The Note Natalie Wrye (interesting books to read TXT) 📖

get spots out of clothing; I’ll have to ask about blood. But we’re not going to do this anymore… Leave this tension.” He inhales loudly, letting go of the same breath. “We’ve been leaving it for too long, and I’m done, Noah. I’m done.” His eyes gloss over, a renewed sheen shining in their chocolate-covered depths. His jaw ticks. “I want my fucking brother back. And I don’t care how.”

I want to tell him that he’s always had him. But that would be a lie.

What my brother had from me for the last seven years was nothing but a shell, a husk of a man—a Stepford person, whose entire focus lie on some misguided idea of excellence.

My past was catching up with me, but I was no longer trying to hide it. I was letting it strengthen me, empower me—make me more of the man I was trying to be.

I take a step closer to Jase, sliding one hand into the pocket of my slacks. I sigh. “So, do what you have to do.”

“I will.”

Another step. “Put your hands on me, if you have to.”

“You think I won’t?”

Another step. This one draws me to toe-to-toe with Jase and I face him, fists and all. Our jaws are unmoving, nerves made of steel. The same Quinn DNA keeps either of us from looking away and at the same time, at the exact same moment, both of us go for it, reaching out for one another…gripping each other close in a hug.

It’s a touch I didn’t know I needed. Not until now.

Jase has heard everything I told Ainsley. He knows everything.

And the secrets disappear between us as if disintegrated into thin air.

I wrap my eldest brother close, holding tight.

Cyn was right…

I was jealous of him.

Jealous that he found the love I’d secretly craved for. Jealous that he’d found the woman to complement him, complete him.

But things were different now. Because I’d found that woman for me.

There’s so much left to say to Jase, but I back out of our hard embrace, a knot twisting in my stomach as I realize that I still haven’t found Sophia.

Where is she?

Jase steps back, seeing the fear in my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Lachlan comment from the corner of the room, now watching us. “What’s wrong is that I wasn’t a part of this hug. Why didn’t you tossers call me?”

We laugh, reaching out for baby bro, but like the youngest, he backs up, stepping away just out of reach. “Whoa, wait. I didn’t come here for affection just yet. I’m getting plenty of that from the bridesmaids downstairs.” He grins. “But I did come because it looks like we’ve got an escapee.” He looks at me. “Hazel eyes. Dark and ombre hair… Someone saw a woman who looks like that getting into a cab and leaving.”

The information makes my heart thump.

Because it’s not just any woman getting into a cab.

It’s the woman who should still be in this bed, in this room.

My woman.

And I was going to get her back, no matter what it took.

Chapter 26

SOPHIA

The rain is torrential by the time my cab makes it back to New York. Traffic is overwhelming, the streets swarmed for an early Sunday afternoon, and soon anticipation gets the best of me, not to mention the meter.

The damned thing is running like a racehorse, over eighty dollars now, and instead of running it up all the way home, I hand over my credit card to the driver, hoping it’s not maxed, hopping out into the rain.

Horns honk in the congested street. Yellow taxis clog the avenues. The sound of jackhammers still plows away in the distance. And all of it—all of the noise, the discord, the turmoil of the City? It all mimics the inside of my mind, and I’m once again faced with the reality that I could leave.

Run from New York. Run from the city.

Run to a quieter place, one with more peace. Away from the sirens and the smell of wet concrete.

God, sometimes running away feels like the only option. Especially on a day like today.

And still I stay.

Heading up the block, hunched against the winter rain, my long coat wrapped around my shoulders, bag held tight, I lose myself in the pandemonium that is Manhattan.

Because New York is in my blood.

It’s a city that’s toughened me in unimaginable ways, pieced together the beautiful mess that I am.

If there’s only one place that I feel comfortable, that feels like home, it’s here.

And as I settle in against the set of double doors I’d been searching for on the street, I realize that this damn city is my security, my safety.

New York is my home.

I’d lied, begged and borrowed all to live here.

I’d searched for safety all my life, a real home. But there was no home like the one I’d been born in…or the one I found for a few beautiful moments in Noah Quinn’s muscular arms.

I try to shake off the feeling of being with Noah, however, even as I shake off the rain.

Under the awning of The Alchemist’s front door, I sigh, finally having reached the restaurant-pub when I remember, reaching for the door, that it’s Sunday…of all days.

A day where the doors don’t open until mid-afternoon. And I stand there, dumbfounded, soaking wet, ready to dive back onto the wet street when the double doors open behind me, and Rick, prick that he is, pops his head out, his blond hair shiny and pale as he looks at me.

“What the hell?” He glances up at the sky and down at me. “Somerset, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Currently? Wondering how to swim home.” I sniff back rainwater. “You?”

“Running the books a bit. We don’t officially open up for another two hours.”

I stare back, my voice deadpan. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed, Rick. I’ll see ya.”

But the overly primped manager reaches for me, his fingers locking around my wrist. He’s never touched me like this before. He’s