Beautiful Terror (Burn It All Down Duet #2)

101. Volcano of Strength

CHAPTER 101

VOLCANO OF STRENGTH

DEX

I sit in the truck, my knuckles white as I grip the steering wheel. The salty breeze outside does nothing to calm me.

Margaux is gone from the apartment, and for the first time in months, I feel something close to relief. No longer tethered to the chaos, she's taken a step toward freedom. She’s finally done it—left him.

I close my eyes, imagining Margaux sitting in her hotel room, Sabre curled up beside her.

At least she has Sabre.

That cat’s been her anchor in this storm, her one constant source of comfort.

I’m proud of her. More than proud. She’s brave, stronger than she realizes. But the rage bubbling inside me threatens to overshadow the pride. Rage at Timmy, sure, but especially at Phil, the puppet master enabling this entire circus.

Margaux is out there rebuilding herself from the ruins Timmy has left behind, and Phil has the audacity to call her a ‘volcano of pain’? The words make my teeth grind.

A volcano? She’s not the one erupting, raining destruction on everyone around her. That’s Timmy. Phil’s blind devotion to his underachieving son is staggering, a testament to just how deep their dysfunction runs.

What parent defends a son who spits on his partner, destroys her belongings, and gaslights her into oblivion? And then, when his son pulls some half-assed suicide stunt, they call Margaux to clean it up, and blame her for it happening in the first place?

I park the truck in a random lot overlooking the ocean and stare out at the horizon. Waves crash against the rocks below, wild and unrelenting. They remind me of Margaux’s spirit—relentless, enduring, though Timmy’s done everything he can to erode it.

Timmy. That cowardly bastard. If he’d actually gone through with his suicide, maybe the world would be better off. That’s a dark thought, one I can’t shake. The wreckage he’s left in Margaux’s life is a constant reminder of how little he values anyone but himself. He twists her kindness into a weapon, takes every ounce of love she offers, and spits it back at her with venom.

I check my phone for updates from her. Nothing yet. She’s probably resting, or maybe working through the rubble of her emotions.

Either way, she’s out of his reach for now. That’s what matters.

The wind picks up, whipping through my hair, and I let it carry away some of the anger. Not all of it—it’s too much to let go—but enough to keep me grounded.

The truck door creaks as I climb out, the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground. I lean against the hood, watching the waves.

Timmy might think he’s won, but Margaux’s stronger than he’ll ever be.

Margaux’s absence from her apartment is only temporary. Before I know it, she returns.

And yet, I understand why she’s gone back to the apartment.

It’s who she is.

Margaux can’t help but try to salvage the unsalvageable.

She feels guilt, fueled by Phil’s blaming her for something Timmy clearly never intended to follow through with.

She’s probably worried—with good reason—about her belongings.

And she’s clinging to the life she imagined with him, to the version of him he pretended to be when they first met.

Margaux’s journey isn’t over. She’s still tethered to Timmy in so many ways—financially, emotionally. But she’s taken the first step. She left, even if it was only for a couple of days.

They say it takes the average abuse victim seven attempts to leave their abuser, so this is a step in the right direction, and it would be foolish to have expected it to be a permanent move.

I hate that she has to go through this.

I hate him for making her question her worth.

The texts she’s sent over the past few days paint a picture of pure madness—Timmy, drunk and ranting about imaginary slights.

Timmy, destroying her property out of petty revenge.

Timmy, playing victim to anyone who will listen.

And Phil— goddamn Phil —laps it all up, enabling his son’s every destructive whim.

When I found out Timmy destroyed Margaux’s prized laptop, I wanted to fly straight to the Cay and put my fist through Timmy’s face. Destroying her MacBook wasn’t just a petty act of revenge—it was an attack on her livelihood. Her writing is everything to her—it’s her escape, her passion, her means of survival. And he just… poured water into it? For what? To prove he could?

He’s a child, lashing out at the person who loves him most, because he knows she’ll forgive him. Or at least, she used to. Not anymore.

The list of damages is staggering. The printer, the specialty drinks, the missing window screen—he’s made a game of dismantling her world and costing her endless expense.

And for what? Because she had the audacity to stand up to him?

Because she saw through his act?

Every broken item feels like a message: This is what you get for leaving me. This is what you get for speaking up and trying to hold me accountable.

She’s starting to see him for what he is—a narcissist, a manipulator, a parasite. Her research on DARVO and reactive abuse is helping her untangle the mess he’s made of her mind. She’s realizing that the guilt he’s heaped on her shoulders doesn’t belong to her.

I hate Timmy, and I hate Phil for defending him.

I have to believe she’ll keep walking. Because the alternative? That’s not a world I want to imagine.

For now, I’ll stay here, ready to support her however she needs.

Timmy and Phil might have broken her spirit, but they’ll never break her completely.

She’s stronger than they could ever understand.

And I’ll make damn sure she never forgets it.