He was getting a crystal clear view.
The warden stopped in front of a heavy, metal door. “He’s inside. A guard’s there, too.”
Noah lifted a brow. “Is the guard supposed to be for his protection or my own?”
The warden swallowed. “It’s protocol.”
It sounded to Noah as if protocol got screwed a lot down here.
The warden opened the door.
Noah stalked inside. Ethan Harrison was cuffed to an old table. He wore a bright, orange jump suit.
Nine years ago, the guy had been a fit, blond teen. Noah had seen Ethan’s pictures when he’d explored Claire’s past. He’d wondered how Ethan had fared in prison.
It looked like the guy had been on a vacation.
Ethan’s face was tan. His hair even blonder. His shoulders were wide. He appeared fit—and, worst of all, the bastard was smiling.
“I know who you are,” Ethan said as he inclined his head toward Noah.
“Good for you.”
Ethan leaned forward. He never even glanced at the warden. “Did Claire send you to see me?”
Noah hated to hear her name come from that jerk’s mouth.
“I miss Claire.” Ethan’s smile stretched. “But I have her pictures to keep me company.”
Noah tensed.
“They help me to get through the days. And the nights.”
Noah pulled out the chair across from Ethan. “You’ve had someone watching Claire.”
“My father liked to keep track of her.” Ethan’s eyes gleamed with what looked like amusement. “Did you hear? He died last night. Someone shot him.” Ethan raised his cuffed hands and tapped his forehead. “Right in the head.”
“Your father had a private investigator tracking her?” Noah kept his focus. This was important. He wouldn’t let the other man bait him. Noah’s rage built, but he held it back. “And he sent you the information that the PI gathered.”
Ethan tilted his head. He smiled at Noah. That smile was getting on Noah’s nerves. “Claire will tease and she will flirt,” Ethan said, “but she won’t sleep with you.” He shrugged. “She can’t. Claire knows she belongs to me.”
“Your father had someone watching her in New York.” Noah was trying to put all the pieces together. “He told you that Claire was with me.”
“I get to make one phone call a day.” Now Ethan glanced at the warden. “Even get to use his office. Thanks, Warden. I’ll be sure to let my great-uncle know just how well you treat me. Bet there will be some kind of bonus coming your way soon.”
Noah wanted to drive his fist into the guy’s face.
“I used that phone call last night. Talked to my father. He seemed to think you and Claire were together.” Ethan shook his head. “But he was wrong.”
“Your father was wrong about a lot of things.”
Ethan’s smile dimmed.
“He thought you were the poor, misled boy, didn’t he?”
“He thought I was obsessed. Claire’s the type of woman that can obsess a man.” Ethan’s gaze turned calculating. “But that’s why you’re here, right? Claire’s obsessed you.”
It was Noah’s turn to smile. “I can see you for what you are. I’m not some drunken old man.”
Ethan’s mouth tightened. “A man obsessed will do anything for the woman he loves, and I do love my Claire.”
No, he didn’t. He was a twisted jerk who needed to forget Claire. But that wasn’t happening. Noah knew that with absolute certainty now. “You’re never getting out of this place.”
“Because my parole was revoked?” Ethan’s brows climbed. “I only got fifteen years for the murders. I’ve served nine already. Six more years…Hello, Claire.”
The hell that would happen.
“And you know…with my father dying…I wonder if I’ll even get a special circumstances waiver…” Ethan’s stare darted to the warden once more. “With guards, of course, I might get to attend my beloved father’s funeral.”
Sonofabitch.
“So I will get out. One way or another.”
Noah had wanted to see Ethan Harrison for himself. To talk to him. Sometimes, monsters weren’t as bad as you thought.
Sometimes, they were.
He can’t ever get near Claire again.
“Claire has stayed true to me all these years,” Ethan murmured. “And I’ll always be true to her. I did exactly what she wanted, and she’ll never forget that.”
“Still trying to spin that line of bull?” Noah asked Ethan, and he shook his head in disgust. “I told you, I’m not your drunken old man. Claire didn’t get you to kill her parents.”
“Are you so sure about that?” Ethan laughed. “Even Claire’s closest friends weren’t sure. Claire…she has secrets. A darkness inside. With her, what you see isn’t what you get.”
Noah flattened his hands on the table. “There will be no more investigators who follow Claire. No one will watch her. No one will report to you.”
Ethan laughed again.
“If I see anyone even trying to watch her, they’ll have to deal with me.”
“The big, bad, hotel owner.” Ethan shuddered. “How terrifying…oh, wait, I’ve been locked up with murderers and ra**sts for nine years. You don’t scare me. Nothing scares me anymore.” And his façade dropped right then.
The humor, the mockery—vanished.
Evil remained.
“Claire owes me,” Ethan snarled. Spittle flew from his mouth. “And the bitch will pay me back everything.”
“I’m giving you fair warning,” Noah gritted out as his back teeth clenched. “A warning that needed to be delivered in person.” And he didn’t care if the guard was listening or if the warden overheard his words. Noah leaned forward. “You don’t know the man I used to be.”
Ethan’s brows furrowed.
“That man would have killed you the instant he walked into this room,” Noah said flatly.
“The guard—”
“I would’ve been across the table. I would have snapped your neck before you even had the breath to scream.”
Ethan swallowed.
“You forget Claire Kramer. You forget her now. Or the next time we meet…” Noah smiled at him. A smile that held a grim promise. “You’ll be a dead man.”
Then he rose and walked toward the door.