Page 133 of Finding Noah

“Wh-where?” I asked, rattled once again by his presence, and I realized I'd somehow grown to trust him in the days since we'd first met. Now, knowing he did possess the ability to speak, I realized I still knew nothing.

“You came snooping around, Officer Noah Mason,” he ground out from between a clenched jaw I couldn’t see. “Why?”

Officer.

That's right. I'm a cop.

How odd it was that I'd somehow forgotten.

“S-snooping around? I-I … I don't—”

“Do not play dumb with me,” he interrupted. “And stop stalling. We never know how much time we have. Answer me quickly and efficiently.”

“Um … I wanted to find him,” I said, then swallowed. “Benjamin.”

“Benjamin,” he repeated in a low growl, like the name tasted bitter on his tongue. “Why?”

“Be-because my father killed his. Twen-twenty years ago. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to …” I blinked away tears as I shook my head at the absurdity of it all now. “I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to … I wanted to see … God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Speak,” he commanded.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I-I-I just wanted to see if he was okay.”

This seemed to give the man in black pause as he lifted his head. “You wanted to apologize,” he said slowly, as if to allow the admission to sink in. “You didn't come here on official business. Is that correct?”

“That’s correct,” I admitted in a whisper.

“The police had no interest in him.”

I opened my eyes to look at him and shook my head. “No.”

He hummed a deep, contemplative sound, then said, “Then you are going to help me, Officer Noah Mason, and you are not going to die.”

Gasping with a sob, I cried, “God, why? I can't do this anymore! I can't! Do you understand that? I can't do it!”

With gloved hands, he grasped my cheeks and held me, bringing the long, hooked beak of his nose to mine and forcing my eyes to stare into the infinite abyss of his.

“Because you are an innocent. You don’t belong here,” he said in a harsh whisper. “I cannot help you if you're dead.”

Realization settled like a redwood coming down in a strong wind. “You want to get me out of here?”

“Very good, Detective,” he replied with the same sarcasm I'd greeted him with.

Detective.

Oh God, Meg.

“Why can't you just let me go then?”

He released my face from his grasp to sit back, regaining his composure. “It's more complicated than that, and you'd be smart to not ask any more questions. Your job, Noah, is to stay alive. That's all.”

I blinked, helpless and all too aware of how weak I was. “How?”

“You do have a beautiful fiancée. Pregnant, isn’t she?”

A terror I'd never known before jostled something in my soul as the chains above my head and around my ankles rattled, an involuntary need to fight and protect the greatest loves of my life.

“Stay the hell away from her!” I screamed, wrenching and writhing. Fighting for the first time in days. “I swear to God, you creepy fucking bastard, if you touch her, I will kill you.”