5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Beau
Molly's green eyes are wide, mouth slightly open as she processes what Sienna just dropped between us.
Callahan. As in Riley Callahan. As in... my nightmare of a brother.
"Wait," Molly says, her voice barely audible over Maisie's excited chatter about treehouses and rope swings. "You're that Beau? Riley's brother?"
I clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Surprise?"
Her eyes narrow, scanning my face with a new intensity, as if trying to map the features of the skinny, scowling teenager I was onto the man standing before her.
I fight the urge to turn away, to hide the scars, the years of pain, the fucking weight of everything that's happened since she last saw me.
"I can't believe I didn't—" She shakes her head, a small laugh escaping. "I mean, you're so..."
Different. Damaged. Dangerous.
"Tall!" Maisie supplies helpfully, yanking on my jeans. "He's a GIANT, Aunt Molly! And he promised to fix my treehouse! You said next time, remember? Is this next time? IS IT NOW?"
I glance down at the kid, grateful for the interruption. "Not now, squirt. There's a blizzard."
"But you PROMISED!"
Dammit. She's not letting this go, literally or figuratively.
"Jesus—" I grab my waistband as Maisie tugs relentlessly, my jeans slipping dangerously low. The kid's stronger than she looks. "Ease up, kiddo. You're about to pants me in front of your aunt."
Sienna leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, a knowing smirk playing at her lips as she watches this awkward reunion unfold. "Well, isn't this quite the coincidence."
Her playful tone makes it clear she thinks it's anything but.
"It's not what you think," I mutter, trying to pry Maisie's fingers from my jeans without breaking her tiny hand.
"Oh? And what exactly am I thinking, Beau Callahan?" Sienna's eyebrows rise in innocence.
"That I should go." I take a step back, or try to, but Maisie is still attached to me like she's a baby koala that's been superglued to my leg. "Got things to... build."
Molly's still staring at me, and there's something in her expression that twists my gut. A flash of recognition, but also something I never saw when she was with Riley. She has a new spark of strength, of wariness.
Which is good. She should be wary of any man with Callahan blood.
Molly steps closer, eyes studying me like I'm a puzzle she can't quite solve. I swallow hard, trapped between her gaze and memories of this woman that I can't outrun.
"You fixed my bike," she says suddenly. "That summer before senior year. The chain fell off, and you fixed it without saying a word."
She remembers that?
I remember it like it was yesterday. Her sitting on the curb outside our house, fighting tears over something Riley had said, the broken bike just another thing gone wrong in her day.
I hadn't said anything because I couldn't trust what might come out if I opened my mouth around her. Molly always had that effect on me, but I was always the weird older brother. That guy who was there, but not really there at all.
"Don't remember," I lie, looking away.
"Well," Sienna announces with maternal authority, "since you've both somehow ended up on my doorstep in the middle of the storm of the century, you might as well come inside. Maisie, let go of Mr. Callahan's leg before you cut off his circulation."
"I really should—"
"I insist," Sienna says with steel in her voice. "I've got hot chocolate and a child who will literally follow you into the blizzard if you leave now. Get inside."
Maisie nods vigorously, finally releasing my leg only to grab my hand with sticky fingers. "Hot chocolate with MARSHMALLOWS !"
" Lead the way, kid," I grunt, letting Molly step in front of me.
Stepping into Sienna's house feels like walking into another dimension.
Warm lighting spills from vintage brass lamps, lighting up family photos that line every available surface.
She has handmade quilts in a range of colors draped over furniture that looks like it's been hugged into submission over years of movie nights and Sunday afternoon naps.
Everything about this place screams home in a way that my cabin on the mountain doesn't.
I stand awkwardly in the entryway, too big for this space, too rough for these soft surroundings. Snow melts off my boots onto the welcome mat and I've never felt so out of place.
"Boots off," Maisie commands, already yanking at her own.
I comply without thinking, feeling strangely vulnerable in just my socks. Like I'm removing armor. Taking away the one thing that guarantees a quick escape.
"Come see my treehouse plans!" Maisie grabs my hand again and pulls me toward a small table covered in crayon drawings. "I want a rope swing and a secret trapdoor… and Mom said I can design my very own flag!"
I let myself be dragged along, grateful for the distraction.
Behind me, I hear Sienna's soft voice, speaking in whispers to Molly.
"So... want to explain what the hell is going on? You and Beau Callahan? That's unexpected."
"It's not—we're not—" Molly sputters. "I left him. I've been driving for two weeks, not knowing where to go. I ended up here just as my car broke down and he helped. That's all."
"Mmhmm," Sienna hums, not believing a word. "Just happened to break down, huh?"
A mug appears in my peripheral vision, and I look up to find Sienna holding out a steaming cup of hot chocolate, still looking at her sister. "Don't even try to refuse, Beau. Everyone drinks hot chocolate in this house. It's the law."
"Um…" I take it grudgingly, impressed that she can talk to me while death staring Molly at the exact same time. My hand dwarf the mug with painted snowmen on the side. "Thanks."
I can't remember the last time someone made me a hot drink I didn't pay for. The first sip is a shock. It's rich and sweet and good in a way I rarely allow myself to experience up in my own cabin.
"So," Sienna says, settling on the couch across from where Maisie has me trapped. "How long have you two known each other? And why have I never known about this connection?"
Molly perches on the edge of an armchair, cradling her own mug. "Well, technically since high school, but we weren't—I mean, I was with..." She trails off, glancing at me.
"Riley," I supply, the name coming laced with one too many emotions.
"Yeah." Her fingers twist around the mug handle. "God, I can't believe I didn't recognize you."
"I didn't recognize you either," I lie again, because the truth is that I'd know her anywhere, in any crowd, at any distance.
And that's not something I'm willing to admit.
Not to her. Not to anyone.
Maisie tugs at my sleeve. "Is Riley your brother? Is he nice like you?"
The innocent question lands like a grenade in the middle of the room. Molly's face pales slightly. Sienna shoots me a warning look.
"Um, well… My brother and I are very different people," I say carefully. "And I'm not nice."
"You ARE!" Maisie insists, giggling like I just made the best joke ever. "You picked me up when I fell at the playground! And you're gonna build my treehouse!"
I shift uncomfortably under Molly's curious gaze.
"I know I did, kid. But sometimes grown-ups need to be alone in the woods... with their thoughts... and axes..."
Sienna snorts into her hot chocolate. " Wow . So eloquent, Beau."
"Mom says you live all alone in a cabin on the mountain," Maisie continues, oblivious to my discomfort. "Don't you get scared? I would get scared up there. Dad says I can't walk up there by myself because there are bears in caves."
"Maisie, honey, not everyone—" Molly starts.
"I don't get scared," I interrupt, meeting Maisie's wide-eyed stare. "And sometimes being alone is safer. For everyone."
"That sounds sad," Maisie says with the brutal honesty only children possess.
I take another sip of hot chocolate to avoid responding, and when I glance up, Molly's watching me. Not with pity, but with something worse. Understanding.
"So, Molly," Sienna says, clearly changing the subject, "you still haven't told me what brought you here. Not that I'm not thrilled to see you. It's just… unexpected."
Molly's fingers tighten around her mug. "It's a long story."
"It usually is when you leave everything behind," I mutter, thinking of my own escape to Stone River Mountain.
After my early discharge from the service, I spent weeks just driving.
No destination. No purpose.
Mountains blurring into plains into cities I never bothered to name. I'd never felt so goddamn lost before. Not even when we were pinned down in that valley in the scorching hot Middle Eastern desert for three fucking days straight.
At least then I had orders. A mission.
But civilian life? Nothing but empty road and the haunting ghosts of my fallen comrades riding shotgun beside me.
I watch as Molly explains to Sienna about leaving Riley, about the car breaking down, about throwing her phone out the window in a fit of liberation. I catch myself staring at her lips as she speaks, at the way her hands move expressively, at the small scar on her temple that wasn't there before.
What the fuck did he do to you?
"—and then Beau found me at the café," she's saying, and the sound of my name in her mouth does something strange to my insides.
"Well, thank God for that," Sienna says, smiling at me with genuine warmth. "You've always had perfect timing, Beau."
I grunt in response, reaching for anything to change the subject. My fingers brush against Molly's as we both reach for the plate of cookies Sienna has set out. The brief contact sends an electric jolt up my arm, and I jerk back like I've been burned.
Molly's cheeks flush pink. Goddamn, she's adorable.
"Sorry," she murmurs.
Maisie, who has been unusually quiet for approximately forty-five seconds, pipes up with the observation that sends my heart into my throat.
"You look at her like Daddy looks at Mommy!" Maisie says.
I choke on my hot chocolate, scalding liquid burning down my throat. Molly's eyes widen in alarm.
"Maisie!" Sienna hisses, but there's laughter and amusement in her voice.
"What?" Maisie looks confused. "It's true! He gets all squinty and his mouth goes all tight. See! Like that. Like he's trying not to smile!"
"I think it's time for me to go," I announce, setting down the mug so hard that hot chocolate sloshes over the edge. "Storm's letting up. Roads will be clearing."
"But you just got here!" Maisie wails dramatically.
I shove my feet back into my boots, desperate to escape. Quickly.
"I'll come back for the treehouse. When it's not... snowing."
Sienna doesn't even try to hide her amusement. "Sure, Beau. Run away. That's very manly of you."
She tilts her mug up like some kind of toast. I shoot her a glare that would make most people tremble but she just grins wider, like she's seeing something that I'm trying too fucking hard to ignore right now.
I'm halfway down the porch steps when the door creaks open behind me.
"Beau, wait."
Molly steps out, arms crossing tight over her chest against the cold. The movement pushes her breasts higher beneath her sweater, and my eyes catch there before I can stop them.
I jerk my gaze up to her face, hoping she didn't notice.
"You don't have to leave because of what Maisie said."
The wind whips strands of honey-blonde hair across her face. My fingers twitch with the insane urge to brush them away.
"Or because of… you know. Me. "
"It's not that," I lie. "Got work to finish."
She shivers, and I resist the overwhelming impulse to wrap her in my jacket and hold her close to my chest so she stops shivering.
"Okay then. Thank you again," Molly says softly. "For everything."
I nod once, not trusting myself to speak, and continue towards my truck.
"And Beau?" Molly calls after me and I curse under my breath.
"What?"
"I'm glad it was you. Who found me, I mean."
Dead God, woman. What are you doing to me?
I don't respond, just pull the door shut behind me as the truck roars to life, and I grip the steering wheel like it's the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
I back out of the driveway too fast, tires spinning on the fresh snow.
"She's not your problem, Callahan," I mutter to myself, pushing the truck harder than I should as I navigate the winding roads back toward my cabin, choosing not to look back. "Not your fight. Not your girl."
But her voice echoes in my head: I'm glad it was you.
What the hell does that even mean?
She barely remembers me. It took her that fucking long to realize it was me. And even then, if Sienna didn't slip up, would she have noticed?
Not once did she click that I'm the awkward, angry kid who once orbited the periphery of her relationship with Riley. The one who watched from a distance as my brother slowly crushed the light out of her eyes.
I'm not that kid anymore. I'm harder. Darker. Broken in ways that can't be fixed.
And I should do everything within my power to stay away from such a precious gift to this Earth.
I speed too fast in this weather, but soon, my cabin comes into view through the trees and something in my chest loosens at the sight.
This is my fortress. My sanctuary. My self-imposed exile from everything that reminds me of what I've lost.
I park in my usual spot and kill the engine, letting the silence settle around me as I take some deep breaths.
Her scent lingers in the truck. Sweet, sweet vanilla.
"Fuck," I growl, hating how each sharp intake of breath makes my heart flutter with a tiny ray of hope.
I roll down the window, needing to clear my head. Needing to clear any trace of that woman from my life.
Then, as I reach for the door handle to escape inside, something catches my eye. A glint of metal in the center console.
Keys . Molly's fucking keys.
"Goddammit," I growl, snatching them up, letting them dangle from one finger. Then a moment later, another realization hits me. Her suitcase is still in the back of my truck.
"Perfect. Just fucking perfect."
I slam my palm against the steering wheel, hard enough to sting.
Because now I have to go back. I have to see her again. I have to face whatever this... thing is that makes my heart race and my palms sweat like I'm some teenager instead of a grown man with enough blood on his hands to drown in.
The keys sit innocuously in my palm, right next to where I'd hastily shoved my Purple Heart back under the console. The medal I got for diving on top of a wounded comrade when the explosive hit, shielding him with my body while shrapnel tore into my shoulder instead of his heart.
The medal I keep hidden because three others in my unit still died that day, and heroism feels like a fucking lie when you couldn't save everyone.
Just like I couldn't save Molly from Riley back then.
Inside my head, past and present collide in the worst possible way, reminding me why people like her should stay far away from broken men like me.
Because we don't protect… we destroy.
And Molly Jennings has been through enough destruction.