~Chapter 15~
B eatrice has been here for over a week and I still haven’t gone down to see her. Not since I read her letter. That damn letter.
Tears spring to my eyes as her words come back to haunt me. She loved me. But, she was going to leave me.
A notification pings on my computer, dragging me out of another vortex of pain. My stomach grumbles as I move the mouse around, barely comprehending the words on the screen. It looks like we have a new lead for the Crimson Knights. Awesome. I guess.
God, even my thoughts are morose.
Flinging my chair back, I walk out the door in search of Charlie. Before I know it, I’m smacking head-first into a guilty-looking Even. Danny’s trailing behind him with a smug look of satisfaction spread across his face.
“Uh, hey, just going to clean up.” I tilt my head, and my brow, trying to figure out why he has to clean up. Danny’s our torture tech, and Even was on Beatrice duty. Wait…
“Who’s with Bea?” I inquire, a hint of panic evident in my voice.
Danny steps forward, slapping his hand against my shoulder. “Lighten up, Stu boy. Charlie’s with her.”
I explode with fury at the thought of the one person in this house, who hates her very presence, being alone in a room with her.
“Are you insane? He’ll chew her up and spit her out!”
I’m running down the hall before giving either of them a chance to speak. As I hit the stairs, I vaguely hear Even yell out, “He’s sleeping!”
That makes no sense. Charlie seldom sleeps. Besides, if he’s with her, where is he sleeping? How?
My feet seem to hover over the floor as I jump down the last few stairs and sprint to the back of the house. Once I reach the guest room, I suddenly come to a halt at the threshold as I take in the room. I’m so damn confused that it takes me way too long to piece together what I’m seeing.
Charlie is passed smooth out on the bed Bea was sleeping in. Her navy blue weighted blanket is pressed around him as he sleeps, absolutely oblivious to the world around him.
Shit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so…so… relaxed.
Movement near the window catches my eye and I see Bea partially curled up on the chaise, watching the trees sway in the distance. The little bit of light coming in from the cloudy, November sky casts her in an almost ethereal glow.
My heart squeezes painfully, and a half whimper seeps from my chest.
Her head whips around, eyes wide like an all-seeing owl, and I notice her chest skip a few times. My gaze is riveted to hers and I suddenly forget how to think, how to breathe, how to function. Shit.
“You’re here.” There’s a hint of accusation in her voice; as if she’s noticed my purposeful absence.
Unable to take the guilt, I look over her shoulder and out the window, as a beam of sunlight strikes through the clouds.
Clearing my throat, I weakly deflect, “Was looking for Charlie. But he doesn’t sleep much so I’ll leave him be for now.”
I turn to leave, but her raspy voice inquires, “Charlie?” The questioning tone stops me in my tracks. Looking back with what I’m sure is a puzzled face, she bows her head, a light pink tinging her soft cheeks, as she picks at the hem of her nightdress. “He, um, he never told me his name. He, he was Alpha and…” She sucks in a stuttered breath before continuing. “Um, he called me Omega. It’s just,” she shrugs a shoulder bashfully.
“Nice to know his actual name?” I finish for her. Her eyes snap to mine and widen again; almost like she forgot she was talking to me.
With a subtle nod, she glances away. The little sunbeam out the window catches her eyes in just the right way and I can see a small layer of tears gathering in her eyes.
Part of me wants to rush to comfort her, and another part of me wants to turn and run so I don’t fall in love with her again. Yeah, like you ever stopped.
Everything is such a hot mess and I have no idea what to do, how to do it, or if she even wants me to do it. We went from being best friends to her being so pissed at me that she refused to talk to me, to a wild, passionate, insanely sexy night with my guys, to her almost dying.
Then…oh, and then…the goodbye letter.
“Stu,” she whispers, bringing my attention back to her. “Why, um…” She bites that ridiculously plump lower lip as she gathers her thoughts.
After at least a minute, she still hasn’t finished her thought. But, I know where she was going.
“Why haven’t I spent time with you since you’ve been here?”
She sighs heavily, resuming her attention to the little thread hanging from her nightdress. With a subtle nod, she continues to keep her gaze down.
Swallowing the lump of wool that seems to have clogged my throat, I respond. “I, uh, didn’t think you wanted to see me. We all decided to help you heal, but you were so mad, and then the night at the club… the way you looked at me…”
I angrily bat away a stray tear before shoving my hands into my hair and pulling, allowing the pain to ground me.
“Then, the letter. Bea, the letter hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced. More than you hating me, more than you not forgiving me, more than…than…anything I’ve ever experienced.” I peer at her from the corner of my eyes and see that she is completely perplexed.
Before I can go on, she tilts her head like I’ve lost my mind. “Letter? What are you talking about?”
Tears now stream freely down my cheeks. With the accident and everything else, she must have forgotten her plans. Or, at least, she doesn’t remember having sent the letter in preparation.
The sudden intake of air sounds like a shotgun blast as she gasps in realization. “The letter!” She exclaims, throwing her un-casted arm over her eyes and falling against the chaise.
“The dang letter. Oh God. Oh G-God.” Her breaths become labored and she slides to a sitting position with her feet on the ground. My breath quickens as she battles a panic attack.
Impulsively, I move forward, sliding onto the chaise next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and tugging her into me. Wrapping my other arm around her chest, I interlock my fingers and begin to sway us back and forth as sobs wrack her beautiful body. “Shhh, it’s ok, Bea. It’s ok. I’ve got you.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re lying on the chaise lounge together. She’s curled up on my chest, casted arm resting across my mid-section, and her deep, steady breaths have lulled me into a sense of peace I wasn’t sure I’d get again.
She may not have forgiven me for what happened that night at the club, yet, but she did let me arrange us more comfortably before she fell asleep in my arms.
Right where she’s supposed to be.
Charlie begins to stir, mumbling incoherently. I keep my eyes closed, inhaling the scent that is all Bea, and soaking up however long she allows me to touch her.
Eventually, I crack an eye open when I hear him grunt, cursing under his breath. Peering over Bea’s head, I see Charlie struggling to untangle himself from the weight of her blanket before oafishly landing on the ground with a loud “Oomph”.
I try to suppress my laugh, but it comes out anyway. Although, it ends up being more of a chortle instead of a laugh. His eyes glare at me from the floor, then land on Bea’s sleeping form. His glare recedes slightly before he runs his eyes over her body as if he’s checking for more scratches or something.
With a grunt, he pulls himself up, petulantly kicking the blanket away, before standing to his full height. Locking eyes with mine, I see the questions, the concern, swirling through his. With, what I hope is, an assuring smile, I dip my chin toward Bea.
He seems reluctant as he nods in return, but doesn’t press. “Oh, I have a new target for the Knights. Um,” I look down at Bea, softly snoring into my neck and bit my cheek.
“It’s fine. Come find me when she wakes up. Doc is coming by later to check on her and give her a PT plan.”
My eyes widen, knowing how much she is going to hate that. But Charlie just chuckles before slinking out into the hallway.
Releasing a deep breath through my nose, I close my eyes and allow myself to have this moment with her.
God only knows how long it’s going to last.