My stomach rumbles, and I have to put my hand to it. “This should be fun.”
Ethan comes out of his room in less than two minutes, wearing his Spiderman pjs with a white T-shirt. “I’m ready,” he announces, so I get up and walk to the door.
“I’m downstairs!” Beau shouts up. Ethan and I both walk down the stairs and find him in the family room. A bottle of whiskey sits on the counter, and I look over at him, seeing that he has a glass in front of him. This is a mistake, I think to myself. There has to be another way to do things. There has to be something else that we can do if just the thought of being with me and only me has him drinking. I walk to the couch, and I’m about to sit down when Beau looks at me. “Come sit next to me.” I walk over to him and sit next to him.
“Is this a family meeting?” Ethan asks, and I just look at him. “I hear some of my friends say that they have family meetings. Is this what it is?”
“Yes,” Beau answers at the same time as I answer, “Kinda.”
“Ethan.” Beau leans forward. “Your mom and I have decided to get married.”
“Okay,” he says, looking at me and then at Beau, repeating it twice more.
“To each other,” I fill him in, just in case he wasn’t getting it.
His face fills with the biggest smile of his life. “I knew you guys loved each other.” He claps his hands.
Beau and I share a side look. “I love your mother very much.” His voice is soft and sincere. I know he loves me; he just doesn’t love me like I love him. He looks over at me. “And, well, I’m lucky that she feels the same.” He puts his hand on my knee, my eyes flying down to his hand.
“Is that why you always watch her?” Ethan asks. “And why you mumble things to yourself when she walks away?”
I look over at Beau. “Everyone loves differently,” I say.
“Cool,” Ethan says. “Where are we going to live?”
“Um …” I’m about to tell him that we will still live at our house, but then it’ll be hard to explain how a man and wife don’t live together.
“I like it here,” Ethan says. “We can bring our stuff here.”
“You can,” Beau says.
“Cool,” he says again. “Can I go watch television until bedtime?” he asks, and we both nod our heads. When he walks out of the room, Beau finishes the rest of his whiskey.
“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he says, hissing after taking four gulps of whiskey.
“Could have been a lot worse.” I close my eyes and lean back.
“Do you want to move in here?” he asks, and my eyes open now. “We can always live at your house. I just figured this is a bit bigger than your place.”
“Just a touch.” I laugh. “When are we going to do this?”
He’s about to answer me when his phone rings and so does mine. “It’s my father,” he says.
I look at my phone. “It’s my mother.”
“Well, this is the perfect opportunity,” he says, and my heart starts to speed up. “No time like the present.”
“I think I’m going to vomit,” I admit. He looks down and swipes to the right to answer the call.
“Hello,” he says, and I can hear his father’s voice rumbling out. He just listens. “I’ll be by the house tomorrow. Will you be there?” His father continues talking. “Good, I’ll be there at eight.” He hangs up. “Your turn.” He points at my phone that is ringing in my hand again.
“Hello.” I answer my mother.
“Good God,” she huffs out. “Took you long enough to answer.” I roll my eyes and glare over at Beau who snickers. “Mary Ellen just called to inform me about your accident.”
“Good news travels fast, I see,” I say sarcastically.
“That isn’t funny,” she hisses. “I told you that you were being reckless.”
“I don’t think me getting run off the road by a crazy driver is me being reckless, Mother.” I close my eyes, feeling that my head is going to start to throb any minute now.
“I warned you that you were pushing Clint,” she whispers, and I look over to see if Beau could hear anything she just said. “I told you it wouldn’t end well.” I swallow now, my body starting to shake. Beau spots it, and his face looks frantic. “It was a warning.”
“A warning?” I repeat the words in a whisper. “A warning.”
“You’re just lucky,” she says, and I cut her off.
“I was with Ethan.” My voice trembles, or maybe I think it does. “He could have been hurt.”
“And you would have no one to blame but yourself.” I look at the phone now. This is my mother, the person who is supposed to protect me, the person who is supposed to pick me over everything else.
“Mother.” My voice comes out in what sounds like a hiss and a shout. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I look over at Beau, and I know he’s going to have questions. “What if something happened to Ethan?” My tears come now, and I don’t even move to wipe them off. “What if he got hurt or worse?” I don’t say the words, and I refuse to think the thought.
“Well, he’s fine,” she says.
“That’s it,” I say. “I’m done.” I look at Beau who sits there with clenched fists. “It’s over, Mother.”
“Finally,” she huffs. “You said something smart for a change. I told him you would see the light.”
“Oh, no, Mother, I’m not talking about that.” I shake my head. “I’m talking about this. Me and you, our relationship.” I throw my hand up. “Or whatever you want to call it.”
“Savannah.” She laughs. “I’m your mother.”
“I think that is where you are wrong,” I tell her. “A mother protects her child. A mother lives for their child. A mother will put her life before her child, each and every single time and not just when it’s convenient for them.”
“I gave you everything, you ungrateful little shit!” she shouts. “Everything. I had to move away because you got yourself knocked up, and instead of doing the right thing, you had the bastard.”
“Goodbye, Mother,” I say, hanging the phone up. It rings again, and this time, I decline the call. The sob rips through me, and Beau leans over and grabs me into his arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s going to be okay.”
I bury my face in his chest as his hands rub my back. “You were right,” I finally say between sobs. “You were all right.” I lean out of his arms, and I look at him. “It was your father.”
Chapter Nineteen
Beau
I’m not sure I hear her when she says the words between her sobs. “What did you say?”
I ask her again.
“It was him.” She gets up now and has to pace, something she does when she’s nervous. “I never thought he would do something like that.” She shakes her hands. “Ethan.” A sob rips through her, and she bends, putting her hands on her knees. “Me, okay, but him?”
My blood is boiling. “I need you to go upstairs and stay with Ethan.” When I get up, she looks at me. “I need to go speak with my father.” I walk over to her. “Can you do that?”
“I don’t want you to go,” she says, and I’ve always wanted to hear her say those words. “Don’t go.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I say. “I promise you that I’m going to be right back.”
“But …” She clings to my arms. “What if he …?”
“I promise you that I am coming right back,” I say, and she just nods. I want to kiss her before I leave. But I don’t want to rush this kiss. No, I want all the time in the world to kiss her for however long she lets me. Hopefully forever.
I turn and walk out of the house, calling Jacob. “Hey.” He answers on the second ring. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I say, getting into the car and wanting to punch the steering wheel. “I’m going to talk to my father. Savannah thinks it was him.”
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“Do you think you can find proof it was him?
” I ask him, and he huffs.
“You’re my best friend,” he says, “but I’ve been trying to pin something on your father for the past fucking six years. His hands are always squeaky clean.”
“Fuck.” I shake my head. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea going over there when you’re this heated?” He’s always the voice of reason.
“Probably not,” I say, making my way over to my parents’ house. “But I need to tell them that I’m marrying Savannah.”
He laughs now. “She finally caved.”
I breath out now. “Yeah.” My stomach burns, thinking that to her this is her nightmare.
“I’m here.” I look over, seeing the lights on in my parents’ house, and forget that my mother was having a dinner. “I’ll call you later.”
“I’ll be on standby,” he says and hangs up. I walk up the steps and open the door, hearing the sound of music from somewhere in the house along with people chattering. I walk to the dining room, and it’s no surprise that there must be forty people here. My mother is always one for hosting. She looks up and sees me, her face lighting up with a smile.
“Beau,” she says, getting up from her place and walking over to me. “Glad you could make it.” She kisses my cheeks and whispers, “You couldn’t dress better?”
“I’m not here for dinner,” I say, looking around the room and smiling and nodding at whoever is looking at me. I spot my father sitting at the head of the table. He leans back in his chair, his linen suit perfectly tailored to him. I look a lot like him, but that is where it stops. “Father,” I say, “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”
“Now isn’t a good time, son.” He smirks. “We have company.”
I look at him. “I have no problem saying what I want to say in front of everyone if that is what you want.” He must see that I’m livid, and he just laughs.
“It’s hard passing the reins over.” He puts his linen napkin from his lap on the table. “If y’all will excuse me, my son needs me. He’s a chip off the old block always working to make the town perfect.”
“Really, Beau?” my mother says between clenched teeth, a smile on her face. “You are ruining my dinner.”
“I’ll be back, dear.” He kisses my mother’s cheek, and she just nods. My father leads the way to his home office. He opens the door and waits for me to walk in before closing the door behind me.
“Now, what has ruffled your feathers, boy?” he asks, walking toward his liquor cabinet. Taking his crystal tumbler in his hand, he pours a whiskey.
“Was it you?” I ask, and he just looks at me. “Were you responsible for Savannah’s accident?”
He looks at me and then turns back to his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m asking if you were the one who made sure Savannah’s truck was forced off the road.” I watch him. He smirks to himself, picking up the glass and bringing it to his lips.
“Son.” Just the way he says it makes my skin crawl. “It’s not my fault that woman has made enemies.” He takes a gulp of his whiskey. “It’s just sad that her son was mixed up in it.”
“You mean your grandson.” His eyes fly up, and he looks at me, glaring.
“Watch your tone.” Any other time, I would have just walked out of the room, but not this time. Not after everything that I found out.
“I’m going to marry her.” I watch his face. “I asked her to marry me, and she accepted.”
“Your brother’s sloppy seconds,” he says, and I step toward him.
“You should choose your words wisely, Father. I would hate for someone to hear the secret that you’ve gone to great lengths to keep.” I advance more now. “You’ll also show my future wife respect.”
“You have got to be out of your mind if you think you are going to marry her.” He shakes his head. “There is no way. You are a self-respecting mayor. You come from the best family that there is. You have generations upon generations of blue blood.”
“And?” I look at him.
“You can’t marry that woman.” He slams his glass down, and his voice gets a touch louder. “She’s a woman you fuck, not marry.”
“That’s two,” I say, putting up my fingers. “You insult her one more time, and I’m going to forget you’re my father when I slam my fist through your face.”
“You’d better watch yourself.” He glares at me as someone knocks on the door. “What is it, Mary Ellen?”
The door opens, and my mother comes in. “Listen, you two,” she says. “I will not have our good name dragged through the mud. People will think you are in here fighting with each other.”
I look at my mother. “I was informing Father that I’m getting married.”
My mother puts her hands together. “Oh, that is wonderful.”
“To Savannah,” my father tells her, and the smile on my mother’s face drops.
“Beau.” The way she says my name is almost in pity. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Really, Mother?” I put my hands on my head. “And why is that?”
“Well, she has a child,” she starts.
“Mom, are you saying I have to marry a virgin? Because I can tell you right now, your debutante girls are not virgins,” I say, and she shakes her head.
“It’s not just that. She has a child.” My mother wrings her hands. “But it’s just not suitable.”
I look up. “I’m not here for your permission,” I tell them. “Either of you. I’m here just to let you know that I’m marrying her, and she’s mine.” I look at my father now. “And with being mine, that means I will do what I need to do in order to protect her. Even if it’s from my family.”
My mother now sniffles. “This is crazy.”
“I love her,” I say out loud, and my mother just stands there with her mouth open in shock.
“What has love got anything to do with it?” my father asks. “She’s a little slut. You see her. She’s probably slept with half the town already, and you’re the idiot who is going to marry her.”
My mother gasps. “That’s three.” I turn and walk to the door. “Also, that’s your last warning.” I look at my mother. “I take it you aren’t going to offer me your mother’s engagement ring?”
“It’s a family heirloom,” she says.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I say, then look at my father. “I meant what I said. She’s mine now. You fuck with her, and you are fucking with me.” He stands there with his shoulders square and his back straight. “You should also know I can play just as dirty as you, old man.” I grab the doorknob. “What was it you said? Chip off the old block?”
“You’ll regret this,” he says.
“I would hate to think that you just threatened me.” I wait for my father to say something else.
“Of course not,” my mother says. “He would never hurt you. You’re his son.”
I laugh bitterly. “Have a nice evening.” I walk out of my parents’ house and make my way back to my house. The whole time, my body shakes with rage and my hands have a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. When I pull up, I see that the house is pitch black, and I wonder if she left. Opening the door, I see that a little light is coming from the family room, so I walk back to the room, and I see that she is pacing the floor. She looks like she’s been crying.
“Where is Ethan?” I ask, and she looks over at me, putting a hand to her chest.
“Jesus, you scared the crap out of me,” she says. “He’s in bed.” She comes to me now. “Are you okay?”
Holding up my hand, I walk over to my whiskey and pour two fingers in a glass. Then I take it down in two huge gulps, and it burns all the way down to my stomach. “It was him,” I say the three words that I never thought I would say. Maybe I was naïve about it, or maybe I was just hopeful that he would be a decent human. I don’t know what it was but admitting it just … I pour another two fingers and look over at her.
<
br /> She stands there, and I take her in. She put on one of my sweaters that is way too big for her. Tears roll down her cheeks as she clutches at her stomach. Her whole body shakes, and I rush to catch her right before she falls. I put one hand around her waist and another on the back of her head. She clings to me, her hands gripping my shirt while her tears soak through to my skin.
“He’s not going to hurt you,” I whisper to her. “I promise you that he will not hurt you.” She just sobs in my arms. “I got you, baby,” I say.
“I have to leave,” she says. The four words I never want to hear. “It’s not safe for Ethan or for you.”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” I say. “Not now, not ever. This is your home.”
“I can build another home,” she says, looking up at me, and my hand goes to her cheek. “I can buy another bar.” Her voice goes lower now. “But I can’t buy another you.”
“I told them I was going to marry you,” I say, omitting the nasty things my father said. “Tomorrow, we have to go get you a ring.”
“You really are going to go through with this?” she asks, confused. “This is a mess, and you don’t need this. You just got elected mayor.”
“We,” I say, rubbing my thumb across her cheek. “We are going to go through with this.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she says, and all I can do is pull her to me and hold her. I hold her in the family room for as long as she lets me.
“How about we talk about it in the morning?” she suggests, and I just nod. “I’m going to go to bed.”
“I’ll be right up,” I say. “I’m going to lock up down here.” She walks out of the room, and I turn off the lights after I put the glass in the sink. When I walk upstairs and peek in on her, she is already asleep. I take another shower, trying to let the tension go, but when I slide into bed, all I can do is look up at the ceiling.
The phone on the side table buzzes, and I reach for it, seeing it’s Jacob. I sit up now, knowing that nothing good is going to come at two a.m. in the morning. “Hello?”
“Is Savannah with you?” he shouts, and I get up now.
Southern Storm ( The Southern Series Book 3) (Souther Series) Page 12
