Fire

by McAdams, Molly

  He gestured to my kitchen. “I’m trying to figure out why you have enough desserts to feed all of Amber sitting in your kitchen when none of that shit was here last night. I wanna know if you’re okay. I need to get a feel on where you’re at after what we told you last night.”

  “Stop looking at me like that. I couldn’t sleep,” I ground out, refusing to let him make me feel worse than I already did. “You already know I’m not okay, and as for last night?”

  “Beau showed up at the ranch yesterday morning,” my mother-in-law had informed me after dinner had ended.

  A ragged breath had ripped from my lungs as I’d looked around to make sure my kids weren’t within hearing distance of her.

  Both Sawyer and his girlfriend, Rae, looked at her as if they couldn’t believe she’d mentioned it at all.

  “That’s, um . . . yeah, good.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she’d said thoughtfully, then looked to Sawyer.

  After a long sigh, he’d met my stare. “He isn’t doing well, Savannah. He’s a mess without you and the kids.”

  “And I’m doing much better?” I’d challenged, voice trembling.

  “You need to talk to him,” Sawyer had gently pleaded. “It’s been more than two weeks. You can’t keep him from his kids like this.”

  I knew that.

  I’d known that.

  But I was afraid of what would happen when I saw Beau again.

  Would I fall apart and say something I could never take back? Would I fall into his arms and forgive everything simply because that man held my heart and soul in his hands? Would I ever be able to look at him and not see him and the girl who had been my best friend? Because every time I’d thought of him since the day I’d found out, all I could see was him and Madison.

  Worse yet? The vow he’d broken.

  “Sawyer, he made me a promise,” I said shakily. “He promised no more fighting.”

  “I know,” he began placatingly.

  “And I promised that I would be done,” I hurried over him, voice a pained cry. “I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t watch him destroy our future, and I don’t know—” My chin trembled as I fought the quick-to-build tears. My steps were hurried as I pushed past him and moved through the kitchen to sit at the large table.

  Once I sank into a chair, Sawyer was there, sitting next to me and waiting patiently.

  “I never wanted to change Beau,” I said when my breathing had returned to normal and those jagged pieces in my throat had disappeared. “But his anger had changed . . . heightened. And I just had this terrible, crushing feeling in my gut each time he lost control that I wouldn’t get the chance to have a future with him because he wouldn’t be there for it. So, as much as it killed me, I knew if there was going to be any hope of a life with him, I had to stand up for myself and mean it.”

  “What if he hadn’t been able to stop fighting back then?” Sawyer asked after nearly a minute had passed in silence.

  “Then we wouldn’t be here at all,” I answered and swiped at a tear that slipped free. “And now . . . I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back on my word when a broken promise is why we’re here. And I don’t know how to keep my word when that means losing him.”

  “Don’t do either. Don’t think of it that way,” Sawyer urged as he leaned forward. “It was bad, yeah, I know. He promised you he wouldn’t anymore. I get it, Savannah, I do—but this was different. You have to see that. His world was getting ripped out beneath his feet, and he snapped because he was trying to stop it from happening. And from what I’ve been told, he stopped as soon as you said his name.”

  “I know, but—”

  “This was different,” he repeated, trying to make me see something I couldn’t. When my head just shook, he said, “Savannah, he asked us if we think he’s like our dad.”

  My shoulders caved as a muted sob pulled from deep within me, my eyes shutting at the grief that wove through me.

  “Which means Beau thinks he’s just like our dad,” Sawyer finished carefully.

  But I already knew all that. “I know,” I wheezed through my pain for my husband. “I know. Ever since Cayson revealed everything, he’s been . . . different. Absolutely terrified that he’ll turn into your dad one day. Do to one of our kids what your dad did to Cayson.”

  “Fuck,” Sawyer mumbled.

  “It’s been breaking my heart,” I said in agreement.

  “Everything that’s happening, and you keeping him from the kids,” Sawyer began, voice uncertain, “I think it’s confirming all those fears for Beau. Savannah, he isn’t okay without you.”

  “I’m not okay without him, but I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to navigate through all this pain and the broken trust and promises. I’m so afraid I’ll say something that ends us before I give him a chance, and what if—” I pressed my lips close together, the thought that had been plaguing me for weeks trying to crawl free. “What if that isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He kept all that from me for so long. What if I find out there’s more?”

  “Savannah,” Sawyer began, doubt weaving through my name, but he clamped his mouth shut when I cut him with a look. Nodding subtly because he knew just as I did that we couldn’t know. “Talk to him. Let him see the kids at least. He needs that, and so do your kids.”

  “I know,” I said on a breath, my stare drifting toward the windows. “I know.”

  Sawyer stood and turned to go, squeezing my shoulder as he went. But when he reached the kitchen entrance, he called my name, drawing my attention to him. “Beau? You’ve been there for so much of it. You’ve seen him at his worst. His anger and the impulse to fight is second nature, but he’s fought it all this time for you and those kids. He’s only losing control now because he’s afraid of losing you.”

  All I could offer him was a hesitant nod.

  Beau should’ve never done anything for that fear to be real, and I hated that he had. His betrayal and this entire situation made me feel sick. Made my body heavy with unease and unknowns.

  Still, I knew I couldn’t continue on the way I had. Knew Sawyer was right.

  I pushed from my chair and wove through the kitchen in search of my phone once Sawyer was gone, my stare catching on my inner wrist as I brought the screen to life. On the quarter-sized outline of angel wings that brought dozens of memories bursting to mind and had thousands more tied to it.

  My phone clattered to the tiled floor just before I fell heavily to my knees. A sob wrenched from deep inside my soul and poured into the empty room. Filling the space with my grief and anger and confusion until it surrounded me.

  Golden eyes.

  Savannah.

  Right in front of me with destruction surrounding me.

  God.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Just stared at me with that same look she always gave me—like she understood. Like she saw me in a way no one else did.

  And I wanted to die.

  My stomach twisted and lurched, but I sucked in shallow breaths, forcing it to calm as I held her gaze. Clung to it so that sickening haze wouldn’t cover my eyes and that need to hurt someone wouldn’t take over again.

  “Mr. Dixon.”

  I worked my jaw but didn’t look away from Savannah.

  “Mr. Dixon, my office now.”

  I ripped my stare away from her and turned, scanning the circle of our classmates that had gathered around.

  Some of them whispering.

  Some of them pointing.

  Nearly all of them looking at me like they were afraid of what my next step would be.

  I looked at the three boys being helped up by their friends and led to where the gym teacher and vice principal were waiting, then met Hunter’s disappointed gaze. His head shook slowly where he stood with his girlfriend, Madison, in the crowd.

  Before I could make it to where everyone had parted for our principal, he called out, “Grab
your bag, Mr. Dixon.”

  Damn it.

  I turned, not even sure where it had ended up, and found Savannah holding it close to her chest.

  “I’ll see you after school,” she said firmly as she handed it over.

  I didn’t respond. I never did when these things happened. I was always waiting for her to realize what she should’ve years ago.

  That I was bad news. Dangerous. That she should get far from me and never look back—everything her parents told her on a near-daily basis.

  But that girl hadn’t left my side since the day she’d fallen into my life. Truthfully? I didn’t know what I would do if she did. But if it was better for Savannah, I would find a way to deal.

  I would do anything for her.

  “Mr. Dixon,” the principal said, sighing heavily when I followed him into the office. “Why was I not surprised to see you in the middle of that fight? Wait, no!” he said quickly like I’d been about to answer.

  I hadn’t been.

  “Not in the middle of it. You’d already taken out three students and were looking for someone else to fight. Anyone else. Isn’t that right?”

  I wasn’t sure about that part. Didn’t mean he was wrong.

  I couldn’t remember anything that happened between turning for the third guy and the moment I found Savannah directly in front of me.

  “Got anything to say for yourself?” He leaned toward me from where he was sitting on the edge of his desk. “Be thankful those boys were getting up, or we’d be having a different conversation.”

  Another heavy sigh left him when I didn’t respond.

  “Mr. Dixon, I want to be able to help you. I do—we all do here. But you make it hard when you don’t talk to us and you terrorize the hallways and my students.”

  My jaw ached when I met his stare.

  His head slanted like he was expecting something from me. “If there’s anything you want to say before I call your parents, now’s the time.”

  “You should be calling their parents,” I murmured.

  “What’s that?”

  “Call their parents,” I snapped. “I’m not the one terrorizing your precious hallways.”

  “Check the way you’re speaking to me, Mr. Dixon.”

  “I’m not the one terrorizing other kids,” I continued, voice getting low with my rising anger. “Those assholes are there every day, calling out shit to everyone.”

  “Okay, language,” the principal said in a calming tone.

  It had the opposite effect on me.

  “Making fun of kids. Talking about girls in ways they shouldn’t. Touching them.”

  “Let’s sit down.”

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I bit out and jerked away from his hand.

  I hadn’t realized I’d stood. But I was there. Right in front of him. Hands clenched into tight fists and body trembling with the anger that was always waiting to be set free.

  “Sit down,” he shouted.

  The edges of my vision went red in response.

  I turned and shoved the door to his office open, storming through it and down the hall with him right behind me.

  “Get back here, Mr. Dixon.”

  “I got it, I’m suspended,” I called out as I continued away from him.

  By the time I made it out of the main office, I was running.

  Running to get away before I could make it worse. Trying to outrun the anger and humiliation fighting for dominance in my veins.

  By the time I made it home, Mom was waiting outside, and Dad was pulling up from the orchard.

  Mom just looked at me, hands slapping against her thighs as a soft sob left her. “Beau—”

  “Let’s take a second,” Dad said, trying to remain the calm one. “Let’s take a breath and get inside, then we’ll talk.”

  “It’s the third time,” she cried out to him before looking back at me. “Third time this year, Beau. What if those boys are seriously injured? What if—”

  “Wendy,” Dad said, disapproval filling his tone.

  She let out another cry and wiped at her face. “Beau, I just . . .” A breath left her, heavy and weighed down, looking like it dragged her shoulders down with it. She didn’t need to finish the thought, I already knew what she was thinking.

  She didn’t know what to do with me anymore.

  She’d been saying that for a long, long time.

  I nodded and started walking for the house, already knowing they were gonna send me to my room, but stopped when she asked, “What could possibly have happened this time to make you do this?”

  A jagged breath left me as the echo of their taunts played in my mind.

  “Damn, Riley, been hiding those girls under sweatshirts all winter?”

  “It’s a crime to keep those from the rest of us.”

  “Give us a little peek.”

  Things those idiots said to girls all the time.

  Shit that should’ve been stopped long ago. But that hadn’t been what set me off—Savannah had kept a firm hand on me as we’d passed them. Keeping me moving. Grounded. Making sure I wouldn’t react when I’d tried to.

  It had been the high five Savannah received when she’d come into one of the classes we shared later. The gossip that followed.

  Two of the guys had blocked her path to class while the third had grabbed her ass. She’d turned and slapped him.

  Philip Rowe.

  I hated that guy.

  What’s worse? His family was close to Savannah’s. Their dads had been in the same fraternity in college, and Philip’s dad was the whole reason Mr. Riley took a job near Amber, prompting their move here.

  And I got to listen to Mrs. Riley talk about how perfect it would be if Savannah and Philip got married when they grew up. How great of a kid Philip was—so polite and proper and that young boy’s going places . . . just you watch.

  Bullshit.

  If she only knew.

  Savannah had tried to get my attention all throughout class. She’d tried to stop me when the bell rang. But I was already so far gone, racing out of class and down the halls.

  No one touched Savannah. Ever.

  Especially not perfect, fucking Philip.

  “They did something,” I finally answered with a quick shrug before continuing to the house.

  Mom let out a sound that shouted all her frustration and sadness.

  Dad tried to calm her.

  I went inside and climbed the stairs, then hid behind the hallway wall. Waiting for when they would enter the house.

  “What do we do?” Mom said through her tears. “What are we gonna do with him, Mike?”

  “Wendy, just breathe.”

  “I am breathing,” she cried out. “You don’t understand what it’s like having to deal with the calls from parents. What it’s like having to listen to them describe what Beau did to them. Having to apologize and try to explain something I don’t know how to explain.”

  “Then I’ll take the calls,” he said calmly.

  “And what happens when he puts someone in the hospital?” The last words were said so softly, they almost didn’t make it up the stairs.

  But I heard them.

  And they cut right into my chest.

  When Mom continued, her voice was trembling about as bad as I was. “What happens then, Mike?”

  “He won’t.”

  “You can’t know that! The principal said he took down three boys before Savannah managed to stop him. Three. It’s getting worse, you know it is.”

  There was a long silence before Dad said, “We don’t know that. We don’t know what happened.”

  “Mike—”

  “He ain’t any worse with his brothers than he’s always been. He’s just stronger.”

  “And he’ll get stronger,” Mom argued. “And nothing makes a difference to him. The therapists and doctors only aggravated the situation. Discipline did the same. He accepts groundings and-and-and suspensions quietly. But it doesn’t make a difference.”
r />   “I know, honey. That’s why we gotta respond differently with him. Be open and calm.”

  “He doesn’t need open and calm. He needs to go to—”

  “No,” Dad snapped.

  “Mike—”

  “I said no, Wendy. I ain’t changin’ my mind on that.”

  I looked toward the stairs when my dad’s heavy steps moved through the house, wondering what Mom had been about to say.

  When her soft cries followed after him, I turned and slipped down the hall and into my room. Falling onto my bed and dragging my hands over my face as the jumbled blur of a fight played out in my mind until sleep claimed me.

  * * *

  “Shit,” I hissed when something heavy landed on my stomach and launched the object away from me as I scrambled to sitting on my bed.

  My backpack hit the wall next to where Hunter stood inside my room with his arms folded over his chest.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “You left that in the principal’s office,” he said softly. “I got to hear all about why.”

  My chest shook as I thought about what our principal might’ve said to him—how his older brother was a problem. A bad influence. Not someone to look up to.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Couldn’t stay there,” I said instead of explaining myself.

  “Yeah. Got that.”

  “How long am I suspended for?”

  A smirk stretched across his face. “You don’t know?”

  “Think I’d be asking if I did?”

  “Three days.” He started for the open door and shrugged. “Same goes for the trio of ass wipes.”

  Surprise swirled in my chest, but before I could ask, Savannah was slipping past him and into my room.

  My heart and stomach dropped as I staggered off my bed. Shame building so great that it nearly took me to my knees.

  As soon as Hunter shut the door behind him, I was stepping close enough to Savannah that I was nearly touching her. “I’m sorry.”

  Disappointment poured from her as she studied me. “Why?”

  I blinked slowly as I absorbed that one word that seemed to pack a punch.

  In the four years of knowing Savannah, she’d ended up near most of the fights I’d found myself in.