Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 165

Chapter 165

“What?” His face hardened, the warmth drained away, replaced by a chilling coldness. “You’re calling me a liar? After everything I’ve done for you? You’re seriously going to stand here and disrespect me—”

“You haven’t done a damn thing for me except wreck my life and screw me over,” I cut in, my voice shaking but fierce. “I let you get away with it every day while I was growing up, but if you ever lay a hand on Emily or Mom again… I swear—”

He stepped closer, so near I could catch the sharp scent of whiskey clinging to him beneath the sterile hospital air. His voice dropped to a low, threatening hiss. “What are you gonna do, boy? You couldn’t do shit when you were under my roof. You took what you could and ran. Don’t come back here playing the hero.”

Before I could even react, his hand shot out, grabbing me by the collar and slamming me back against the wall with brutal force. The air whooshed out of my lungs, and a sharp pain bloomed in my chest. The room spun slightly, the fluorescent lights blurring at the edges.

I barely had a moment to catch my breath before he spat at me, venom dripping from every word. “I could put you in your place any damn day. You come here with your big talk—tell me, what are you gonna do about it? Move back in and protect her? Because I’d love to beat you down some more, just like the old times…” His breath was hot against my face, his words a cruel threat wrapped in memories that tasted like fists and fear—familiar and suffocating.

Rage exploded inside me. I shoved back with everything I had. “You motherfucker!” I bellowed, blinded by fury. My knuckles collided with his chest. He laughed—a harsh, ugly sound—and shoved me harder against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of me again.

Then, something in the cold, fluorescent air shattered. Aiden was on him in an instant—no hesitation, no calm reasoning, no polite warnings. With a firm grip, he seized my father by the collar and shoved him back like he was ejecting a dangerous intruder from a doorway.

He pulled me into his lap gently, as if I were the one wounded, wrapping his arms around me and letting me tremble. He smelled like cold air, worn leather, and something clean and steady. For a moment, the entire hospital seemed to shrink down to that single comforting press of him. His hand moved slowly and soothingly over my back, steadying me until my sobs began to quiet.

“Noah, I had no idea… I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice low and fierce. “But I swear to you this—while I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you like that ever again.”

I clung to that promise because I had to believe it. I had no other choice.