Page 26 of Who's Saving You
Fuck, that hurt. I flex my hand, shaking it out.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the woman is still pressed against the building, like she’s trying to blend in, afraid I could be her third problem tonight. “Go,” I growl. “Get out of here.”
Knowing never to take your focus off the target, I keep my eyes on these two guys as she hesitates, and something about her sets me on edge. I look at her, that green dress coat and black heels coming into focus.
“Go!” I bark again, and she moves slowly away from us. One of the guys groans and tries to stand, but I kick his legs out from under him, leaning down close.
“Do you know who I am?” He stares at me, panicked. “What are you doing here?”
“W-w-we were told to find her.”
I furrow my brows and drag him closer. “Why?”
“She’s getting too personal.”
I shake my head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She’s digging for info that isn’t hers to tell.”
My heart races at his admission. I grab his collar, slam him once into the pavement just to drive it home. “I handlethis area. Not you. Tell whoever’s stupid enough to test me, it's not going to work.”
I stand, breathing steady, and look around for her. The click-clack of her heels echoes off the building. And then I realize.
Noelle.
I jog to her, not wanting to scare her more, but not wanting to call her name out loud either. “Wait. Stop.” She looks back and tries running quicker, but those heels aren’t working for her. “It's Saint.”
She stumbles and slows, turning back now. I glance around to make sure we’re alone and lower my hood. “Noelle, it’s me.” I catch up to her, grabbing her arm and pushing her toward my truck. “Get in.”
I yank it open for her, and she scrambles in, slamming it shut behind her like she’s afraid they might still reach in and grab her. I throw my hood back up, circle around fast, sliding back into the driver’s seat and throw the truck into gear. She’s breathing hard, and her hands are shaking in her lap, coat clutched tight like it’s the only thing holding her together.
“Jesus. What the hell were you doing out there, Moreno?”
She turns toward me, eyes wide and still full of adrenaline. “Me? What about you?”
I grip the wheel and stare straight ahead. “What did they say to you?”
Her voice trembles, and she stares straight ahead, but she’s rigid and trying to be tough. “I didn’t even see them coming.” She swallows audibly. “They told me to stop asking too many questions.”
“Questions about what?”
“Reporters are threatened all the time, Nik.”She shakes her head, and it makes me angry that she’s dismissing this. As if it’s okay for someone to attack her for writing something they don’t like.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
There's silence, and I wait as we pull up to a red light. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m just going to drive around until she talks to me. After a moment of us staring at the red light, she turns to me and says, “They told me to drop your story.”
Anger builds in my gut, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, trying to keep from turning this truck around and killing those two.
“What do they know, Nik?” She just about whispers it out. I barely hear it as the light turns green, and I step on the gas, trying to create distance so I don’t go back and beat the shit out of them.
I’m still silent when her laugh comes out dry and bitter. “They knew you.”
My knuckles go white while I grip the steering wheel. “Everyone knows me.”
“No, not for your game. For something else. I heard you, the way you asked the question…” Her words hang heavy in the cab. I feel her eyes on me, waiting.
I exhale through my nose, slowly. “They know me because I used to be the guy who sent them to stop the questions.”
