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“If you don’t let me go, Iwillbe ending it,” I warned him. And I couldn’t even feel an ounce of regret or pain through what I was already dealing with.
He gripped my other arm. “Do it,” he dared me, pain and anger lacing his words. “Fucking do it, Mikayla.”
“Fuck you!” I yelled at him. Because even when I was hurting like this, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. I knew that much. Ineededhim, but I needed to be by myself more. “Let me go, you fucking asshole!”
He gently shook me. “What the fuck is going on?!” he shouted at me.
“I just want space! Why can’t I have fucking space, Beau?!” I screamed at him, all of my pain beginning to unravel inside of me. It started to leak from my pores, desperate to escape me.
“Because when you fucking look like this,” he growled down at me, “space obviously isn’t doing you any fucking good. I need you to talk to me so we can work through whatever is going on.”
“Nothingcan help this,” I seethed. Tears threatened to choke me again. My chin wobbled. “Nothing can fix death, Beau.” He ran his eyes over my face, trying to understand me. A tear slid down my cheek. A sob tore from my throat. Agony swept through my body. I would’ve fallen to my knees if he hadn’t still been grasping my upper arms. “Exactly one year ago today,” I croaked, “I listened on the other end of the phone as my parents died.”
Beau’s eyes widened, understanding finally passing over his features. Then, he crushed me to his chest. I promptly fell apart, wails ripping themselves from my chest. I clung to him, sobbing out my pain in his arms.
He sank to the floor with me when my legs trembled too much for me to stay upright, even in his hold. And just like that, right there on my kitchen floor, Beau held me while I felt like my world was falling apart around me all over again.
seven
Mikayla
Beau easedmy shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor before his rough palms slid around my sides to my back, where he unclasped my bra. I let the straps fall down my arms until it dropped to the floor beneath our feet.
“Just keep breathing for me, goldie,” he murmured, his palms running down my sides and along the band of my jeans until he could unsnap the button and tug down the zipper.
There was nothing sexual about what he was doing. I felt chilled to my bones after all the crying I’d been doing and the hurt that had been consuming me all day, and now that he was here, now that he knew what I was going through, I didn’t want to be alone. Ineededhim here with me.
He tugged my jeans down, hooking my panties as he went, and once they were pooled around my feet, he crouched and tapped my left ankle—a silent instruction for me to lift my foot. Settling a hand on his broad, warm shoulder, I lifted my foot, allowing him to pull the left pants leg off, and then he did the same to my right—tapping it lightly until I lifted it.
“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my thigh. I trembled, tears burning in my eyes, but I didn’t have the energy left within my body to allow them to fall.
I was so exhausted. Tired. Deep down in my bones.
Today was rough. Honestly, rough was an understatement. It wasalmostas bad as the day I heard them dying and could do nothing to help them.
I watched as Beau quickly stripped his clothes off, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor. He was a beautiful man—broad shoulders, thick biceps, flat stomach that led to a thick, hard cock. And though my core throbbed at the sight, I had no desire to be fucked tonight.
I needed comfort. Not sex. And I knew Beau understood that. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest a shower to warm me up once I was no longer crumbling to pieces in his hands.
“Come on,” he coaxed, holding his hand out to me. Our palms connected, and his fingers curled around mine, his warmth seeping into my chilled hand and racing up my arm to swirl around my heart. A soft sigh left my lips, but if Beau heard it, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he just helped me into the shower. When his arms circled my waist and pulled my body flush against his, I melted. Between the hot water pounding on my back and his heat pressing to the front of my body, I’d never felt warmer in my life.
“I think you need to see their graves, goldie,” he said softly, his chin resting on my head.
I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. He brushed his lips to the top of my head. “Mikayla, youneedto. Have you even been to see them since the funeral?”
I shook my head. I’d actually never seen their graves. “I didn’t go,” I rasped. God, my throat felt raw from all the crying I’d done. Tipping my head back, I swallowed some of the hot water, letting it soothe my throat. I jumped a tiny bit in surprise when Beau wrapped his hand around my throat. My eyes flashed to his, my jaw snapped closed.
“We’re going tomorrow,” he told me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he tightened his hold just enough to shut me up. “I’ll call Adler as soon as we get out of the shower and let him know I won’t be in for work. We’re going, goldie. I don’t care if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming. You’vegotto find closure.”
My lips trembled, and my eyes blurred with tears once again, but none of them fell. “I’m not ready.”
He pulled me back to him, his arms circling back around me. “You’re never going to be,” he said softly. “You just have to do it.”
* * *
I leaned with Beau as he took a curve. The wind was whipping my braid behind me and washing over my skin. I’d never been on a bike before, but it was freeing. More free than I’d ever felt in my life. And I suddenly understood why this was Beau’s preferred method of transportation.
There was something about being on this bike that made me feel like I was leaving all of my worries and troubles behind me. And damn if I didn’t need that.
