She jumped up again, clawing her way toward me, only to be forced back down.
Shoving his gun into the back of his pants, he planted a foot on either side of her and bent at the hip as he barked, “Enough!” And then he backhanded her so hard that I had to fight back a dry heave.
“Clare, don’t!” I cried while praying that she would listen to him.
She didn’t.
She spit in his face and shouted, “You bastard! She has nothing to do with this.”
He stabbed a finger into her face. “I warned them, Clare. They kept you from me. You take a man’s wife—my wife—you will lose your own. It’s time Leblanc learns that lesson. And, if you don’t shut up and remember who the fuck your husband is, you’re going to learn a lesson, too.”
Another round of vomit threatened to escape my throat as twin streams dripped off my chin. Yet, somehow, in the face of evil, Clare appeared to collect herself. Her hunched shoulders rolled back, and the color returned to her cheeks. I’d known that Clare had to have been strong to have lived with Noir for so long, but until that moment, I hadn’t realized how strong she truly was.
I watched in awe as an eerie calm washed over her.
“Clare?” I whispered.
“You still want to be my husband?” she asked him weakly.
Walt seemed oblivious to her sudden change. His face remained hard as he growled, “You’re a Noir. No fucking pig is going to change that.”
She blinked her doe eyes at him and slowly pushed up onto her knees. “I’m still a Noir?”
He gently reached down and threaded his fingers through the top of her hair. “How can you even ask that? What the fuck did they do to you?”
Her chin jerked to the side as if something had struck her.
And I supposed it had, because not even a second later, she fell apart.
A strangled cry bubbled in her throat, and she scooted on her knees to hug his hips. “Oh God, Walt. I was so scared without you. I thought you hated me. That…that’s what they told me. They said you didn’t love me. And that you were planning to kill me. Heath and the police made me stay away.” Her voice caught as tears rolled down her face. “I thought… I just… They kept telling me that they would take care of me. But they didn’t. All I wanted was to come home.” She rose to her feet and gripped the front of the beast’s chest. “They’re awful people, Walt!” she cried.
His malevolent gaze softened as he brushed the blood-streaked hair away from her face.
She dropped her forehead to his chest as her entire body trembled against him.
I had never in my life been more confused—or impressed. I glanced around the room, hoping for an answer, but Marco was the only one there. He was wearing a similar perplexity as he narrowed his gaze on Clare.
“Noir, you’re not buying this shit, are you?” Marco said.
Oh, but he was. Hook, line, and sinker.
The taut muscles under his white button-down visibly relaxed as he folded her into his arms. “I would never kill you, sweetheart,” he murmured as if it were a romantic sentiment. “Don’t worry. They’ll pay for what they did.”
She sniffled and used the back of her arm to dry her eyes. “We need to get Tessa.”
Oh hell no.
“Clare,” I hissed.
“We could trade Elisabeth for her,” she continued. “If you kill Heath, Roman will trade Tessa for Elisabeth. We’ll have our family back.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth as my pulse skyrocketed. No way was Tessa getting near this. And even suggesting something like that left me questioning everything I knew about Clare.
“What are you doing?” I interjected into their conversation.
Walter’s hand snapped in my direction to silence me, but he kept his gaze leveled on his wife. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Noir, seriously?” Marco called. “This bitch is playing you. She’s been shacked up with Light for weeks.”
She held Walter’s gaze, sliding her hands up and down his chest as she jerked her head to Marco. “I don’t like him. He scares me.”
An arrogant grin tipped one side of Noir’s mouth as he nodded almost imperceptibly.
As she cuddled into his chest, her gaze landed on mine. But she wasn’t there. At least, not the woman I knew.
She didn’t even blink as Walter suddenly retrieved the gun from the back of his pants.
“What the…” was all Marco got out before Noir pulled the trigger.
Marco’s cruiser had pinged at one of Noir’s known properties, less than ten miles away. Tomlinson and a team of agents were already on the way over. Rorke had once again been banished from the investigation, but this time, for obvious reasons, he didn’t voice any complaints.
The windows had nearly fogged from the molten anger rolling off Roman as we sped through town.
“How the fuck are you so calm?” he asked.
I kept my eyes on the road as I stated definitively, “Because I’m going to get her back.”