Noah gave her a quick, assessing glance. His face was pale, cheek scraped and bruised, shadowy eyes still reddened from the pepper spray. A red stain soaked his gray, torn-open sweatshirt sleeve.
“Noah! What happened to your arm?”
He glanced at it. “I got stabbed.”
A modified man was still just a man, she thought. Pretending he wasn’t hurt to look tough. “What if you need stitches?”
Noah shook his head. “It won’t. It’s clotting. Rapid cell repair is built in. And I’m pretty much immune to most pathogens and toxins. Even radiation is no biggie.”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to watch you put that to the test.”
“I fucking hope not.” He started the car and maneuvered out over the bumpy terrain until he got onto the narrow road, handling the wheel stiffly and wincing as he shifted lightly in his seat. “Guns and knives are about all I can handle right now.”
She looked closely at the dark, wet stain, making sure it wasn’t spreading. “How did you find me?”
He stared straight out at the dirt road that wound through the trees. “Later for that.”
She reached across the console and laid her hand on his thigh. The denim was damp with sweat and stiff with blood, but her fingers gripped the steely bulge of his thigh muscles. “Noah,” she said. “We have to talk to each other. No more secrets.”
His mouth tightened. “You’ll be angry.”
She sighed. “Please. At this moment, you can do no wrong. Just tell me.”
“OK. If you insist. I geotagged you,” he admitted. “With the tile that fell off the painting you liked. I stuck it in your coat pocket in your apartment. After we made love.”
She stared at him, astonished.
“Look in your pockets.”
She did. Both of them. Finding a bus ticket, a laundromat token, a button that had been missing in action, a couple receipts, a pack of spearmint gum . . . and something small, square and hard. She held it up.
“So?” His voice was defensive. “Yes, I’m controlling. And obsessive. I can’t help it, so what the fuck? I knew you were in danger. I know what Mark is. What he could do to you. If you want to have a fight about this, go ahead.”
He looked like he was bracing himself.
Caro reached out, and stroked the side of his face with her fingertips. “No,” she said. “I don’t. I can’t believe what you just did for me. After I attacked you. And hurt your eyes. And stole your fucking car.”
“Oh, yeah. The car,” Noah muttered.
“It might still be there. I parked it in a tow zone on purpose.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I’m on the edge as it is.”
She traced the shape of his cheekbone, feeling the velvety heat of his skin and his harsh beard scruff. His mouth was set in a tense line.
“Noah,” she said. “I have something to say to you—”
He exhaled sharply. “Here we go. Here it comes.”
“No, don’t get nervous,” she soothed. “This is a compliment. You are a world class bullshit artist. If lying were an Olympic event you would win the gold.”
A wary grin flashed across his face. “Comes from growing up on the streets,” he said. “Thank you. I feel proud. Even though I should be ashamed.”
“Lying to that guy got us out alive. That’s what I’m talking about.”
He shrugged. “I was just blowing smoke.”
“Yes. At gunpoint. Tied up, no less.”
Noah looked at her sideways. “OK, so I’m really good at it. But what’s your point? Are you worried that I’ll lie to you?”
“You already have. I’m just thinking out loud.”
Noah groaned under his breath. “Go ahead. Beat me up.”
“No. Just saying that you’re a different person when you lie. You project a different frequency.”
He frowned. “Sounds like I’m ready for the psych ward.”
“Not at all. And trust me, I’d know.”
“You would, huh?”
“Yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t recognize the man talking to me.”
Noah braked suddenly, turning onto a narrow, half-hidden road overgrown by stubby evergreens that scraped against the sides of the car. Noah killed the engine.
They sat in silence. Noah looked away from her. It looked as if he were struggling to breathe.
Was that why he stopped? Caro undid her seatbelt and leaned towards him, trying gently to turn his face back toward her. He resisted, so she just kissed his cheekbone, his hair. Tasted salt, grit. Blood.
“Don’t do that,” he said harshly.
“It won’t kill you, Noah.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He turned toward her, spread open her coat and pressed his face against her naked breasts. His breath was a hot caress against her bare skin. “Maybe not yet.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her nose in his sweat-stiffened hair.
“I want you,” he said.
They kissed, madly, passionately. No more talk. Just gasps, sighs.