Epilogue
Standing in front of the massive windows in the library, staring out at the sun rising over the valley below Barker Mountain, for the first time in my entire life, I can truly take a deep breath, relax, and enjoy its beauty.
I can see why Callista comes up here so early every morning to witness this.
The way the light trickles out in long fingers over the trees, as if it’s trying to grasp them and hang on, find a secure foothold that will last all day, feels so natural.
Like things are exactly the way they’re supposed to be.
Or at least, they will be soon.
The sounds of all the heavy digging equipment as the FBI works in the valley on the arduous, likely years-long—task of trying to uncover all the bodies buried there was distracting at first.
Even with my help and that of the records I’ve provided them, part of me still wonders if they’re ever going to actually find everyone. But I did make sure they started with one body in particular, and I ensured it got back where it rightfully belonged.
Eliza may never forgive me for not protecting Ray, but at least she knows what happened now, and she can bury him where he deserves to have his final rest.
Over the last six weeks, I’ve tried to push that guilt away, along with all the regrets I’ve lived with for so long. I’ve attempted to let go of that curse that’s haunted me for too long. But there are some days when it feels like it might never happen.
I’ve done everything I can to ensure the Barker organization is dismantled piece by piece, that the FBI has everything it needs to prosecute Wendy and everyone who has ever done her dirty work to the fullest extent of the law.
But even that can’t wash the blood from my hands.
That stain is permanent.
A dull tinge I see every time I look at them.
But knowing I’ve done my part helps it fade slightly so that when I touch Callista when we’re together, I can do it completely unreserved.
I don’t have to hold anything back anymore.
I don’t have to be afraid of an uncertain future.
I don’t have to feel like I don’t deserve the thing that I know I can never let go or live without.
Little by little, those feelings have dissipated, and eventually, all the bodies will be gone, all the evidence of what this place once was will vanish, and maybe then things will finally fully settle.
I turn away from the window and make my way back over to the table that now stands empty, running my fingers across the polished wooden surface where I documented every dirty deed this family did since I was old enough to read and write.
All gone.
I glance at the climate-controlled case, now completely empty.
The ledgers and the journals boxed away and taken off by some FBI agents weeks ago.
Even though I know I’ll get them back once the case is done, the loss of those stories hit me harder than I thought it would.
I always convinced myself the Barkers’ history was irrelevant, that it had only done harm and turned us into horrible people. Made me The Beast. That my path in life was inevitable because of that laid by my forefathers.
But I was wrong.
Those journals weren’t merely documentation of how the Barkers built an empire. They weren’t a roadmap for evil. They were cautionary tales meant to teach the coming generations the dangers of living this way. Just no one bothered to heed the warnings spelled out on those pages.
It would be easy to say I regret everything in my past, but if not for what the Barkers before me did, I wouldn’t have Callista here with me.
Her footsteps on the stairs just outside the library draw my attention away from what’s missing in this room and toward the only thing I need to fill the space.
She steps in, bundled up in an oversized sweater that falls off one shoulder and leggings. Her blond hair, cascading down over her shoulders, even longer now than it was when she first arrived since she refuses to get it cut. Mostly because she likes me twisting it around my wrist and tugging on it as much as I do.
Fuck, I’m a lucky man.
She looks stunning this morning, practically glowing, her cheeks rosy from the cold air that has finally fully descended on the mountain. Mug in her hand, she closes the distance between us and holds it out. “I figured you might need one of these before Agent Dean comes up for another debrief.”
“Thank you.”
I accept it from her and drop a kiss on her forehead before I take a sip of the steaming-hot liquid, jet black, just the way I like it.
Her gaze falls on the table, then shifts over to the empty bookcase. “What are you doing up here, anyway? Did you forget to give them something?”
I shake my head and scan the room. “No, they have everything they need. I was just…reflecting.”
That soft line between her brows grows deeper. “On what?”
Offering a shrug, I motion back to the window. “Everything. So much has happened in only a few months.” I can’t fight the grin that pulls up my lips. “After you came barreling into my life.”
She laughs and wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face against my chest. “Well, to be fair, it was more like stumbling.”
“You really suck at walking in those heels.”
“Hey!” She jerks her head back, mouth agape, and smacks my arm. “I do not. It got stuck between the boards.”
“And what about when you wore them in the bedroom last week?”
I raise a brow at her, and images of her bent over the bed in those shoes flash through my head—along with her almost falling three times just moving around the room.
She scowls even harder and points at me. “That was because it was dark, and I couldn’t see where I was going.”
Chuckling, I take another sip of my coffee. “It wasn’t dark, Beauty. I had the candles lit. Remember?”
“Oh…” She frowns. “You did. Well, whatever.” She waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t suck at walking in heels.”
She does.
But thankfully, she does not do much walking once she puts them on.
I typically have her on her back or knees in about five fucking seconds the minute I see those fuck-me pumps, or they end up on the floor along with the rest of her clothes before I can enjoy the feel of them biting into my back.
“I’m not complaining, Beauty. You can wear them anytime you want. In fact, I encourage it.”
She laughs lightly. “I will. Don’t even think about buying me more, though.”
I chuckle at her incredulous reaction. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t really need them up here. And you’re right. They are a little hard to walk in. Plus…”
Callista pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing away for a second.
I grip her chin and tilt it up to me. “What is it, Beauty? What’s wrong?”
She releases her lip and clears her throat. “Nothing is wrong, per se.”
The acidic coffee in my stomach churns as I stare at the unease ghosting through her green gaze.
I hate to see it there.
Wish I never had to again.
Had hoped that once we got everything resolved with the FBI and Wendy that I wouldn’t have to.
But the last few days, she’s seemed a bit restless.
Off somehow.
And no amount of placations, extravagant gifts, or orgasms from me have seemed to make it any better.
“Beauty, I told you a long time ago never to lie to me. And that includes keeping things from me that you think I don’t want to hear. So, tell me what’s wrong before I have to come up with another way to get it out of you.”
A shudder of anticipation rolls through me.
Shit.
I hate when he does that, when he makes me those sultry, sensual promises because I know I’ll cave. There is no keeping anything from Weston, especially when he’s in Beast mode.
Not that I want to keep this particular tidbit of information from him. I’ve just been unsure how to broach the topic for the last few days.
I reach out and take the coffee from his hand.
He glances down. “You want some?”
Shaking my head, I set it on the table beside us. “No, I just don’t think you should be holding hot liquid when I tell you this.”
Visuals of the mug falling from his hand and shattering on the floor, splashing it up over us, flash through my head.
Definitely a good idea to take it away.
His eyes darken, worry making the lines on his forehead and around his eyes grow deeper. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Beauty. Just tell me already.”
“Well…” I gulp, trying to find the courage I had when I came up here with every intent to have this conversation, anyway. “You remember that day in the woods?”
Weston’s brow furrows deeper. “Which day in the woods?”
My body heats, thinking of all the times we’ve ended up naked in the trees in the last several weeks, despite the property being covered with FBI agents. The very real possibility of getting caught seems to only drive Weston’s urge to play that particular game more—and I can’t say I haven’t been one hundred percent on board with it, too.
“That day. In the rain…”
A grin curls his lips, and he brushes my hair behind my ear, letting his hand linger on my cheek. “Of course, Beauty. How could I ever forget it?”
I sure as hell never could.
That moment will be ingrained in my mind for the rest of my life, no matter how many more times we play that little game, no matter how many ways and places around the house he takes me like that. That particular day meant something that none of the rest of them did.
Now, even more so.
“Well, you know I had been here about a month when that happened…”
He nods. “Yes…”
Shit.
This is so much harder than I thought it would be.
Weston watches me expectantly, his eyes locked on me intensely, which makes it even harder to talk.
“Um, well, when I came up the mountain, I did it very abruptly, as you know, and just kind of threw a few things into my bag. Some clothes, basic necessities—”
His lips curve into a sly grin. “But you spent the time to put on that little black dress that left nothing to the imagination and the fuck-me pumps.”
I grin at him. “I did.”
“Yet, now, you’re telling me you don’t want any more of them, even if I like them?”
“It isn’t that I don’t want more of them. It’s just that I’m not so sure I can wear them much longer.”
His eyes widen. “Why not?”
Here goes nothing.
I suck in a deep, fortifying breath filled with his scent and that of the wonderful books that surround us. “Because one of the things I forgot to bring with me, that I didn’t even think about, with everything that was going on, was my birth control.”
His entire body stiffens, his hand tightening on my cheek, and his eyes narrow on me. “You’re not—”
I give him a sharp little nod, not even able to say the words.
“Are you sure?”
My heart stalls, tears threatening to fall as panic takes hold. “Yes. When we went back to my place to get the rest of my stuff, that’s when I realized I hadn’t refilled the prescription. And I panicked. I called my doctor while you were helping move my boxes out to the truck.”
His eyes flare wide. “That’s why you went to the doctor? It wasn’t just your annual checkup?”
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t.”
My hand trembles as I reach into the side pocket of my leggings and pull out the ultrasound picture. “This was why. She said, based on my bloodwork and the exam, it likely happened around that day…of course, they can’t know exactly, but…”
He staggers back a step, his hand falling away and his entire body shaking as he stares at the grainy black-and-white picture.
This is exactly why I was afraid of telling him.
Thisreaction.
The Beast never wanted a family, never wanted to be a father, never wanted this family curse to get passed on to anyone else. And he certainly doesn’t want a screaming baby and diaper duty at fifty-five years old.
“Weston, I’m sorry. It’s my fault—”
His eyes flick up from the picture to meet mine. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I didn’t plan on this. I wasn’t—”
He’s on me so quickly that I can’t even finish my sentence, ripping the picture from my hand and backing me against the table into the same position he had me in on our first night together.
His free hand tunnels in my hair, cradling the back of my head, and he stares down at me, his eyes flashing hot the same way they always do when The Beast comes out to play. “You don’t apologize to me for this, Beauty. This”—he holds up the picture in his other hand—“is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me next to you showing up and running from me in those woods.”
“It is? But I thought—”
He silences me with a kiss so potent that it’s like he’s trying to pour all of his emotion into this singular act.
And I feel it, deep in my core, that he means those words, that he truly is happy and wants this.
By the time he tears his mouth from mine, I’m panting, my body throbbing for him and ready just like it always is. “So, you’re not worried about having a baby?”
He raises a silver brow. “With you?”
“Yes. I mean, it’s going to change everything…”
A slow grin spreads across his lips. “You already have changed everything, Beauty. You’ve changed my entire life. You’ve taken me from a desperate, cursed man living with the dead to one who finally has something to actually live for.” His eye drifts to the ultrasound in his hand. “Two things, now.”
He swallows slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and his gaze darkens again.
“But I don’t know the first thing about being a father, so you’re going to have to help me. I never had a very good role model in that respect.”
The pain in his words slices at my heart.
Weston really got screwed over in the parent department, and visions of Dad and how great he was, how much he cared for me, what a perfect father he was right up until the day all this went down flash through my head.
“I can do that. There are also a lot of books you can read, you know.”
I glance at the bookshelf, empty of all the family ledgers.
He raises a brow. “I’d much rather fill that space with documenting every moment of this baby’s life, of our lives together. It would be a much better use.”
“You’re right.” I grin at him, relishing the pure joy I see reflecting back at me in his gaze. “It would be.”
He kisses me again, long and slow, and lets the ultrasound picture flutter onto the table so he can wrap his other arm around me and pull me tighter. His heart pounds against mine, racing with adrenaline coursing through him, matching the tempo of my own.
When I drove up this mountain, it was to throw myself at this man’s mercy, and now, I’m begging for his touch. I need his love. I can’t breathe without him being nearby.
And we’re finally getting to a place where he’s starting to believe this won’t be ripped out from under us.
He starts to pull back, reducing the pressure of his lips until he’s dropping pecks across my cheek and tugging on my hair to tip my head back even more, forcing me to lock my eyes with his. “You know, Beauty, I never thought The Beast could have any of this, but somehow, I’ve managed to get my happily ever after.”
I hope you enjoyed Billionaire Lumberjack’s Beauty.