59. Beau
59
BEAU
one week later
I watch with amusement as Margot huffs and puffs, hauling another box up the stairs to the third floor of my house. Well, our house now.
“I still can’t believe neither one of you won,” she grumbles as she passes by.
Eloise just laughs, shooting me a playful wink. “Well, I’m just happy Beau’s okay.”
“As if he’d leave you so easily. Give me a break,” Margot calls back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I can practically hear her eyes rolling.
“She’s so dramatic,” Viv murmurs from her perch on the couch next to me.
I shrug my one shoulder, my other one still trapped in a sling. “She’s not wrong. I’d drag myself from hell to come back just to be around your sister.”
Viv’s eyebrows raise before they plummet between her eyes. “Okay,” she says, dragging the word out like she’s embarrassed for me.
Living with a thirteen-year-old girl is going to take a little getting used to. But I’d do it and more just to see my girl happy. And she is.
It's been a wild week, to say the least. After the chaos and terror of that night in Black Hollow, everything else has felt like a whirlwind of change and new beginnings.
The first thing I did when I got out of the hospital was tell Peach I severed her ties to Seven Pines. I expected resistance, expected her to argue that she didn’t need a man coming in to rescue her. But to my surprise and relief, she just looked at me with those golden whiskey eyes, exhausted but determined, and said, “Yeah, I’m done.”
It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders in that moment. Like she could finally breathe again after years of struggling against the current.
When I suggested they should move in with me, Margot had whooped and started packing immediately. And once Peach nodded, Viv got excited too.
Graham had entirely too much fun burning down Seven Pines from the inside—after he got Peach her money first, of course. The thing about crews is that they’re built on a pyramid of loyalty. All it takes is for a couple of carefully placed bricks to crumble, and then it all tumbles to the ground.
Luckily for me, my brother is an expert Jenga player.
Next on the list was Darla. In an envelope, in the middle of the island, are the official custody papers for Vivienne. We were able to pull a few strings and get the whole thing expedited, and our lawyer has been more than accommodating. That probably has more to do with the large retainer we gave him.
Peach carries a box into the kitchen, placing it on the counter.
“If you just wait a few more days, I can help you, baby.”
She grins, skipping down the stairs to the garage for her fourth trip. “Not a chance. You’ve got a punctured lung. You’re not doing shit for weeks.”
“It’s a minor puncture. Minor . Doctor said I’d be right as rain in a couple weeks,” I counter, pitching my voice louder.
“I love you, but bullshit,” she calls over her shoulder as she skips back downstairs.
“God, I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” I say with a happy little hum.
“Gross,” Viv grumbles.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Viv. Loving your sister is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say, my voice softening. “And I plan on telling her that every single day for the rest of our lives.”
Viv’s nose wrinkles, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Still gross. But I guess it’s kind of sweet too. I’m glad Louie is happy.” She shrugs, trying to play it cool, but I can see the genuine affection shining in her eyes.
Peach bounds back up the stairs, her peachy-blonde hair bouncing with each step. Flushed cheeks from exertion, a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow, her whiskey eyes are bright and alive with joy. She’s never looked more beautiful to me.
I push myself up from the couch, ignoring the dull ache in my ribs. “Viv, look away for a sec, yeah?”
Viv groans dramatically, but obediently covers her face with her hands. “Hurry up before I’m scarred for life.”
“C’mere for a sec, baby.” I reach out my hand for her.
She drops a small box on the coffee table and slides her hand into mine. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Need something?”
“Yeah, baby, I do.” I pull her in close, my uninjured arm wrapping around her waist. Her body molds to mine like we were made for each other, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. I brush a stray curl from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that still surprises me sometimes.
“I need you,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with emotion. “Forever.”