Chapter 41: The Audacity of Noah I stared at Demitra’s door, my hand hovering inches away from knocking, from barging in, from demanding answers she clearly wasn’t willing to give. Each creak of the old building seemed to amplify my internal turmoil. “Trust,” I muttered under my breath, the word tasting like ash. I couldn't trust her right now. Maybe I never really had. Turning away felt like admitting defeat, like abandoning her to… what? I didn’t even know what. But the feeling in my gut, the nagging, persistent dread, wouldn’t let me stay. I had to figure out what the hell was going on, and Demitra, for whatever reason, wasn't going to help. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts. Greg. Greg knew Noah. Had known him for years. Probably knew all his dirty secrets. Knew whether he was the type to send creepy anonymous texts or not. Worth a shot, anyway. I found Greg’s contact and paused, debating. He'd definitely give me shit for this, for needing his help. Our conversations always devolved into a pissing contest of who was the better baller, the better brother, the better… everything. But this was bigger than our petty rivalry. I tapped the call button. "Yo," Greg answered, his voice muffled, probably mid-workout or something. "It's Jim," I said, skipping the pleasantries. "Well, look who it is. What's up, little bro? Finally need some real advice?" I rolled my eyes. "Just need to ask you something. It's important." "Oh really? So important you had to interrupt my gains? Spill it." "It's about Noah," I said, and I could practically hear Greg’s eyebrows furrow over the phone. "Noah? Risling? What about him?" "I need to talk to you about him. In person." "Whoa, hold up. What's this about? You suddenly buddy-buddy with Greg's childhood friend? Something I should know, Jimmy?" The sarcasm was dripping. I ignored the bait. "Just need some information, that’s all. Can we meet?" "Depends," Greg said, drawing out the word. "What kind of information? Is this some weird jealousy thing because he’s friends with D?" “Just answer the question, Greg.” My patience was wearing thin. "Alright, alright, chill. I'm intrigued. What's got the great Jim Feder so worked up about Noah Risling? You think he's stealing your shine?" "It’s not that," I said, trying to keep my voice even. “It’s more… complicated.” Greg was silent for a moment. "Complicated how? Is D okay?" There was a hint of genuine concern in his voice, a sliver of the brother I actually liked. "She's fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly. "Just... I'd rather talk about it face to face. Can we meet?" “I am at the gym right now,” Greg groaned. “But I can’t ignore that tone when you say Demitra. What’s going on?” “Can we just talk?” I repeated. “I don’t want to explain over the phone.” "Fine, whatever. But you're buying," Greg said, immediately back to his usual self. "Meet me at that diner on Bleecker, the one with the shitty coffee. In like, twenty?" "Yeah, whatever," I said, already heading for the elevator. "See you there." I hung up, feeling a knot of anxiety loosen in my chest. I was actually going to get some answers. Hopefully. I just had to survive Greg’s endless teasing first. The diner on Bleecker was a greasy spoon classic, the kind of place where the coffee was always lukewarm and the booths were perpetually sticky. It was exactly the kind of place Greg would pick. I walked in, scanning the room. He was in the back, already nursing a mug, looking entirely too smug for someone who hadn't even heard what I had to say yet. I slid into the booth across from him. "You’re already drinking coffee? I thought I was buying." "Patience, little bro," Greg said, taking a sip. "I needed a caffeine boost to deal with your bullshit." "Real mature," I muttered, signaling a waitress for a coffee. "Alright, alright, enough foreplay," Greg said, leaning forward. "What's this all about? You're acting like Noah's some kind of supervillain or something." I took a deep breath. "He's... I don't trust him. Something's off about him." "Off how? The guy's an actor, Jimmy. He's supposed to be a little off." “It’s more than that, Greg. He’s being weird around Demitra and it’s not sitting right with me.” "So you're jealous," Greg said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I knew it! Little Jimmy's got a crush." "It's not a crush," I snapped, immediately regretting my defensiveness. "I'm just… concerned. He’s a little too friendly with her, and she is not catching on, and she is not getting the situation." Greg raised an eyebrow. "Concerned? Is that what we're calling it now? You didn’t happen to start dating Demitra, did you?” "Just tell me what you know about him," I pressed, ignoring the teasing. "Anything. Anything at all." Greg leaned back, considering. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know? Noah’s a good dude, man. I've known him since we were kids. We were always doing theatre camp together, you remember? And I can see that he has always, always been a great, dedicated actor. I never really was into acting but I saw that he had the talent. He’s talented, a bit intense, but good people." "Intense how?" "You know, he throws himself into his roles. He's a method actor, right? He'll research, he'll immerse himself... sometimes he gets a little carried away. But he never like, hurt anyone or anything." "He has a record," I said, watching Greg's face. "Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest." Greg sighed. "Yeah, that was one time. A bar fight. He was defending a friend. It was years ago." "Demitra told me that," I said, "but she said it was just a mistake." "Well, it wasn't exactly a premeditated assault, you know? Some drunk dude was harassing his friend, Noah stepped in, things got out of hand. It happens." I drummed my fingers on the table. "Has he always been... obsessed with Demitra? She mentioned he had a crush on her in high school." Greg chuckled. "Obsessed is a strong word. He definitely had a thing for her, yeah. Who didn't? But he never did anything creepy or anything. He was just... always around. Like a puppy dog." "A puppy dog with a criminal record," I muttered. "Come on, man, you're reaching. Noah's just a little... eccentric. He's harmless." I thought about the anonymous phone call, the threats, the way Noah’s eyes had seemed to bore into me. I didn’t think he was harmless. I thought he was dangerous. "He seems fixated, Greg. He seems like he wants to hurt me and he seems like he knows a lot about me." "You're letting your jealousy get the best of you," Greg sighed. "You always have to overthink everything, don’t you?” "What is it that you think I am jealous of?" I asked Greg. "You like Demitra, I know it. I knew it the day you two met. You have to know that it’s not a one way road with that stuff." I took a sip of my coffee, which was, as predicted, lukewarm and bitter. "Did Noah ever talk about Ms. Hanover?" Greg frowned. "Ms. Hanover? What's she got to do with this?" "Just answer the question." "No," Greg said, shaking his head. "Never heard him mention her. Why? What's going on, Jim? You're scaring me here." "I think he has something to do with the threats that were made to me," I said. "I think that he hired someone or did something himself." "Come on, man, you're sounding crazy." I stood up, pacing the small booth. "I don’t trust him, Greg. And Demitra isn’t seeing it. I feel like I need to protect her." Greg watched me, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Look, I get you're worried, but you can't just go around accusing people of being stalkers and masterminds without any proof." "I'm not accusing him," I said, though I definitely was. "I'm just… trying to figure things out." I grabbed my wallet, tossing a twenty on the table. "Thanks for the coffee, Greg. And thanks for… listening." "Hey, hold on," Greg said, grabbing my arm. "What are you going to do?" "I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm going to find out the truth about Noah, one way or another." Greg sighed. "Just… be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid." I gave him a wry smile. "When have I ever done anything stupid?" I turned to leave, but Greg stopped me again. "Jim," he said, his voice low. "There's something else. Something I didn't tell you." I stopped, turning back to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. "What is it?" Greg hesitated, his eyes darting around the diner. "It's about Noah," he finally said. "He said you'd call."