Chapter 27 – Beau
BEAU
H e hits my jaw first. It’s not a clean hit, his knuckles sliding over the hard bone instead of landing hard. His fist slams into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me and sending me stumbling backward. I knock back against a chair, almost tripping and plummeting to the ground.
The seconds it takes me to catch myself gives Luke the chance to pummel my mouth and chest. I hold up my arms to block him, but he’s got momentum, and he breaks right through my pitiful attempt at stopping him.
It’s what I deserve.
I’ve got a few inches and a good fifteen pounds of muscle on Luke, and I could knock him out if I really wanted to. I don’t. I’ve been waiting for this fight for five years. Part of me even feels relieved that it’s finally happening.
Then Luke’s fist pounds against my lower lip and all I feel is pain. Salty blood fills my mouth, and adrenaline makes my vision narrow in on the threat. I take a swing, not trying to hit Luke, but to force him back so I can have a fucking second to breathe.
“You motherfucker,” Luke growls, right before he starts swinging again. He’s got plenty to be pissed about, and I can practically feel the rage vibrating through every hit, my sins written out in punches.
The hit to my mouth is for the viral Peppermint post that humiliated him and cost him his Air Canada deal.
The hit to my chest is for lying to him for years.
The hit to my nose is for screwing his sister.
The knee to my stomach is for the humiliation of being the last to know.
I’m sure all the implicit lies are flashing through his head, just like they are through mine.
Every poker night, every trip to Terrace, every time I clapped him on the back and asked how he was doing—all of it was a lie.
Luke trusted me more than anyone, and the whole time I was sneaking around with his little sister and covering for the anonymous blogger who was trashing their lives.
Blows rain down on me. The pain fades with every blow, like I’m sinking into a pit of tar, crushing and suffocating, but soft in its own way. The world fades away until it’s just me, Luke and the pain.
I swing at Luke again, just to get a break, but my sense of balance is fucked and my feet go out from under me. I fall back on the carpeted floor, my head hitting it with a soft thud.
Luke’s on top of me in seconds. He pulls back his fist to strike, then it goes back and back and back.
My blurred vision takes a second to realize that Nate’s pulling Luke back, yanking him out of the fight.
Ryan grabs me under the arms and drags me to my feet.
He grabs me by the arms to hold me back, but I’m not thrashing like Luke.
I’ve got no fight left in me, not that I had much to begin with.
Through the whole fight, James hasn’t moved. He’s just standing by the table, hands in his pockets, watching with an expression that I can’t read.
My chest heaves as my body scrambles to get me oxygen.
My arms and legs are shaky from exertion and adrenaline subsiding, and the pain in my lip roars back to life.
I touch my mouth tenderly, hissing when I hit the wound.
My lip is split, blood dripping down my chin.
I sweep a tongue over my teeth, breathing a sigh of relief that they’re all there.
Across the room, Luke pulls out of Nate’s grasp as he takes stock of his own injuries. His knuckles are bloody, and I have no idea if it’s my blood or his. His face is pristine, unmarred by the fight, but his eyes churn with wrath.
“You filthy fucking traitor,” he spits. “Did you get off on it, keeping secrets from me when you knew how deeply I trusted you? Did it make you feel like a big man, holding that over me?”
“No,” I say, sending stinging pain through my lip.
“You were supposed to be the one person who would never lie to me!” he roars. “My best fucking friend! You’re my brother . She’s my sister . And you’ve been—for how long, Beau? How long have you been fucking my sister behind my back?”
I brace myself. “Five years.”
Ryan gasps behind me. Nate covers his mouth while Luke’s falls open with shock.
It’s like I can see into his brain as he does the math.
All the shared memories that happened over the past few years.
Every holiday, every poker night, every moment of their friendship.
I didn’t just betray him once. Betrayal bore the load of our relationship for years.
“You knew,” Luke mutters. “You knew it was Brinley destroying their reputations to the entire fucking world.”
No use hiding it. “I did. Not until a few months ago, but yeah. I knew.”
He sneers. “So you protected her instead of protecting us. Instead of protecting me. Your own best friend.”
“I was going to tell you tonight,” I tell him. My voice comes out too high, sounding desperate even to me. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go.”
“Yeah? How did you think it would go?” he snaps. “You thought I’d give you a hug and welcome you into the family after I found out you’ve been screwing Brinley?”
I swallow. “It wasn’t like that with her. It was more than that?—”
“Don’t.” Luke’s voice thunders through the room. “Don’t go there. I don’t want to fucking hear it, Beau.”
I shake my head. He has to let me tell him that Brinley wasn’t some quick fuck to me. He has to know that I love her, like I’ve never loved anyone. “Please, just let me?—”
“Get out.” Luke throws the words at me as he turns and stalks toward the bar. He pours himself a shot of whiskey and downs it. Then he throws the shot glass at the ground. It doesn’t break, but rolls awkwardly away across the carpet.
I look around the room. Ryan won’t meet my eyes. Nate looks sick, his face a greenish color. James is still watching me, his face unreadable, and I realize that James knew this was coming. Maybe not tonight. But he knew.
I hang my head. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this. I’ve been cast out, ejected from the family.
Nobody speaks as I stumble to the elevator and press the button. I watch them, waiting futilely for any hint of softness or forgiveness. Of course, none comes.
As the elevator doors slide shut, I catch my reflection and finally see the full extent of the damage. The split lip, the blood on my collar and drying on my chin. The wan, broken face of a man who just lost the only family he ever chose. I press my back against the elevator wall and close my eyes.
I’m alone. The end came, just like I always knew it would.
As bad as it is for me, it’s about to be worse for Brinley.
The guys know she’s Peppermint. So does Nate’s PI, and countless other people who helped with the investigation.
It won’t be long before news leaks somehow.
Do we have hours, days, weeks before Peppermint’s real name is circulating through every social circle in Toronto?
How long before it reaches Brinley’s landlord, her customers, the women she calls her friends?
The elevator opens to my apartment. As soon as the doors slide shut, I dial her number. I pace across the living room as it rings.
“Please, pick up,” I mutter. Of course, it goes to voicemail. She’s ignoring me, maybe ignoring everyone. While the truth literally punches me in the face, she’s still praying it will go away if she ignores it—and me. I have to warn her about the storm that’s coming for her. I try texting her.
Beau
Pick up.
She doesn’t answer that text, or any of the others. So I call her again and again and again. My hands shake hard enough that I practically drop the phone. On the sixth try, I finally give up and leave her a voicemail.
“Hey, Brin, it’s me. The guys know about us.
About Peppermint. All of it. It’s not good, Brin, and I don’t know how long they’ll keep it to themselves.
” I turn, pacing the other direction. “So call me, please. I know you don’t want me there, so I’ll leave you alone for now and let you sleep.
But I’ll be there first thing in the morning.
Just—don’t shut me out, okay?” I pause before dropping the words again, but frankly, fuck it.
I’ve said them already. Might as well force them on her one more time.
“I love you.”