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Rory’s expression was suitably shocked. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” He pushed his father back. “If I’d found anything I’d taken Delbert apart myself. Damn you, is this how you’re going to destroy Sabella? Start this trashy little story so someone slips in and slices her fucking throat?”
Enough was enough.
“Rory.” Noah turned, snapped out his brother’s name.
Both men turned to him. Grant’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenched, as Noah walked toward them slowly.
“You should be on the pumps.” Noah nodded outside. “Toby can’t handle those alone.”
Rory wiped his hand over his face in irritation. “Hell. Just what the hell I need. You poking your nose in this.”
“What?” Grant looked over at Noah, his gaze hooded, brooding. “He’s just sleeping with her. What the hell does he care if she dies?” A second later, he was choking.
Noah ignored the nails digging at his wrists as he snapped his fingers around Grant’s throat and put him against the cooler, holding him in place with the sheer force of the rage transferring to his hand.
“One of these days, someone’s gonna cut that hand off,” Rory muttered before stalking off angrily.
Noah stared into his father’s eyes. Flecks of green glittered in the Irish blue that stood out against suddenly pale cheeks.
“You want to leave,” Noah told him carefully. “You want to leave, and you don’t want to come back here.”
Grant stared back at him, there was no fear in his eyes, but there was a hint of knowledge that Noah didn’t want to see.
“That’s enough.” It was Sabella’s voice that drew his attention.
He turned his head slowly, staring back at her.
“Let him go,” she ordered between pale lips. “Now.”
“Sabella, go finish that car,” Noah suggested easily. “Mr. Malone and I are just having a friendly little conversation.”
Sabella looked outside the store. “You’re about to have an audience. Let him go. Now.”
Noah released him, slowly, watching as Grant stared back at him in something akin to horror. He lifted his hand, rubbed at his neck. He started to speak, then clamped his lips closed.
“That’s right,” Noah said softly. “You don’t want to say anything else. You want to walk right out of here. You want to drive away. Because we don’t want your business here. You got me?”
Grant blinked back at him.
“You didn’t answer me.” Noah smiled slowly. “Do we want to discuss this later? Maybe around midnight.” His voice went lower. “When you’re in your bed, tucked in nice and tight. I could be there. I could slip right inside your nightmares, and we could chat about it then.”
“You don’t have it in you,” Grant said softly. “Do you?”
Noah grinned. “Watch for me. If you have the nerve.”
“Let him go, Noah. Now.” Sabella’s voice was inflexible. That tone that warned she could get mad without much more provocation.
He let him go, watching as Grant slipped past him, and unhurriedly left the building.
He turned and stared at Sabella. Glared at her.
“Don’t interfere again,” he warned her.
He turned and strode past her, moving back to the garage as rage pumped fast and furious inside him.
His father. That son of a bitch was his father, and he could barely keep from hating him, wanting to kill him as he heard him encouraging Rory to desert Sabella. To take away the last link to family that she could have. It didn’t matter that he knew Rory would never do it. What pissed him off was that Grant was still pushing for it. And he didn’t know why. He couldn’t figure out why. He jerked the cap of the water off, tilted it up, and tried to drink enough to still the rage burning in him. It didn’t work, and before he could control the impulse the half bottle of liquid was slamming into the wall of the garage. A torpedo that smacked and burst against the cement wall before falling to the floor.
Nik lifted his head from the truck he was working on, stared at the bottle, then Noah, before his gaze moved to the office doorway.
