Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 36
A soft knockon my bedroom door pulls me from the half awake, half asleep state I’ve been in for the last twenty minutes while listening to the steady rhythm of Savvy breathing.
Tucking my chin into my chest, I double-check that the sound didn’t disturb her. Once I confirm she is still, in fact, blissfully asleep, I ease myself out from under her octopus-like hold and replace my body with my pillow for her to cuddle with instead.
Even closed in sleep, her eyes remain puffy and red from all the crying she did last night. Fuck! She cried. My girl broke down in a major way, and the only person she wanted was me.
I pull on a pair of gray sweatpants and am tugging a BA Hockey tee over my head when I open the door and slip out of the room before easing it closed behind me with a soft click.
I glance up and catch Duke’s clenched jaw a second before my gaze tracks past him to Mitchell St. James standing in the middle of our common room. Well shit. Talk about a wake-up call.
Running a hand through my hair, I curse to myself. I had hoped I’d get the chance to talk to Savvy alone, to check in and see where her head is at before we needed to deal with anybody else. Guess that’s not going to happen.
“How is she?” is the first thing out of Mitchell’s mouth when we make eye contact. Again, my respect for him grows because Savvy and her well-being are his first and automatic concern.
I don’t answer right away, pausing to take a beat and consider how best to answer his question. “Health-wise?” He nods. “She’s fine.” I pause again, yet Mitchell doesn’t rush me. “Other than that, though…I don’t know.” I glance back at my closed bedroom door like I can see through it to the girl I left sleeping behind it.
“I didn’t want her finding out this way.” He slides his hands into his pockets, and it’s then I notice how casually he’s dressed in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a white polo.
I’m not sure if there would have been any way for Savvy to learn the truth about her paternity that wouldn’t have set her off, and I tell him as much. The downturned corners of his eyes give away just how painful a realization that is for him, and there’s a part of me that feels it’s wrong that I’m the person he’s having this conversation with.
Savvy already feels betrayed. The last thing she needs is to think—however mistakenly—that I’m also in cahoots against her.
I grip the back of my neck, forcing myself to take a breath, pause for a beat, and allow any anger I feel on behalf of my girl to level out. My temper has been known to get me in trouble—look at how I reacted the night Savvy was hospitalized if you need an example or two. Now, here with Mitchell, is not the time to let it win.
“To be honest…” I wasn’t necessarily waiting for permission to speak, but I let Mitchell give a small nod regardless. “Your biggest challenge isn’t going to be that you’re her father or that you knew and didn’t tell her.” I move until I’m standing in front of him, my arms folded across my chest. “It’s that you told Carter…months ago.”
He runs a hand down his face, letting out a heavy sigh. Thanks to Mitchell’s close relationship with Governor Delacourte, I’ve had many chances to be around him since Duke and I became friends. The man standing in front of me now? He’s not the same as the one I knew before he became my girlfriend’s stepdad—bio dad, or whatever you want to call him. No, this version looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders if the way they slope is any indication.
“That’s not exactly how that played out,” he admits.
Again…this feels like a betrayal. This conversation is quickly treading into dangerous territory for me. I chance a glance at Duke hovering at the counter that houses our Nespresso machine and indicate for him to make me a cup of coffee too. I’m going to need a hit of caffeine if I’m going to have any hope of surviving this day.
A bone-deep exhaustion is the only thing to which I can attribute me not sensing her before a raspy voice asks, “Then how did it play out?”
Three sets of eyes snap to where a sleepy, rumpled, hair tumbling in a mess around her shoulders Savvy stands leaning against the doorjamb to my bedroom. The swelling around her eyes seems worse now that they’re open and watching us with an air of suspicion swimming in those purple irises.
My heart clenches at how she’s pulled on one of my other hockey tees instead of her shirt. I tell myself now is not the time to notice how sexy that small sliver of skin visible between where she’s knotted it and where her oversized joggers hang loose on her hips is.
Mitchell moves to take a step toward Savvy, and I counter it with one of my own. He needs to keep his distance until she gives him the all-clear.
There’s no missing the assessment in how Mitchell pauses to take me in, his eyes doing a full pass up and down my body. A knowing gleam slides behind his gaze, and if Governor Delacourte withheld the reasoning behind his son’s request to nullify the betrothal, it’s becoming more apparent the longer we stand here—especially when I hold out my hand to Savvy and she takes it, slipping into my hold automatically.
Beneath my arm, Savvy’s body is rigid, her muscles tense and coiled tight despite allowing herself to lean on me.
“I take it this”—Mitchell glances from us to Duke, who’s now leaning against the counter across the room—“is why you asked your dad to call off the engagement?”
Duke nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “She was never mine to have.”
“Fuck that,” Savvy counters. There she is. My girl may have been knocked down, but she’s a fighter and is finally starting to rally. “It’s the twenty-first century—I will not be bartered like some object. I am my own damn person, and the only person who will decide who I marry. Is. Me.”
“You’re forgetting one little detail, bugaboo.” Savvy’s gaze snaps to Duke. When he fails to smother a chuckle, her eyes narrow in that way that always makes my dick stand at attention. “J-Man would have to ask you first before you could decide.”
“Do you really wanna argue with me about semantics right now?” That glare turns my way when I smirk at her frustrated growl. “DON’T. You. Start with me, Noble.”
She pokes me in the nose, and I wrap my hand around her wrist and bring her hand down to nip at the tip of her finger. “Don’t you start with that Noble shit again.”
There’s a challenge brewing behind her eyes. I can’t wait until we’re alone so I can put it to the test. For now, I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head.
“Savvy.” Mitchell’s voice is soft. He goes to reach for her but lets his hand fall before it can connect.
Fingers slip under the hem of my T-shirt, brushing along the bare skin of my lower back as Savvy adjusts her hold on me when she squares off against her…Mitchell.
“How long?” Mitchell’s brows scrunch together. “How long have…have you known…you’re…my…” This time, when Savvy’s voice breaks, she doesn’t continue.
“Father?”
“Yeah.” Fuck me, there’s that broken tone that gutted me last night.
“I found out about you this summer when I reconnected with your mother.” The sound Savvy makes in the back of her throat is filled with so much derision I’m surprised we’re not all choking on it. “I need you to know, Savvy, when I knew your mother back then, I didn’t know she was married.” This time when he reaches for her, he doesn’t stop until he has her hand cupped between his. “It’s important to me that you know that.”
Savvy’s mouth presses into a flat line. The stubborn hunch to her shoulders makes me think she doesn’t want to believe him, but despite his terrible taste in spouses, he’s a lot more genuine than most men in his position.
“Why did you marry Natalie?” She pulls her hand free.
I gotta admit, I’ve wondered this myself.
“Why do you call her Natalie?”
Savvy’s nostrils flare, and she runs her tongue across the front of her teeth. She’s told me how hard it’s been to keep quiet about the true nature of her relationship—or lack thereof—with Natalie. Part of the reason for it was the threats Natalie has been holding over her head, threats we failed to put an end to last night because we turned up nothing on the evidence front. Though, based on seeing how these two interact with each other, I suspect she’s also avoided divulging the information out of respect for the genuine feelings Mitchell seems to have for Natalie.
“Because…” She starts then stops. Another beat passes, and her chest rises and falls with one deep inhalation and exhalation. “Despite how hard she’s pretended in front of you, she’s never been much of a mother to me.”
Savvy steps out from under my arm, and it’s like she’s waiting for Mitchell to challenge her. He doesn’t.
“I’ll admit she had to be…decent at some point, or I doubt my…dad”—she chokes on a sob then clears her throat—“would ever have married her or had two—” She goes stock-still as she realizes the inaccuracy of the statement. “Shit.”
Shifting forward, I let my front press to her back, reminding her I’m here and I have her back while I angle my chin to keep watch from over her shoulder.
She squeezes her eyes shut, turning and giving me some of her weight. When they reopen, a sheen of moisture coats her lower lash line, and the floodgates open.
She purges detail after detail about how her life was with Natalie, though most of it occurred after her dad’s (Jeremy King) death. She had told me some of it, like how she came to live with Carter and how he took care of her before that, but even I didn’t know the full extent of it.
The longer she speaks, the paler Mitchell becomes. To be honest, by the time she gets to the part about Natalie’s continued threats about having Carter thrown in jail, I think he might actually be looking a little green.
The worst part wasn’t listening to the atrocities her mother is guilty of. No. Instead, it was how every time Savvy said her brother’s name, her voice would hitch at the end, that small broken edge bringing tiny pinpricks of pain with it.
“So…” Savvy holds her arms out at her sides when she finally finishes. “I showed you mine. Now it’s your turn.”