She was already gone, and I hadn’t stopped it.
As soon as I saw Hunter on his knees in the middle of the driveway, I’d turned and run upstairs to my room, searching for my phone. I’d called Madison again and again, but there was no ringing or voicemail. The call didn’t even go through.
That afternoon, I had to be the one to tell Savannah that her friend had left.
I would’ve gone through any pain, taken any of Savannah’s anger, if it took away the consuming grief that burst from her and continued to slowly bleed from her for months after. If it brought back that extra light that was still missing from her.
Fuck, I would’ve done anything if I could’ve just taken back that goddamn night.
The guilt I felt every time Hunter came to me, needing a friend in the months after Madison left, was unbearable. I verbally lashed out at him and eventually lost control, fighting him until he stopped coming around. Until we stopped talking at all.
Then he was gone too—off in the military.
And I was there, trying like hell to forget something that was always in the back of my mind, reminding me I was the reason for everyone’s pain. Trying to keep my fiancée together when I knew things—had done things—that were the cause of her sorrow. Trying to make mine and Savannah’s dreams come true when my lies and anger were always there, haunting me.
By the time Savannah called a few hours later, I was deep on the property, trying to scrub away the suffocating guilt by noting everything that needed to be done in the next few months.
“Angel,” I said in answer, the word a soft rumble as I turned and took in the back of the property and the plantation house in a new light.
All those years of dreaming and planning, and it was about to be ours.
“Hey,” she said, sounding relaxed and all sorts of mischievous, a tell that she’d had a drink or two. “Okay, so, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“You don’t even know what I did,” she hissed into the phone.
“Trust me,” I murmured as that earlier pit opened wide again, reminding me that Savannah could never do anything that would come close to what I’d done to her. “You’re not gonna make me mad.”
A scoff of disbelieving amusement met my ear, and I pictured her rolling her eyes. “Okay, so, we may have gone shopping and gotten our nails done.”
“All right.”
There was a pause before she hesitantly added, “I may have spent, like, two hundred dollars. Fifty. Two hundred and fifty.” She made a distraught noise. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m gonna take it back. I have to take it back, right? I can’t believe I did that. I don’t know what came over me. Or maybe I—I dunno . . .”
I waited until her self-scolding, inebriated ramble trailed off, rubbing at my jaw and fighting a smile as I listened. “Babe, when’s the last time you went shopping?”
“Um . . . I’m not . . . maybe for my high school graduation dress?”
“Four years ago,” I said slowly. “You’re fine.”
“But we need to save money,” she whispered.
“We do—we are. You also need to do things for yourself every once and a while.”
“What about you?” she countered softly.
“I hate shopping.”
Her scoffing laugh filled the phone. “But you don’t do anything for you.”
She had no idea how wrong she was.
“I keep a girl I don’t deserve,” I murmured as I took in different parts of the property—each that had a memory tied to it. Where we’d first dreamt up our lives. Where Savannah wanted to get married. Where we’d first explored each other’s bodies under a night of stars.
“That isn’t . . .” She sighed gently, wonder filling her voice when she continued. “That isn’t the same thing.”
“It is,” I argued. “Maybe one of these days, you’ll understand that my life with you is everything I want.”
“I love you.”
“Every breath,” I vowed.
She exhaled slowly and said, “Well, are you gonna come see what I spent all that money on?”
My mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “Tell me where.”
“Well, I was thinking on me for now, and later tonight, maybe on your bedroom floor . . .”
“Where are you?” It was all a low demand as I stalked across the property to my SUV.
A breath of a laugh sounded in my ear. “My favorite place.”
I stopped short and looked around even though I could hear subdued holiday music and laughter through the phone. “The plantation house,” I said, confident in the answer even though I knew she wasn’t there.
“Whoops—nope. Second favorite place. I’m there.”
“Got it.”
“Come find me.” Wicked excitement lit her voice before she ended the call, and then I was climbing into my car and cranking the engine.
Carefully reversing down the side of the property to the large U-shaped drive, as if I was still afraid of getting caught. It wasn’t until I was pulling onto the street that I realized those days were behind us.
Almost.
And I couldn’t wait to get to Savannah so I could tell her . . . at least part of the news. But her second favorite place was a hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the next city over that we’d been going to for years, and it wasn’t exactly close. Then again, nothing was close to Amber, but I didn’t wanna be anywhere else.
When I was little, I’d always thought I’d escape one day. Escape the people and kids who feared me—who saw me a certain way. Find a place where I could hide away in a crowd.
Or just get lost.
And then Savannah happened and everything changed.
She made me see the world differently. Made me want more for myself. Pushed me to go for what I wanted, even if I thought I didn’t deserve it. Even if the people of Amber thought I didn’t . . .
Most of them were judgmental assholes anyway.
I glanced at my phone when it started ringing and started to decline the call since I was about to turn into the restaurant but accepted it at the last second.
“Mom,” I answered as I lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hey, sweetheart, hi. Have you, uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “Are you with Savannah, by chance?”
I pulled into a parking space and turned my car off, not wasting time getting out and starting across the lot. “I’m about to be, why?”
“Well, I was with her earlier—”
“You were?” That brought me to a stop. I glanced at the restaurant and then turned around to block out the distraction of lights and people through the glass windows. “When?”
“Oh, she didn’t—well, never mind. Anyway, she just seemed . . . off might be a word? Very Savannah, but also very not.”
The muscles in my jaw worked as flashes of Savannah over the past couple of years burst to mind. Her smile not as bright. Always seeming to be waiting for something—someone. Never dancing unless it was for teaching.
“I think she’s having a hard time,” Mom added. “Especially today.”
“What’s today?” I asked, mind racing to think of what I could’ve missed.
“Oh, nothing. Well, it’s just not for me to tell you.”
“Mom.”
“Son, I have no doubt you’ll find out as soon as you see her.”
I mumbled a curse. “All right, then I gotta go.”
“Love on that sweet girl and be gentle with her.”
I lifted a hand. “As opposed to?”
“Don’t get snippy with me, Beau Dixon, just go take care of my future daughter-in-law!”
“Damn it,” I ground out when the call ended and turned, already jogging for the door to the restaurant. But when I walked in, I found Savannah in the bar area, surrounded by our friends, head tilted back as she laughed.
I made my way over there, looking for anything in her expression that would hint at what my mom had been talking about, but she looke
d light and free for the first time in a long time.
The drink in her hand might’ve had something to do with that.
The corner of my mouth ticked up when I noticed what she was wearing. It was so Savannah—all comfort and sexuality—and I fucking loved it. An unbuttoned, red flannel shirt that I was pretty sure was new over a pair of skintight black pants that she would live in if she could.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered when I saw what was beneath the flannel.
“Babe!” she called out when she caught sight of me, reaching for me and pulling me closer to where she was pressed up against a barstool.
“Your shirt,” I said against her lips when she reached up to kiss me.
“You like?” she asked excitedly, grabbing at the flannel and inspecting it as if she were looking at it for the first time.
A rumble of assent built in my chest as I slid my hand around her waist, curling my fingers around the thin, black shirt underneath. “This is see-through.”
A wicked glint flashed in her honey eyes when she looked at me.
“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” I murmured as I lifted my other hand to trail the tips of my fingers across her jaw.
A giggle rolled up her throat and danced across her lips. “Look good on your floor though, right?”
“Fucking perfect.”
“You’re not mad?” she asked, voice dropping to a whisper I could barely hear in the bar.
“Savannah, why the hell would I be mad?”
“Because it was impulsive and stupid, and I should’ve asked you,” she rambled quickly, her head lowering to hide whatever emotion had started creeping across her face.
I pressed my thumb under her jaw to stop her and went still when a body crashed into me.
The impact was a trigger I couldn’t afford—not then, not ever. Causing a haze of red to creep around the edges of my vision and every muscle to lock tight in preparation.
Anticipation.
“Oh God, sorry,” a voice wrapped in laughter said. “Beau, sorry. Shit, sorry.”
My gaze slanted to the side in time to see Tanya using my arm to keep herself vertical. Before I could attempt to start unlocking my body to help her, Alex was there, pulling her up and giving me a look like he knew I was struggling.
“You good, man?” At the dip of my chin, he cracked a smile. “Bartender said they were already three drinks in by the time I got here. Want anything?”
“No.”
Shock and disbelief billowed from him. “Not even your one drink?”
“Not this time.”
He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine, fine.”
“But we’re celebrating!” Tanya whined and lifted her hand to catch the bartender’s eye before quickly swinging toward Savannah and me, forcing Alex to move with her to keep her upright. “It’s so beautiful.” Her glassy stare went to me. “Did she tell you how pretty it is? The most beautiful-est in the whole world of princesses and fairies.”
“I think I missed something,” Alex said as Tanya sagged against his chest. “I thought we were here to celebrate only having one more semester.”
“I didn’t know there was a reason,” I said as I finally succeeded in lifting Savannah’s face and felt my world narrow in on that girl when I saw the tears clinging to her cheeks.
“The fuck?” I breathed.
“It really is so pretty,” Savannah whimpered before choking on a sob.
“Oh, honey,” Tanya said, reaching for her, but Alex held her back.
“Savannah, what’s wrong?” I begged, inching her closer to me.
She waved a hand over her body before letting it fall heavily to my chest, her face crumpling with emotion.
“What—” I looked from Alex’s shocked expression to Tanya. “Why the fuck did you let her go shopping if she was this upset about it?” Focusing on Savannah again, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Savannah, it is not a big deal. Babe, you have to know that. I don’t care that you spent money. You shouldn’t either.”
“It isn’t this,” she said over a strangled sob, her shoulders hitching as she sucked in jagged breaths. “I . . . I found my wedding dress.”
“Okay, great, let’s go buy it.”
“We did,” she said, sounding devastated over the fact when I would’ve expected something a hell of a lot different. “And it’s beautiful and perfect and wrong—everything about our wedding’s just . . . wrong, it’s wrong.”
Everything went cold.
My blood. My heart. My soul.
I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight. Too heavy.
“Savannah,” I managed to say through the glass in my throat, “can we talk outside?”
“No.” She shook her head in wide, wild shakes as she unsteadily got onto the barstool. “No, I’m celebrating—we’re celebrating.”
“I think we should talk.”
“They aren’t here,” she cried softly as more tears fell.
I glanced to Alex, and he nodded in understanding, pointing the other direction and turning Tanya that way as Savannah continued rambling.
“Everything’s perfect, and you’re perfect, but it’s all wrong because they’re not here.” She hit her chest with a closed fist. “Madi was supposed to be there with me today.”
If I hadn’t already gone still, I would’ve then.
Unable to move from that paralyzing guilt.
“She’s supposed to be there then. On the day. But she won’t because she left me, and she’s just gone.” Her forehead creased in pain. “Why did she leave me—and Hunter!” she added quickly. “He isn’t here. He’s your brother and your best friend, Beau. But he’s gone too, and he hasn’t said if he’s coming to our wedding yet. And, so, it’s all wrong.”
“Savannah, I’m—”
“And,” she whisper-yelled, “I just realized this morning that I was late. Like, late-late.”
It felt like a shockwave hit me. Slammed right into me in a mixture of confusion and wonder and denial. “What?”
“Two weeks late.”
“I think I’m pregnant,” Madison confessed. “Hunter’s . . . if I even am.”
“If,” I bit out. “You’re just gonna throw that shit out there when you don’t even know?”
“I’m two weeks late . . . more than.”
I shook off that night and the gut-wrenching guilt as I studied the woman in front of me, my voice low and harsh as I demanded, “What? Wait, and you’re drinking?”
“I’m not.” She waved a hand around her. “I started when we were dress shopping, so there’s no—I’m not. But I had started thinking that it might be nice. That I might love being pregnant, even if the timing wasn’t right. Because it would be us and perfect and then I was wrong about that too, and I couldn’t call Madi for any of it. So, I went and got my nails done and went shopping, and I spent money I shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t care about the fucking money, Savannah,” I ground out. “But right now, I think we need to leave.”
“I don’t wanna go,” she said, head shaking fiercely as she wiped at her wet cheeks. “We’re celebrating . . .” Her glassy eyes studied the ceiling. “Something. I don’t remember what.”
“We can celebrate another time,” I assured her. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I wanna stay.”
“Savannah—”
“Man, she said she didn’t wanna go,” a voice said from behind me just as a palm shoved into my shoulder. “Get the hint and leave the girl alone.”
In an instant, everything changed. My breaths slowed and deepened. My jaw ached from the pressure I was putting on it as the world around me became saturated in red.
I slowly glanced over my shoulder at the man straightening behind me and puffing out his chest. Each movement and the challenge in his eyes had that sick, dark need in my veins pumping faster.
Raging.
Begging to do something.
I needed to get Savannah out of there—get us
out of there—before I lost control.
Challenging me wasn’t something that should be done . . . ever. That side of me responded to it. Fed off it until I couldn’t stop what followed.
But on a day like then? After near-constant reminders of what I’d done to Savannah and my brother. Of how my girl was still breaking because of mine and Madison’s fucked-up attempt to cover what we’d done? I was already standing on a dangerous ledge of guilt and loathing that fueled the anger I tried so hard to suppress.
The softest breath, and I was going over.
I curled my fingers against Savannah’s waist. Feeling her there and forcing myself to breathe. To count backward even as the muscles in my back tensed and twitched in preparation as another guy stood and slowly rounded my side.
Caging me in until I was shaking.
“Beau,” Savannah breathed, her hand sliding over my chest and then gripping my shirt tightly. “Come on, you’re right. Let’s go.”
The guy behind me took a step closer and raised a hand. “Darlin’, you don’t have to go—”
“Don’t call her that,” I seethed, my voice a sharp warning.
“It’s fine,” Savannah said quickly, words slurring as she stumbled off the barstool and tried tugging me away. “We’re fine and we’re leaving.”
“Darlin’, you can’t expect us to let you leave with someone you were refusin’ just seconds ago.”
“I wasn’t—that isn’t—no,” she stammered as she struggled to grip my hands. To soothe them.
Because I’d released her the instant he’d called her darlin’ again.
Fingers curling into fists as tremors rolled through my body.
“Beau, please,” she whispered, voice shaking about as badly as I was.
“Think you’re tough shit,” the first guy continued as I forced my arm around Savannah and told myself to move. To walk away. To get her outside. “Making women cry. Telling them what to do and where they can go. Bet she falls into doorknobs a lot too, huh?”
No sooner had his hand met my shoulder in another shove than I had the collar of his shirt in my fist. Pulling him close enough to watch his eyes flare with fear before a look settled there that I’d seen too many times in my life.
Fire Page 25
