The Truth About Lennon
“And tell him about the drugs, Leni.”
“You son of a bitch! You know damn well those weren’t my drugs.” I take a step toward Mathis. When his eyes shift, I quickly whirl around to face Noah. “Don’t listen to him,” I beg, rushing toward him. But Noah doesn’t spare me a glance. His eyes are on Mathis. I grab his hand in mine. “He’ll say anything to rip us apart. He’s lying. Don’t listen to him.”
But Mathis isn’t done. “Tell him about the arrest and the tabloids and the drugs and how your parents forced you out of town.”
Desperately, I grab Noah’s face and pull it toward mine. His eyes are cold and lifeless. “Please. Please look at me Noah. You know me. I should have explained all of this a long time ago—”
“How the fuck did you not know?” Mathis says, flinging his words at Noah. “Don’t you watch the news? Her face was plastered everywhere for weeks. She’s Leni Fucking Barrick, for God’s sakes.”
Mathis turns toward me, shaking his head.
“This is ridiculous, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t be with someone like him. He’s no one.” He jabs a finger toward Noah, who finally reacts.
Stepping around me, Noah stalks forward, his giant frame eating the space between them as he crowds Mathis against the wall. Mathis squares his shoulders, puffing out his chest as he prepares to go head to head, but I know I can’t let Noah get into a fight. I won’t let him stoop to Mathis’s level because of me.
“Noah—” I take a step toward them, but someone grabs my arm, stopping me. I twirl around. Charlotte shakes her head.
“Let him handle this,” she whispers.
A part of me is pissed at Charlotte for calling Noah, the other part of me grateful. But I yank my arm out of her grip.
“Get the fuck out,” Noah growls.
“Fuck you—”
Noah’s arm whips back and his fist connects with Mathis’s face. The crack rings loud through the small space, and Mathis’s head flings to the side, blood spewing everywhere.
Covering his nose and mouth, Mathis tries to stop the bleeding, but it’s no use. Blood seeps through his fingers and runs down his chin.
“This is really who you want? Someone like him?” Mathis screeches at me.
Noah pulls his arm back once more, but I lunge forward, wrapping my hands around his bicep.
“Yes.” I tug on Noah’s arm, and he lowers it, but I don’t let him go because I need to be touching him. I need the connection. I need to know we’re okay—that we’ll be okay. “He’s everything I’ll ever want. He’s so much more than you’ll ever be.”
With a disgusted shake of his head, Mathis plows out the front door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “This isn’t over,” he calls over his shoulder.
The door slams shut, and Noah shrugs out of my hold.
“Noah.” I take a hesitant step toward him, but he dodges, stepping around me. My stomach drops, dread rolling through me. “Please, let me—”
“Would you just give me one goddamn second to process this?” he shouts, pacing away from me. Running his hands down his face and through his hair, Noah takes several deep breaths. His body vibrates with energy, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing, and all I want to do is close this rift between us.
The enormous gap I created.
“Please,” I beg, trying again, but Noah whirls around.
“Fine.” Noah turns to me, nostrils flared, chin held high. “You want to talk? We’ll talk.” I hate the tightness in his voice, but mostly I don’t like that my secrets are hurting him. “Who the fuck are you, Lennon? Or is it Leni? Is your last name Barrick or St. James? You’re my goddamn girlfriend, and I don’t even know your real fucking name.” His voice rises with each word, and I flinch as it gets louder and louder.
“Calm down, Noah.” Charlotte steps up next to me, no doubt to give me strength, and oh, how I wish I could absorb some of hers right now.
But I can’t. I created this mess, and I’ve got to be the one to clean it up.
Noah nods toward Charlotte. “Did she know?”
Charlotte opens her mouth, but I rest my hand against her arm. “Charlotte recognized me when she first saw me.”
Noah heaves a frustrated breath, his eyes darting toward Charlotte. “Would you give us a minute?”