Chapter 38 Beck
Beck
Cassie’s pacing the kitchen when I walk in, and the smell of burnt coffee hits me before the sight of her does. She only makes coffee that strong when she’s worried or ready for a fight.
“Where the hell have you been?” she snaps without looking at me. “I’ve been blowing up your phone.”
I lean against the counter, arms crossed, calm on the outside even though my pulse is a damn freight train. “Had things to handle.”
She slams the mug down so hard that coffee sloshes over the rim. “Things like Lo? Don’t bother denying it… I know you’ve been with her. Despite everything we talked about.”
My jaw tightens because yeah, she’s not wrong. And I’m done lying about it. Done pretending what’s between me and Lo is something I can ignore.
“I have,” I say.
Cassie freezes. Turns. Her eyes are sharp, green as glass. “Beck—”
“Don’t,” I cut in, stepping forward. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. Because I’m not asking for your permission, Cass. I’m telling you how it’s gonna be.”
Her mouth opens, shuts. She wasn’t ready for that. Good.
“I care about her,” I go on, each word heavy as lead.
“More than I’ve cared about anything or anyone in a long damn time.
And before you say she’s fragile, or broken, or whatever else you’ve been telling yourself…
stop. She’s strong. Stronger than either of us gave her credit for.
And yeah, she’s been through hell, but I’m not leaving her to climb out of it alone. ”
Cassie swallows hard, arms folding. She needs the barrier. “Beck… this is crazy. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
I laugh. It’s sharp, humorless. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Cass.
I know the town thinks of her one way, but I know her.
I know how she hates silence because it reminds her of hiding.
I know how she pretends she’s fine even when she’s coming apart inside.
I know how she curls her fists when she’s trying not to cry, because tears are weakness to her.
And I know that every second I’m not near her feels wrong in my bones. ”
Cassie just stares. I can see the fight bleeding out of her.
“This isn’t just about you wanting her,” she says finally. “This is about her being safe.”
“Damn right it is.” My voice is steel. “And she’s safest with me. With my pack.”
Cassie exhales, long and shaky, rubbing her temples, fighting a headache. “And what about her family?”
I take another step toward her, close enough that she has to tip her head back to look at me. “Let them talk. I don’t give a damn what anyone in this town thinks. Lo’s mine. And if that makes me the villain in some gossip story, so be it.”
For a long time, the only sound is the ticking clock and the faint hum of the fridge. Then Cassie sinks into a chair, staring at the wood grain of the floor, waiting for answers.
“You love her,” she says quietly.
It’s not a question.
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”
Her throat works, and when she finally looks up, there’s something softer in her eyes. Resignation, maybe. Or understanding she didn’t want to reach, but couldn’t stop herself from getting to.
“You’ll take care of her?” she asks.
“Better than anyone else ever could.”
“And she’ll take care of you?”
“Oh, hell yeah. She takes the best care of me, Cass.”
She nods slowly. “Then… I guess I don’t have a reason to fight you.”
Relief crashes through me so hard it’s almost dizzying, but I don’t let it show. Not yet.
“Good,” I say quietly, a long breath easing out of me. Then, because I can’t put it off any longer, I add, “One more thing… I’m moving out.”
Cassie’s head jerks up. “What?”
“You heard me. This house is yours and Rosie’s now. I always wanted to give it to you eventually. And now, with Lo, I want a home. With my pack.”
Cassie stares at me, her lips pressed tight. For a second, I think she’s going to argue, but then her shoulders slump a little, and she sinks into the chair. The fight drains out of her.
“When?” she asks finally.
I swallow, throat tight. “Soon. I’ve already been looking at places. Somewhere close, so I can still come by and see you both all the time.”
Her eyes glisten, and that gets me right in the gut.
“Beck…” She shakes her head, half smiling, trying not to cry. “It’s going to feel so empty without you.”
I crouch down so I’m eye level with her and take her hand in mine. “I will always be here for you and Rosie. You know that.”
Then she lets out this shaky little laugh, watery and rough. “You always were the glue, you know that? The one holding us together after everything happened.”
I feel that in my chest, sharp and deep. “You don’t need me to hold you together anymore, Cass. You’re stronger than you think.”
She shakes her head, and then she just… folds into me. One second, she’s sitting there, blinking back tears, and the next she’s in my arms, clutching me like she’s still a child and I’m the only thing keeping her from drowning.
“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers into my shirt.
I hold her tighter, bury my face in her hair, because hell if I’m letting her see what this is doing to me. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? I’ll be here whenever you need me. Always.”
She pulls back enough to look at me, her eyes shining. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Her mouth trembles, but she manages a smile. A real one this time, soft and sad and proud all at once.
“Go make her happy, Beck.”
I stand, squeezing her hand one last time before I let go. “That’s the plan.”
And when I walk out that door, keys in hand, I hold my head up high.
This is the start of something new for sure.
I sit in the truck for a long second after pulling the door shut, just breathing. The night air is cool against my face, but inside, everything feels hot and restless. My blood’s running faster than the engine.
This is it. The decision’s alive in me now. Loud, fierce, and impossible to ignore.
I fire up the engine and pull out of Cassie’s driveway, tires crunching over the gravel. The streets of Honeysuckle Grove slide past in a blur of porch lights and old oak trees, and for the first time in years, I’m not thinking about going home.
I’m thinking about building one.
As I hit the stretch of road that runs along the river, the air changes.
Fresher, cleaner, filled with pine and damp earth.
Out here, the town feels far away. A different world entirely.
This side of Honeysuckle Grove has always spelled freedom to me.
The long winding roads, the open fields that roll out like green oceans in summer, and the woods that hold their secrets close.
I used to drive out here on bad nights, back when nothing made sense and I needed space to breathe. I’d park by the water, stare at the reflection of the moon, and wonder if I’d ever find something that was mine.
And now I have.
The headlights carve a path through the dark as I take the last turn.
The gravel road crunches under my tires, the house rising slowly out of the trees as if it’s been waiting for me.
White siding, wide wraparound porch, tall windows glowing faintly under the porch light.
It looks big. Strong. It could hold everything I want to give Lo.
And everything Ford and Hayes need, too.
My chest tightens. This isn’t just about her anymore. It’s about all of us. The pack we’ve built, the family we didn’t expect to find but can’t live without. And I’ll be damned if I let the world tear that apart before it even has a chance to begin.
I pull the truck to a stop and kill the engine. For a second, I just sit there, staring. Letting it sink in.
I pull my phone out and scroll until Ford’s name flashes on the screen. It only rings once.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“You and Hayes free?”
There’s a beat of silence. “Yeah, what for?”
“Because I need you both to meet me,” I say, and then I give him the address.
Ford whistles low. “That’s out past the river. Beck, what the hell are you—”
“Just get here,” I say, my tone sharp enough to slice through any more questions. “And bring Hayes.”
I hang up and stare at the house in front of me. The place was built to hold something bigger than one person. Bigger than just a couple, even.
It looks like home.
Our home.
The crunch of tires on gravel cuts through the quiet a little while later, and beams of headlights sweep across the trees. My pulse kicks up. This is it.
Ford’s truck pulls up, Hayes riding shotgun. The door slams, and Ford’s voice carries across the night before his boots even hit the porch steps.
“Beck, what the hell is this?”
Hayes hangs back a few feet, eyes flicking from me to the house, waiting for the punchline.
I take a breath and step down off the porch, boots hitting the gravel with a thud. “It’s what I called you here for.”
Ford looks around, eyebrows raised.
“You buying a murder house or something? ’Cause that’s the only reason a place this big would be sitting out here empty.”
“Funny,” I deadpan, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets. “No ghosts. No crime scenes. Just… a house.”
Hayes tilts his head. “A big house.”
“Yeah,” I say, eyes lifting to the wide porch, the tall windows glowing under the security light. “Big enough for all of us.”
Ford’s laughter bursts out sharply with a twinge of disbelief. “All of us? Beck, what are you even saying right now?”
“I’m saying…” I meet his stare dead-on, letting the weight of it land. “I want to buy it. For the pack.”
That shuts him up. For a second, anyway.
Hayes blinks. “Wait. You mean… us living here? Together?”
“Exactly.”
Ford scrubs a hand over his jaw, staring at me. “Beck, this is—”
“Not crazy,” I cut in. “Look, we’ve been drifting for so long. We deserve better. Lo deserves better.”
Hayes’s eyes soften just a little at that, but he still looks stunned. “You’re serious about this.”
I nod. “Dead serious.”
Ford lets out a low whistle, hands on his hips. “You realize how much this thing’s gonna cost, right? Even you can’t—”
“I can,” I say firmly. “I’ve been saving for years, waiting for something worth putting it toward. And this? This is it.”
Silence stretches. Then Hayes takes a slow breath and says, “Why now?”
I don’t hesitate. “Because it’s time. Time to stop acting like a pack that doesn’t know where it belongs. Time to build something that lasts. For us. For her. For the family we chose to make together.”
Ford’s gaze flicks to the house again, then back to me. “You really think this place could be that?”
“I don’t think,” I insist. “I know.”
Hayes’s lips twitch, trying not to smile. “Well, damn. Guess you’ve already made up your mind.”
“Pretty much,” I admit.
Ford shakes his head, but there’s a glint in his eye now. “Hell, Beck… when you do something, you don’t half-ass it, do you?”
I smirk. “Not in my nature.”
The three of us stand there for a moment, staring at the house. I can already see it. Our voices filling the rooms, Lo laughing in the kitchen, maybe a few dogs sleeping by the fire because we’ve always got room for more. It feels right. It’s the future.
Finally, Ford huffs out a laugh and claps me on the shoulder. “Screw it. Let’s do it.”
Hayes grins, quick and sharp. “Guess we’re about to be homeowners.”
I look at both of them, the weight in my chest easing. “No,” I correct, letting the words settle in the night air. “We’re about to be home.”