Page 55 of Noah
He made a quick detour without answering, and headed down another hallway with more rooms. Stopping at one of the doors, he pulled out a key and unlocked it, then tugged me inside.
And now I started to panic.
I yanked my arm, trying to get him to let go, and seriously thought about kicking him. “Noah, you’re scaring me! What’s going on?”
“I need Whiskey,” he said by way of answer.
That short circuited my brain for a whole thirty seconds, because it wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting. It was noanswer, actually, and what sort of whiskey did he mean? The drink? Or the dog?
He looked at me, saw that I was struck dumb, and finally let go so he could race into the bedroom. Seconds later he was back, the puppy in his arms. So, I guessed that answered that question. He grabbed me again, this time managing to just take my hand, and pulled me back out into the hallway, and then to the elevators.
I had, by this time, figured out that I wasn’t going to get away from him and that he probably didn’t mean any harm. Maybe he has some crazy new thing he wanted to talk about or show me. I knew he’d planned some sort of going away breakfast, so it could be that he was taking me down to that.
I didn’t think he had murder or kidnapping on the brain, at least.
He wouldn’t want Whiskey to see something like that. Right?
It wasn’t murder or kidnapping.
It was worse.
We got into the hotel restaurant to find basically everyone on the tour shoved in there. Plus, the press and all the photographers. Plus, Taylor. She was standing on some sort of stage with a microphone and a man I didn’t recognize.
What was this? Were they doing some sort of signing or something? A new record deal? Why the fuck would Noah have dragged me down here for this? So, I could watch and appreciate how big and important he was as he signed a new contract? I didn’t want to watch. I wanted to get to the airport and start my journey back to LA. I had burning bridges I needed to throw water on.
Instead, I was being shoved up onto the stage next to Taylor, which only increased my confusion.
Noah didn’t put me in front of the microphone, though. He went up to it himself and tapped it once to make sure it was on.
“Can everyone hear me?” he asked tentatively. “Sorry, I don’t usually get the microphone, so I’m not sure how to use this thing. Rivers is always hogging that part of the stage.”
He shot a quick grin into the audience, and I looked to see Rivers flipping him off, but smiling back.
“You can’t sing, you stupid fuck!” he shouted. “Why would we give you a mic?”
The audience laughed at this, and I let myself smile a bit. I would never get tired of watching Noah and Rivers banter with each other. They’d been doing it since I was a kid, and it felt like part of my soul at this point. Also, Rivers was right; Noah could play the drums like a demon, but he’d never been able to sing. Rivers had the voice of a dark angel, and Matt and Hudson were phenomenal at backing them up, but Noah had never been able to do it.
He’d also never admitted that.
“Right, well that’s up for interpretation,” he said predictably. “Maybe if you gave me the mic every so often, we’d find out that I actually have a better voice than you. And anyhow, that’s not the point. I’m not here to prove I can sing. I’m here for something a whole lot more important.”
The audience’s laughter died until I could only hear the sound of the camera lenses taking pictures, and I watched Noah, wondering what the hell he was up to. He turned to me, now, and started talking so quickly I could barely keep up.
“The thing is, I’ve been making some really big mistakes. Like, bigger than I’ve ever made before. This is my best friend, Molly Rush. She’s also one of our roadies, or at least she was, and now she’s a photographer with Tempest. She’s one of themost amazing and talented people I know, and she deserves the best things in life. But then I went and kissed her, and someone–” He shot a furious look around the audience. “–Decided to take pictures of that kiss and send them to everyone. Which got Molly and I both in trouble.”
The audience shuffled uncomfortably at that, and I watched them, still wondering who’d done it. And why.
“And now, I want you all to know the truth,” Noah continued. “Because I did kiss her in that bar, but only because I was drunk. And the reason we were together was that we were working on something big. I don’t know how many of you know this, but the Authors are made up of orphans. We all grew up in the same orphanage in St. Louis, and that includes Molly. We’ve all spent our lives wondering where our parents were and why they gave us up. We’ve all had the dream of finding a family at some point. For most of us, that didn’t happen, but a couple weeks ago, someone important came looking for Molly. And she came to me for advice. That was what you saw. Her asking for advice, and me being too drunk to realize how important it was. I didn’t realize it until afterward.”
He turned to me, his eyes dark and serious. “And the minute I realized it, I knew I had to do something about it. This is the girl who held my hand when I was scared, through our entire childhood. She taught me right from wrong when we were young and then watched out for me when we got older. It’s time she had someone watching out for you. Molly, I found the guy who contacted the orphanage. I had the DNA test run. And this... This is your dad, Molls. He’s the real guy.”
What?
My eyes flew from Noah to the man standing behind him. He was tall, with thinning brown hair and a kind, gentle face. Eyes that I recognized, because I saw them every time I looked in the mirror.
My dad?
I froze, unable to process that... and then realized that I could process one thing, and that was anger. What the fuck? Who approved this? Certainly not me! I’d said I didn’t want to meet this guy, and Noah had gone out and brought him here anyhow! What did he think, he could do something heroic for once and I’d immediately forgive all the bullshit he threw my way?
