Page 71 of His Greatest Muse
“I’m serious, Noah.” The words are shaky.
“I wasn’t back here before the fight.”
“Were my parents?”
“I don’t know.” That ice in his voice has gotten more prominent. Scary, even. I hear his boots hit the floor as he moves toward me.
With the bag fully open, I start to pull out each piece of clothing and lay them one by one on the bench. Shirt, shorts, socks, bra. My blood chills when my fingers meet the bottom of the bag, nothing left inside besides a small cosmetic bag full of my shower things.
“Do you know how easy it would be for someone to get inside this room during a fight?” I ask, my head beginning to throb.
Noah wraps a hand around my bicep and gently turns me to face him. His jaw is tight, teeth grinding. I chew on the inside of my cheek as nausea swirls in my stomach.
“Why are you asking me these questions?”
I look down at my bag and then back up at him. I’m embarrassed to say what I’m thinking. Maybe I just forgot what I brought with me today. Maybe I’m just on edge from the fight.
“Tinsley. Tell me.”
It comes out in a rush. “Some stuff is missing from my bag. Two things. Two personal things. I don’t know if someone took them or if I just never even brought them in the first place. Fuck, I don’t know.”
I release a shaky exhale when he cups my cheek and forces me to meet his stare head-on. There’s so much rage in his eyes, but I know that despite our previous conversation, it’s not aimed at me. Still, as it burns into my chest, I welcome it. There has to be something wrong with me because recently, I’ve begun to enjoy when he gets like this—all protective and dangerous—not just accept it like I used to. Now, it makes my heart race and my toes curl in the dirtiest way. It’s probably not normal to find the idea of watching someone rip apart anyone who has ever done you wrong appealing. Yet, I can’t deny the effect Noah has on me in seemingly every possible way.
It's obvious to me now that I would let him do anything, even destroying someone in my honour. Maybe I would even encourage him or join in, depending on the circumstances. God, that’s fucked up.
“What’s missing?” He’s not going to let it go.
Swallowing, I clench the side of the bag in my hand. “My hairbrush.”
A tick of his jaw as his fingers press into my jaw. “And?”
“My underwear.”
28
NOAH
I’m rougherthan I should be as I grab the bag from her and shove my hand inside. I need to see for myself that she didn’t just miss something. A simmering blast of rage makes my fingers tremble when they brush the bottom of the empty bag, finding what she did.Nothing.
“I always bring extra underwear with me. I didn’t forget them,” she mutters lowly, as if trying to convince herself.
I already believe her. Did the minute she grew quiet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to finish our conversation but that she could no longer focus on it. She was too afraid.
Without replying, I tear out of the room. The pathetic excuses for security guards standing outside the door gape at me as I whirl on them. Their eyes go wide as I shove one of them against the wall and hold him there with an arm to his throat, pressing and pressing until finally, fear fills his expression. He’s bigger than me, yet as I snarl in his face, he flinches like I’m double his size. Like I terrify him. I should.
“Who did you let into this room?”
The other guy slips behind me but makes no move to pull me off this one. I feel feral, and I most likely look the same.
The throat beneath my arm tries to bulge with a swallow, so I press harder, making it impossible. “Nobody,” he gasps.
I dig my heel into his toes and lean my body weight into it. His face twists in pain. “Try again.”
“We were here all day. Nobody got in besides Hunter and the fighter,” the guy at my back says in a pathetic attempt to save his partner a set of broken toes and a shattered larynx.
My top lip curls as I spit, “The fighterhas a name. I suggest you use it.”
“Noah.” Tinsley’s voice is an electric shot to my chest. “If they didn’t see anybody go in, then they didn’t see anybody go in. The media is still lingering. Don’t give them a story.”