“Not going to give us a chance to win back our money?” Tomasz asked in a frosty voice.
“I’m be back tomorrow night,” Noah assured. “You’ll have your chance then.”
His fingers lightly touched my leg, communicating for me to get up. Butterflies filled my stomach at the small contact. I stood, and Noah took my hand, leading me outside. I glanced up at him, feeling another swell of attraction. I’d never thought about what my type might be, but I was starting to think Noah was it. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, because he was far from the strait-laced, church-going boy my dad would’ve liked to see me end up with.
My heart raced the entire time we walked back to the car. I worried the men might follow us, beat Noah up and take back their cash. If this were a movie, that’s what would’ve happened.
But they didn’t follow us, and we reached the car unscathed. I lowered myself into the passenger seat, strapping on my seatbelt as Noah tossed several wads of cash into the glove compartment before dropping one in my lap.
I stared at it, dumbfounded. There had to be at least three or four hundred euros. A moderate sum to most, but not to me. My pulse spiked as I thought of all the things I could do with that money.
My eyes found Noah’s. “What’s this for?”
“For keeping your mouth shut about Aleksy.”
My attention went to the money once more, then back to him. “Um, okay, but … you didn’t have to bring me here tonight. And now you’re paying me off. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I wanted to bring you.”
“Why?”
His gaze held mine, something like affection playing in his eyes, a smile almost reaching his lips. “Because I strangely enjoy your company.”
His answer caused a warmth to spring forth inside me. Stop being charmed by Noah! My brain screamed. He is a stranger. A mystery. Not to be trusted. “But who exactly is Aleksy?” I went on, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. “Why do you pretend to be him?”
“He’s just someone I become when the need arises.”
“Does the need arise often?”
His eyes flicked briefly to mine. “That depends.”
I narrowed my gaze. “And is there anyone else you become when the need arises?”
Noah tilted his head, a smirk touching his mouth. “Well, I play Aleksy a lot, but sometimes I might need to be Timothy Burns,” he said, effecting a posh British accent. “Other times I’m Francois Bisset.” French now.
I stared at him, stunned. “Any others?”
“A few, but they still need work.”
“How can you do all those accents?”
“I learned them from different people I’ve spent time with. Impersonations have always come easy to me. Languages, too.”
I sat back, shaking my head as I shot him a look of incredulity. “Who the hell are you?”
I felt him shift closer, his eyes finding mine, and I got a little lost for a second. “Who do you want me to be?”
His question gave me goose bumps. I had no clue what to say, and a silence fell. “I’m just … confused,” I replied finally. “Noah Dylan is your true identity, right?”
“Correct.”
“So why all the fake ones? Are you an identity thief?”
He frowned. “Of course not. Aleksy, Timothy and Francois are all made up.”
“Do you have multiple personality disorder?”
He looked at me then back at the road. “I’m very much in control of my faculties, no matter what my sister would have you believe.”
“Your sister would have me believe you suffered several traumatic brain injuries and are now an out of control, unpredictable, wild-card.”
His smile returned, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone as he answered, “Okay, so maybe she’s not completely off the mark.”
My voice grew quiet as I shook my head. “What happened to you?”
He didn’t reply for a long time, but then his eyes latched onto mine, burrowing right into my soul, “Let’s just say, I understand how it feels to be powerless in that house.”
My throat constricted as he turned the key in the ignition and started up the engine. He pulled out of the parking spot and drove in silence. I thought of the last two years and how awful they’d been, missing Dad and being stuck in Ard na Mara under the tyranny of Vee. But what had Noah’s childhood been like? Sylvia was such a gentle creature, and by all accounts his father was a good man, so who exactly made Noah feel powerless?
Vee had been an only child before he was born, probably spoiled, too, since the Dylans had money once upon a time. Did she resent baby Noah for taking the attention away from her? Had she bullied him when he was a little boy the same way she bullied me?
The very thought made my blood boil, and I was suddenly filled with a newfound sympathy for Noah. If he really were as damaged as Vee would have me believe, maybe she was the one who made him that way.