"How long has this shit been going on?" he bit out, keeping his eyes on the house rather than glancing at Rory.
"What shit?" Rory eyed him warily.
Noah flicked his hand at the house. "Sykes."
"'Bout a year." Rory flopped down at the base of a tree and yawned as though he were safe.
Noah flicked a look down at him. "And you didn't stop it, why?"
Rory looked up at him in surprise before scratching his cheek thoughtfully. "Hell, probably because he's the only one of the men she's gone out with that I actually like."
Noah's jaw clenched. "How many have there been?"
Other men. Not just one man. Other men had gone out with his wife. Stared at her smile, lusted after her. He couldn't imagine one of them touching her, or he'd have to kill them all.
"Just a few." Rory shrugged as though it didn't matter. "They never last long. A few dates here and there. Then she'll get all guilty feeling, wear her wedding band for a while, and bury up here in the house when she's not working before she forces herself to try again. She hasn't worn her wedding band in over a year now though."
Rory picked at a blade of grass as Noah went back to watching the house.
Sykes was still in the kitchen, probing around, looking through drawers. The bastard straightened a cup on a hook and paced to the far window to look down on the garage. There was a look of pending ownership on Sykes's face, as if he were already imagining exactly what he intended to change in Bella's life.
Yeah, Noah knew him, well. Duncan hid his strong will from most people, but he was no one's fool. He'd been seeing Sabella for a year, then he was serious about it. He had every intention of owning everything Noah had once possessed as Nathan Malone.
"You left her," Rory stated with a hint of anger. "It wouldn't be any of your business if she had f**ked half the town, anyway."
He didn't say anything, because Rory was right. He had left her. He had taken that mission knowing there was a chance of failure. He had failed and he hadn't come back.
"What happened with Grant?" he asked Rory. '"He tried to take the garage and the house after promising he would take care of her if anything happened to me. Why?"
"'Same reason he ended up with Grandpop's stuff, I guess." Rory sighed. "Because that's just how he is. Grandpop still excuses him. Says Grant is doing what he thinks will protect her. Grandpop always excuses him though. Calls it layers."
Layers upon layers, he had always told Noah a lifetime ago. Nothing is as it seems. With Grant, Noah couldn't imagine how it could be anything less than total selfishness.
"And Mike Conrad?"
Rory snorted. "That pig. He's pissed off because Sabella wouldn't screw him or sell him the garage. He seemed to want both. He chased after her for over a year until she had to threaten to sue him for harassment. Then he started getting ugly. He wanted the garage worse than he wanted her though. Tried to turn the town against her for a while, but that didn't work out too well. You had too many friends. Once she pulled her ass out of grieving for a man that just didn't want to come home, she threw herself into the business and pulled it back up. She does good now."
"Keep sniping at me, Rory, and you're not going to be able to walk for a while."
Rory snorted. He was quiet for long minutes before saying, "Grandpop went to your grave today. Usually he just walks out and talks to Grandma. But today, he went to your headstone and just stood looking down at it."
Noah didn't want to hear this. He pushed the rage and pain back inside himself and continued to watch Duncan prowl the kitchen.
"Strange thing about Grandpop, I just never figured it out until now."
"He didn't grieve," Noah answered for him.
Hell, he should have known better than to think he could fool the old man. Jordan should have known better. Grandpop had always known what was going on before it ever happened.
"That's true." Rory nodded. "Not even once. And not like Sabella did. I used to stay up at the house some. She would wake me up every night screaming your name, swearing there was blood on her hands, or swearing you were hurt. Begging me to save you."
Rory jumped to his feet. "Screw this. I'm going home."
"She was right."
He felt Rory still.
"What?" his brother asked carefully.
"She was right. I was hurt, Rory. Damned bad. And by the time I was rescued, I was barely alive." He watched Sabella walk into the room and smile at Duncan.
The other man finished his wine, kissed her cheek, and they headed for the door. Duncan's hand was at the small of her back, touching her, leading her. Damn, Noah was going to enjoy killing him.
He pulled the binoculars away from his face and stared at the house silently for long minutes before turning back to Rory.
"Grandpop should have grieved," he told him, his voice low. "Because the man I was died in a cell in a rotting jungle. Her husband, your brother. Son and grandson. It all died inside me, Rory. I'm not the man I was, and I never will be."
Rory gazed back at him for long moments. "That's not what happened," he finally said. "All of you didn't die, Noah. Trust me. All that stupid, testosterone-driven, arrogant-bastard pride of yours that you always hid from Sabella is still alive and breathing." Rory shot him a scornful look. "That part survived just fine."
Noah's lips quirked at that. Maybe, in a way, Rory was right there. He'd always hid parts of himself from those he loved, but Rory was a Malone, he knew that side of himself just as he knew the side Nathan had held back. Until now. That dark inner core, the dominant arrogance and powerful will had always been kept hidden, toned down. He had been civilized. Noah wasn't civilized.
"Follow them," he ordered Rory.
"Do what?" Rory exclaimed, outraged shock in his eyes. "What, you want her to kill me or something?"
"Do you want me to kill you?" Noah was in his face, his voice low, demanding. "Which one of us can hurt you more?"
He wouldn't really hurt Rory. Hell, that was his kid brother. He almost grinned at the man his brother had grown into. He felt affection. Fondness. Where Noah had felt next to nothing emotionally, for years, he now felt flooded with emotions. Emotions that tore at his control, that made a mockery of the years behind him.