She wanted the answer to be no, but when he gave a bare nod, she linked hands with him, let them rest on his knee as she reached up with the other hand, stroked his hair back again. "And you'd let him do it again, because you think once you belong to someone, you've made an unconditional oath. What happens when they conflict, Noah? When Lyda's ownership conflicts with his ownership?"
Noah managed a wry look back toward the open door.
"So you told him no." Gen felt a small spurt of relief.
"I told him I owed Lyda my loyalty until she lets me go. He said he respected that, but he had to punish me for refusing him. That I'm his property."
"So if she let you go, you'd go back to him?"
Noah didn't answer her, just looked at his bare feet. She caught his chin, jerked his face up. A flicker of mutiny went through his gaze, but he held still, let her make him meet her eyes.
"You answer me."
She might not be Lyda or Marguerite, but she'd had years of making hard decisions to regain control of her life, not waiting for it to be handed to her. As a result, she now owned a cherished old beater car, had her carefully tended mortgage and viable dreams of pursuing a full accounting degree, once she paid off the last of the debts her marriages had left her. She'd evolved from being Marguerite's waitress to doing Tea Leaves' books and handling opening and closings. While that might not seem like much to most, it meant something to Gen. She owned her life, and no one would ever take it from her again.
All of that fueled her resolve now, reflected in the hard note in her voice. That flicker in his expression acknowledged it, even though he put his hand up, closed it around her wrist. "I have to, Gen. It's the promise I made."
"To whoever picks you up off the street? Lyda doesn't rate better than a guy who pisses on your sheets to tell you how worthless you are?"
His expression became hunted. "It's not my choice."
"That's total bullshit. You won't make the choice."
"I can't." He pushed himself off the stairs so abruptly it startled her, but not as much as the fevered look in his eyes when he rounded on her. She'd seen Noah's brown eyes reflect deep lake calmness, brief flashes of sexy rebellion, and sometimes a disturbing flow of shadows, here then gone, like clouds passing over the sun. But now those shadows had gathered in full force, threatening a gale.
"I can't," he repeated fiercely. "One person says that makes me a gift, another says I'm damaged and I'm banned from their club." His hands closed into fists. "Someone else tells me I need to be this or that, and none of it is supposed to be about me. I'm everything someone needs me to be, until I'm not, and then I can't stop it or change it. I can't think about it. I just can't."
The stress of whatever he'd just faced with that invisible Dom had taken him over. He was shouting, though not at her. With his expression so raw and open, she saw something else in his gaze. It wasn't shielding. It was like...
Tea Leaves was in a poor neighborhood, and sometimes Marguerite gave tea and food to the homeless in the area. She had a knack for drawing the ones with mental illnesses that put them out of sync with normal society. When Gen helped her hand out the sandwiches, she saw it in their eyes, a kind of impenetrable block between them and full comprehension of the track from which they'd derailed. They ate what was offered, gave thanks and went on their lost way, sometimes muttering to the voices in their head, sometimes with quiet dignity.
She was stunned to the bone to see such a wall in Noah's eyes, too much like that disconnect to deny it. Gen struggled for something to say, unable to reconcile this with what she knew about him. Yet Lyda had hinted at it, Chloe had puzzled over how to explain it... Everyone seemed to hesitate over explaining him.
"Noah, your value has nothing to do with Lyda, or this asshole, or me or...anything else other than you."
Of all the things she could have said, she'd apparently chosen the wrong one.
Shaking his head, he turned away. His body was rigid, still as a statue, but vibrating like a ticking bomb. She'd risen from the steps, had started to reach for him, when he jerked into motion. He strode toward the upside-down boat. She wondered at his intent, but then cried out as he ripped a concrete rabbit out of the landscaping, descended on the boat and put the statue through the hull with one powerful swing.
"No, no, no, no." He snarled, pounding the boat with every syllable. Gen stood frozen, no idea what to do. Self-preservation told her to stay back. Noah in a fury was far more intimidating. Instead of the gentle man she knew, suddenly he was like any other male who could attack and overpower. Cause harm.
Guy had broken her nose with one punch, proven the strength an angry man could unleash. But she hadn't been afraid. She'd run out the back door, into the street, where their neighbors were out walking dogs, mowing. She'd gone to the nearest one, asked to use the phone and called the police. Divorce papers had been filed within the week. She'd felt rage, betrayal, but she'd refused to feel fear.
She felt fear now, but not on her behalf. This was Noah. Dear, beautiful, sexy Noah, at war with inner demons she'd sensed but now saw in full force, whipping around him in a dervish of uncontrolled and escalating emotion. The boat toppled off the sawhorse and he fell onto his knees, continuing to hammer it with the concrete. When the rabbit broke into several pieces, he reached for the torn planks, regardless of the jutting nails.
"Noah--" She started toward him, her personal safety secondary. Another voice cut across hers like the strike of a lash.
"Noah."
Lyda was coming up the walkway, grim determination in her stride. She wore her usual garb of jeans and nursery T-shirt, but as always, it made her no less intimidating, enough that Noah paused, blinking in confusion. But he was too far into his own head. His lip curled back and eyes refired, a precursor to renewing his attack.
"Noah."
Gen had heard husbands teasingly refer to their wives as "She Who Must Be Obeyed". With Lyda, it wasn't a joke at all. That voice could cut through diamond, let alone the demons clinging to Noah's back.
He jerked, head whipping around, body following. Lyda was reaching out to put a hand on his knotted shoulder. When he seized her arm, Gen bit back alarm, but Lyda didn't move. Her glittering silver eyes stayed on his face.
"Stop it. Now."