Chapter 19
The only answer was he’d died and gone to heaven…which surprised him because Noah would’ve suspected he was more of a hell person. How could he not be? He’d trusted a murderer, ruined his parents’ lives, and because of his greed to taste love, he’d introduced evil into Zachary’s life. Those facts alone should have cemented his spot next to Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer, but it didn’t feel like he was in hell. Quite the contrary, actually. The mattress beneath Noah felt plush with a cozy warm temperature, instead of the sweat dampened lumpy piece of shit he’d been sleeping on in his furnace tomb. For the past few days all he could hear were the sounds of his own breathing, crying, and cussing, but now there was soft music playing in the background and since it sounded a lot like the music Zachary listened to, a smile curved his lips. The biggest slice of heaven, however, was Zachary’s heart-melting scent tickling his nose.
If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend he was safely back in his apartment and his lover was either snuggled in bed with him or, at least, nearby.
Keep your eyes closed.
He’d learned fairly early on in his captivity that it didn’t really help to open his eyes. Whether they were opened or closed, he was plunged into total darkness. When the first batch of Dante’s drugs had worn off, he’d awoken to find himself sealed up tightly inside the small space that would eventually become his tomb. The space was bathed in bright lights at that time, and he’d been able to “enjoy” the things Dante left behind for him. Paper and pencil to write a goodbye note to Zachary. Pictures of him and Zachary together—some taken at the gym, some in the restaurant of their apartment building, some from the elevator, and some from inside Noah’s apartment. One only needed to look at those pictures to see how much love Noah and Zachary felt for one another, clearly visible in their smiles, touches, and smoldering looks.
So, he’d had paper and pencil, pictures of him and the man he loved, and spiders. The room was literally crawling with spiders, some large and hairy while others were small and scary. Noah remembered telling Dante how terrified he’d always been of spiders. Ha, the joke was on Dante. His fear of spiders had been pushed so far down on his terror scale that he’d barely given them a second glance. Well, except for the ones he managed to squish and splat. At least he’d taken out a few of them in those first lonely hours of bright light, anger, and remorse.
In a life filled with making one mistake after another, Noah had finally done something right—he’d written his letter to Zachary sometime during those first hours of captivity. Between looking at pictures and squishing spiders, he’d taken the time to tell Zach how much he loved him and tried to assure him he was being brave. The brave part was a definite stretch of the truth, but he suspected Zach would need to hear those words, so he’d written them down.
His plan had been to keep a short log of his ordeal, continuing to assure Zach of his love and bravery. If or when his body was found, he wanted Zach to know. To document his heartfelt thoughts of Zach and their relationship was to be his final gift to his lover, but Dante found a way to take that away from him as well.
Sometime during what he thought was his first day of captivity, although there was no way for him to know for certain without watches or windows, he’d drifted off to sleep. He’d fought it, but the stifling heat in the room and the remainder of Dante’s drugs in his system created a losing battle. When he’d opened his eyes, he was surrounded in complete and smothering darkness. The lights Dante provided had been turned off and it was then Noah realized the pictures of him and Zachary hadn’t been a gift to help comfort Noah as he died. No, Dante provided those as another form of torture. Noah found the pictures in the darkness, touched them with the tips of his fingers, but he hadn’t been able to see Zach’s smiling face…never again. It was the worst form of pain, knowing Zach was right there, within the palm of his hand, but he couldn’t see him.
To say it messed with his head and weakened his resolve to die with dignity was an understatement. He’d cried loud and ugly tears. Ranted and cursed the unfairness of it all. Banged his head against the floor. Whimpered and begged. He’d done everything in his power, but when he’d finally settled down and his tears had dried up, nothing had changed. He was still completely alone in the darkness…except for the spiders.
His spider phobia came back tsunami style. He could feel them crawling on him and hear them scurrying across the floor and up the walls. They bit him, and he scratched the bites until he could feel the blood coating his skin. They weren’t poisonous, just terrifying. Poisonous would’ve been too kind and Dante wanted him to suffer for as long as possible.
He had no idea why Dante hated him so badly. He’d done exactly what the other man had wanted. Sure, he’d been tricked, but the outcome was the same. Dante now ruled the Moretti crime family.
Why not just kill him quickly? Why play with him for all these years? Why allow him to finally find love and then jerk it away from him in the most vicious of ways?
There were hundreds of questions and no answers, but Noah finally realized none of it mattered. It was what it was. There wasn’t one damned thing he could do to change the outcome. His only hope was that Zachary and Connor remained safe.
A spider crawled across his cheek and he swatted it away. The fact he still possessed the strength to even attempt a swat surprised him. His strength had faded fast, leaving him to the point of just lying there, awaiting death to carry him away.
“Easy, babe,” a husky voice whispered in his ear. “It’s just me. Nobody’s ever going to hurt you again.”
Noah’s eyes flew open…or at least they fluttered open because fluttering was at the tip-top of his capabilities at the moment. Light, which he considered bright but probably really wasn’t, blinded him and made his eyelids crash closed again.
Light? How is there light? Shit, I’ve died. It’s heaven. The soft bed and delicious scent of Zachary are real. I’ve actually made it to heaven.
A soft chuckle, so close to his ear the person’s warm breath tickled that sensitive spot on his neck, gave him the incentive to try opening them again. The last thing he needed was to hit heaven wide open having inappropriate thoughts about whichever poor angel was tasked with welcoming him…but he was having inappropriate thoughts.
He peeked again, opening his eyes just a tiny slit so he could get accustomed to the lighting. Of course, a tiny slit was about all he could muster. His entire body, heart, and soul felt like it weighed a ton. It wasn’t the lifeless, weighted-down feeling he’d gotten acquainted with in his tomb, but more of a lazy, contented heaviness. He wondered how long of an adjustment period one was given once they passed through the pearly gates. Was there any chance they would consider letting him lounge around in his bed, passing the days and nights with naughty thoughts of Zachary? He doubted it.
“Hey, babe,” the familiar voice whispered again. “Are you ready to wake up for me? I’m right here waiting. There’s no rush. Take your time and know you’re safe. I’ll be right here, no matter how long it takes.” Lips touched his forehead softly. “Never again, Noah. I swear Moretti will never hurt you again. I love you—that’s another thing you’ll never have to wonder about again. I love you. You’re it for me. Hell, babe, you were it for me the first time I laid eyes on you. I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I was a coward. I was afraid to admit you’d stolen my heart when I wasn’t looking.” The lips touched his cheek. “You’re sneaky—that’s what you are. You turned my pathetically boring world topsy-turvy with those sad eyes and sexy pout.” Soft lips touched against Noah’s. “I love you, Noah. You’ll never doubt it again.”
Noah opened his eyes more fully, squinted against the light, and turned his head in search of Zach’s voice and warmth. It couldn’t be. Zach couldn’t be with him. He was lost…dying in a dark tomb, alone and scared.
Zach is with me.
“Hey, babe. How are you feeling? Don’t move around too much. I’ve got you hooked to all kinds of IVs and monitors. You’re safe and you’re home. I knew you’d feel better if you woke up at home.” Zach moved to sit on the edge of Noah’s bed and his hands were busy touching every inch of Noah’s body. He giggled nervously and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t stop touching you. I was so fucking scared, Noah. I can’t live in a world without you in it. Don’t ever leave me again.”
“How?” Noah croaked out, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed a cactus. Terror gripped his chest and he tried to swivel his head around, just to ensure he really was in a safe place. Wait, it wasn’t his safe place, at least not anymore. Dante had cameras. He’d told him so. He needed to tell Zach, to warn him, but he couldn’t make his tongue cooperate.
“Denala found you. She’d been trying to tell me for days, but I didn’t understand.” Zach’s voice cracked, and he dropped his forehead against Noah’s chest. “You would’ve been dead in another few hours. You were so fucking close, and I kept ignoring the signals she sent to me. I…I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t found you. Losing you would have shattered my soul but then finding out you were only one floor below the entire time? I wouldn’t have survived. None of us would’ve survived that.” A disgusted laugh rolled from his mouth. “But then that was Dante’s plan all along, I’m sure. He wanted to make us all suffer as much as possible.”
“Cameras in my apartment, Zach,” he finally managed to whisper. “He’s watching now, I’m sure.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Zach answered as he gently touched the side of Noah’s face. “The FBI took care of the cameras and listening devices. Nobody’s watching or listening. You’re safe. That man will never touch you again.”
Noah tried to make his brain compute all Zach’s words, but fuzziness made it difficult. He’d been one floor below their apartment? Is that what Zach had said? One fucking floor? He didn’t know whether he wanted to scream in outrage or laugh hysterically. Since he didn’t have the strength to do either, he just lay on the bed and let his eyes soak up Zachary’s beauty. He thought he’d never see his lover’s beautiful face again…not this side of heaven, at least. Dark rings were under Zach’s eyes, giving evidence to how much he’d suffered not knowing where Noah was or if he was safe. He looked like he’d aged ten years, but Noah knew he’d have him whipped back into shape in a matter of days. Not knowing where Noah was, what was happening to him, and most of all, not being able to do anything to help would’ve been the biggest torture of all for someone like Zachary.
Dante left him the pictures and then plunged him into inky darkness as a way to torture him. What he’d done to Zach was even worse. Had he died in that apartment, so close to Zachary all along, it would have been more than his protector and lover could have survived. Dante needed to die—no more hiding and waiting. The bastard had to go. Noah would never risk Zachary’s wellbeing again. If he had to kill the bastard himself, Dante Moretti was leaving this world.
Using what very well may have been the last of his strength, Noah patted the side of the bed and was rewarded by Denala immediately jumping onto the bed and stretching her body next to him. An even bigger surprise was when a slew of puppies followed right behind their mother. Noah giggled…or puffed out a breath that was supposed to be a giggle.
“Oh, shit,” Zachary mumbled as he tried to catch the wiggling puppies and put them back onto the floor. “Denala’s been dying to get on the bed with you, but I wouldn’t let her. I didn’t want you to be disturbed until you were ready. These damned puppies will drive you insane and rip every single tube out of your body for the benefit of their own enjoyment.” He grabbed the last puppy and set it on the floor. “Connor! Come get the puppies.”
That was the last Noah heard regarding the puppy apocalypse. With his right hand buried in Denala’s soft fur, he drifted off to sleep again. This time, feeling safe and so fucking happy he feared his heart might explode.
He was safe. Denala had rescued him. Zachary loved him. Connor might still be pissed with him, but he was at least in the apartment somewhere. As soon as Dante Moretti was dead, all would be perfect in his world.