table in case she wanted to sit by him. He’d even gotten into a fistfight when one of the guys cursed in front of her. He had known she was too good for him, too pure, but that didn’t stop his adoration.
It’d been stupid for him to show his fascination for her. He should have known what would happen. Should have known that Mitchell wouldn’t allow someone as wonderful as Rebecca to show any attention to Noah.
Noah had been diligently working on his homework at the kitchen table when the sheriff showed up, gun in one hand, handcuffs in the other, and arrested him for the rape of Rebecca Stanley.
Sickened and outraged, Noah had proclaimed his innocence. No one believed him. Why would they? He was the bad Stoddard. The one who was always in trouble, always stealing, breaking the law, causing problems. The one destined to come to a bad end. Mitchell was the good son, the righteous one.
He tried not to think what Rebecca had gone through, but couldn’t stop. What had once been pure, fresh, and innocent had been destroyed by his brother’s hand and Noah felt responsible. He had known his brother coveted what Noah had and he hadn’t thought to protect Rebecca.
After a while, Noah stopped asserting his innocence. He was responsible for what happened, if not by deed, then by sheer stupidity and carelessness. Noah was sentenced to two years—his lawyer told him that was the best he could hope for. Noah hadn’t cared.
A young girl was brutalized, her innocence destroyed, and his brother, his identical twin, remained free. And there hadn’t been a damned thing Noah could do.
Noah always wondered if he might have gotten out and gone on to lead a normal life if that had been all that had had happened to him.
Cursing himself for rehashing what couldn’t be changed, he took his half-eaten meal and threw it into the garbage disposal. Quickly cleaning up the kitchen, he headed back to the living room. There was no point in going back in time. No use crying over spilled blood. That wasn’t all that had happened and he and normal would never be acquainted again.
Normal to him would probably scare the shit out of most people.
At night, alone, angry, afraid, and then finally resigned, Noah had created in his mind an organization that did care. One that would do anything and everything, no matter what the cost, to protect innocents.
When he’d finally gotten out of prison, he only had one desire, and that was to see his dream fulfilled. With the help of the most decent man he’d ever known, along with much sweat and the occasional bloodletting, he’d created Last Chance Rescue. Rescuing innocents was his life, his reason for breathing. He hadn’t saved his mother, because he was too weak. He hadn’t saved Rebecca, because of his selfishness. Now he saved as many as he could.
And someday, very soon, he would finally repay a debt no one but Noah could pay.
The door clicking open alerted him that Samara was home. Sitting at the small desk in the living room, his body loosened from the tension he hadn’t been aware he had. Eyeing her, he hid his concern under an expression of cold rationality.
She looked calm, no longer hurt. Her eyes sparkled clear, but the telltale swollen eyelids revealed she’d been crying. Something tugged in his chest. He hadn’t come here to hurt her, but they’d been working together for one day and he’d already made her cry.
“You okay?”
Her animated face flickered with something, before she cocked her head slightly and said, “You’re a jerk, Noah McCall, but I’ve seen worse. You need my help for this job, so in the future, I would recommend that you don’t piss me off too much.”
He clenched his jaw to keep from grinning at her. “Deal.”
“Good. Now, I’ve been thinking.” Dropping her shopping bags on the floor, she threw herself on the couch and slipped out of her shoes. Bending her toes back and forth as if they needed exercise, she continued, “Since you’re
It’d been stupid for him to show his fascination for her. He should have known what would happen. Should have known that Mitchell wouldn’t allow someone as wonderful as Rebecca to show any attention to Noah.
Noah had been diligently working on his homework at the kitchen table when the sheriff showed up, gun in one hand, handcuffs in the other, and arrested him for the rape of Rebecca Stanley.
Sickened and outraged, Noah had proclaimed his innocence. No one believed him. Why would they? He was the bad Stoddard. The one who was always in trouble, always stealing, breaking the law, causing problems. The one destined to come to a bad end. Mitchell was the good son, the righteous one.
He tried not to think what Rebecca had gone through, but couldn’t stop. What had once been pure, fresh, and innocent had been destroyed by his brother’s hand and Noah felt responsible. He had known his brother coveted what Noah had and he hadn’t thought to protect Rebecca.
After a while, Noah stopped asserting his innocence. He was responsible for what happened, if not by deed, then by sheer stupidity and carelessness. Noah was sentenced to two years—his lawyer told him that was the best he could hope for. Noah hadn’t cared.
A young girl was brutalized, her innocence destroyed, and his brother, his identical twin, remained free. And there hadn’t been a damned thing Noah could do.
Noah always wondered if he might have gotten out and gone on to lead a normal life if that had been all that had had happened to him.
Cursing himself for rehashing what couldn’t be changed, he took his half-eaten meal and threw it into the garbage disposal. Quickly cleaning up the kitchen, he headed back to the living room. There was no point in going back in time. No use crying over spilled blood. That wasn’t all that had happened and he and normal would never be acquainted again.
Normal to him would probably scare the shit out of most people.
At night, alone, angry, afraid, and then finally resigned, Noah had created in his mind an organization that did care. One that would do anything and everything, no matter what the cost, to protect innocents.
When he’d finally gotten out of prison, he only had one desire, and that was to see his dream fulfilled. With the help of the most decent man he’d ever known, along with much sweat and the occasional bloodletting, he’d created Last Chance Rescue. Rescuing innocents was his life, his reason for breathing. He hadn’t saved his mother, because he was too weak. He hadn’t saved Rebecca, because of his selfishness. Now he saved as many as he could.
And someday, very soon, he would finally repay a debt no one but Noah could pay.
The door clicking open alerted him that Samara was home. Sitting at the small desk in the living room, his body loosened from the tension he hadn’t been aware he had. Eyeing her, he hid his concern under an expression of cold rationality.
She looked calm, no longer hurt. Her eyes sparkled clear, but the telltale swollen eyelids revealed she’d been crying. Something tugged in his chest. He hadn’t come here to hurt her, but they’d been working together for one day and he’d already made her cry.
“You okay?”
Her animated face flickered with something, before she cocked her head slightly and said, “You’re a jerk, Noah McCall, but I’ve seen worse. You need my help for this job, so in the future, I would recommend that you don’t piss me off too much.”
He clenched his jaw to keep from grinning at her. “Deal.”
“Good. Now, I’ve been thinking.” Dropping her shopping bags on the floor, she threw herself on the couch and slipped out of her shoes. Bending her toes back and forth as if they needed exercise, she continued, “Since you’re
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