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8
Beau
Iheld her to me as she cried, peppering kisses across the crown of her head. Her tears stained my shirt, but I didn’t release her. Couldn’t release her. After what I’d witnessed…
Pure terror froze my muscles when I replayed the moment that monster had slithered towards Bianaca. I’d screamed, using a voice that had barely been used in years, and pounded my fists against the glass. My knuckles were painted in blood from how hard I’d whacked at the glass and door, willing it to bend beneath my brute force. Heath had told us repeatedly that we had to let her fight this alone, but fuck that. I’d been in love with Bianaca Steal my entire life, and I couldn’t allow her to face this battle on her own.
Her tiny fists dug into my shirt as I rocked her back and forth. The disgusting goo that had sprayed across her body had dissipated like smoke the second “Dylan” had died. I didn’t know if it was an illusion or a sadistic game, but either way, I was glad she no longer bore proof of what she’d just endured.
“Shhh. Shhh,” I cooed, stroking her tangled hair.
Dylan…
White-hot rage cascaded through me at the thought of that little fucker. And with the rage came the beginnings of a memory.
I’d known about what he did to her, hadn’t I?
My mind vaguely recalled pummeling his face in with my fist. And then blistering pain in my side as a knife stabbed at me…
I tried to grasp at those memories, tried to bring them to the forefront of my mind, but they trickled away like water from a wrung out, overused sponge.
“Beau,” Bianaca whimpered, holding me tighter. Over her head, I noticed Aiden, Kace, and Tanner staring down at her with varying degrees of sadness, anger, and horror in their eyes. Even Heath’s mask had dropped, revealing a rage so predatory, I genuinely feared for Dylan’s life if he ever showed his face.
None of them went to her, though, understanding that she didn’t need their comfort. Not right then.
Bianaca always maintained an image of toughness and superiority. She acted as if nothing hurt her, as if she were above all of this shit. But I knew she hurt and bled, that she wore her pain tattooed on her heart for everyone to see. Her beauty was juxtaposed by a fragility I doubted she let many people see.
All I wanted was to hold her in my arms and take away the pain I could see plaguing her mind like a life-threatening virus. I wanted to breathe in her vanilla and honeysuckle scent. See the dimples in her cheeks when she flashed that radiant, toe-curling smile. Joke and smile with her until all of that sadness, pain, and fear diminished from her eyes.
Kelly, her men, and Maria all gave us space, though I could tell they were getting impatient. Maria kept casting furtive glances in our direction, her eyes laced with pain and something akin to betrayal.
Nothing had happened between us, and nothing would’ve happened, even if Bianaca hadn’t come to my room. Maria had knocked on my door only a few minutes earlier, and like an idiot, I’d let her inside. She’d been utterly wasted, spewing incoherent ramblings with her hair mussed and eyes glazed. She’d then begun unbuttoning her shirt, though she only got the first few undone before I stopped her. I couldn’t speak with words, so instead, I wrote on a notepad that we couldn’t do this.
And that was when Bianaca had arrived.
Bianaca, who I’d loved since I was a child.
Bianaca, whose inner light somehow chased away the shadows in my life.
Bianaca, who slayed me with one look, one flutter of her lashes.
She’d told me she loved me, and in return, I broke her heart.
Why couldn’t I have just said those words back to her? Why did I have to be such a damn coward?
My therapist had assured me time and time again that there was nothing wrong with me, that just because I chose not to speak did not make me less of a man. But fuck, I should’ve done something. Instead, my own fear nearly lost me the woman I loved more than life itself.
“Beau.” Bianaca sniffled and finally pulled her face out of my shirt, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Y-you spoke?” She phrased it as a question, though I detected a corrosive mixture of awe and suspicion in her voice. I couldn’t even blame her. I hadn’t spoken in years until only very recently, when I talked to the guys about our escape plan. Bianaca had overheard and rightfully felt betrayed. And then there was the whole incident with Maria…
Keeping my eyes locked on her, I brushed my thumb over her plush lower lip. Her tongue instinctively poked out, almost as if she wanted to lick me, before it disappeared back into her tempting mouth.
Aiden cleared his throat. “We’ll give you guys a moment.” He nodded towards Tanner and Kace, who both looked as if they wanted to argue, Tanner especially. He gave Bianaca one last unreadable look before reluctantly following the other two a short distance away, where Kelly, her men, and Maria were waiting.
“Bianaca.” My voice was raspy from disuse. To be completely honest, my throat ached fiercely, the pain reminiscent of hot coals being rubbed over my skin. I brought one hand up to my throat, while my other one remained on Bianaca’s back, holding her to me.
I didn’t know what to say to her. An apology felt so damn inconsequential, considering what she’d been through. She’d had to fight that…thatmonsteralone.
Just like she’d had to face Dylan alone time and time again.
