Page 11 of Finding Beau


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“Cheers, Beau. I know it’s not against any rules or anything, but….” He trailed off. He didn’t need to say anything anymore. I knew Bernie would hate it.

I nodded, showing him I understood, but felt it fair to warn them. “I’ll leave you to it but be careful. Bernie’s up and about now. I’ve just left him in his office.”

And there it was again. That pitying look I hated seeing on people’s faces. I knew I was fucking stupid for letting him do it, but that look...

I turned back to my locker, pulling out my backpack and coat. I slammed the door shut, spinning the combination. I didn’t need fucking pity. I just needed someone to understand, to see why I couldn’t stop, why I had to let him carry on.

The good mood I’d been in, thinking about Kwan and seeing Kenny and Ty together, evaporated like rain on a sunny day.

“Beau.” Kenny’s voice cut through the mist of my anger, and I spun around, tears in my eyes. Why? Just why did this get to me so much? I repeated the words that were quickly becoming my mantra.

I need to be strong. I should be strong.

“Save it, Kenny.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t need to see the looks on their faces. I just wanted to go home. This deep anger I felt wasn’t directed at them but at me and my inability to say no.

“Just. I don’t know, Beau. Just know we’re both here for you. Me and Ty, and if Bernie ever tries anything with you—”

I snorted out a laugh. Bit fucking late for that. We’d already gone way past him trying anything with me. That ship had sailed a long fucking time ago.

I shook my head and, getting my keys out of my pocket, left the staff room.

I needed to get my life together and get out of this shithole.

I left the club, finding my bike around the side as usual and unchained it, starting the fifteen-minute ride home. Five minutes into the journey, the heavens opened, and by the time I reached home, I was soaked to the skin, my thin jacket offering no protection against the downpour.

With the exception of meeting Kwan, tonight had been a shitshow. From Bernie’s humiliating tirade behind the bar to his sexual advances and now the rain, I’d just about had enough.

I walked the two flights of stairs to the flat, having left the bike downstairs in the small lock-up area. It was eerily silent, and as I approached the door, I found it wide open with no sign of anyone inside.

What the fuck?

I stepped through the door and stood open-mouthed, looking at the mess inside. The place had been ransacked. Drawers pulled out, sofa cushions strewn across the floor, clothes everywhere. I looked at where we kept the CD player, but it was gone.

Could this day get any worse? I didn’t know what to do, so I shut the door, throwing the chain across. Whoever had been in wasn’t getting in again, that was for sure. I started picking up our few belongings, treading on broken glass and crockery, cereal boxes upended, their contents scattered across the carpet. Who the hell would do this? Why would they do it?

This was just another thing in my already overflowing life. The stress of everything was starting to get to me. Bernie, the job, Megan, little to no money and now this. How would we afford to replace all this stuff? The money I got from working at the club was a pittance. It covered the bills and food, but there was rarely anything left for luxuries. At least the tip money I made helped, but it’d take a while to save enough. I was so angry.

A thought hit me, and I ran to my bedroom, seeing the same mess in there as the rest of the flat. When Mum died, I’d inherited some of her jewellery, and I’d been keeping it safe, not wanting to sell or pawn it. It held far too much sentimental value for me to get rid of it. I kept it in the bottom of my wardrobe, under a loose board, in a little blue velvet box, but as I rounded the bed, I could see all my belongings littered across the floor, the board thrown to the side. I dropped to my knees, delving into the empty space, knowing I would find nothing there. I rummaged around, frantically searching and searching but coming up empty-handed.

It was gone. I picked up the board, throwing it across the room, and heard a thud as it hit the wall.

The last reminder I had of her was gone forever. How did they know where to look? Was it just luck on their part? I sat back on my heels, scrubbing my face with my hands, scratching against the scruff on my face.

But of course, I knew the answer. Knew who’d taken it or had told them where to find it. If I ever got my hands on my sister, I’d… Well, at this point, there was no telling what I’d do. For the past goodness knows how many years, I’d protected her, looked after her, given myself to Bernie to protect her and for what? For her to take what was mine. The only thing I had left to remind me of our mother. I thought I’d hidden it well this time. She’d stolen from me before. It was par for the course with an addict, and I’d learned to hide any spare money we had, but this, this was the final straw.

I was done. Done with her, done with the club and certainly done with Bernie. It was about time I started doing something for myself. It was about time I started finding Beau.

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