Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Waylon—asshole that he was—deduced—rightly so—that their size difference and general stature meant that he wouldn’t win any kind of fair fight he had with Beau.
He scowled at me, squeezing hard enough for me to let out a mew of pain before letting me go with a push, causing me to go tumbling back into Beau’s firm, warm body.
When Beau caught me, holding me close to him, my body instantly relaxed. My jaw relaxed, my heartbeat calmed. His arms only released me to drape a large coat over my freezing shoulders before positioning me at his side, slightly behind him.
“She’s a crazy bitch,” Waylon spat, looking me up and down with a sneer. “You’ll be roped in by the tits, the lips. But she’ll ruin your fucking life.”
Beau’s body became a statue, his arms holding me in place. “Your five seconds are up.”
Waylon snarled before turning and walking to his beat-up pickup idling at the curb.
Though I felt physically safe, the panic coursing through my veins made black spots dance in my vision. I tried to reason with reality, over what had just happened. Waylon was here. In the place I’d found true happiness—with some complications—and he just shat all over it. Ensured that this place would always be tainted by his presence.
Beau walked us back inside, quietly closing the door.
I stared at it, my heart hammering in panic, my eyes prickling with tears. Then I darted my gaze around in horror.
“Where’s Clara?” I was suddenly appalled at the thought of her having heard some or any of that. Clara wasn’t cognizant of the kinds of horrible people who existed in the world.
She understood how cruel fate could be and had ample experience with it. But everyone she’d been exposed to in her short life had been kind, loving.
I didn’t want to be the one responsible for tarnishing that outlook. For bursting the wonderful bubble of love she existed within.
“In her room, headphones on, listening to an audiobook,” Beau murmured, eyes intent on me.
I closed my own in relief, but still shame coated me like oil, aware that Beau had heard enough to direct Clara to her room. He’d heard Waylon call me his wife. He’d seen Waylon in all his glory, realizing that I was a woman who agreed to marry a man like that.
“I’m not crazy,” I blurted, overwhelmed by all the things there was to say right then. All the things I wanted to say.
He searched my face, probing it with a gentleness I hadn’t thought Beau capable of.
“I’ve learned two things. Never believe a man when he says a woman is crazy, and always believe a woman when she says a man is dangerous.”
“I didn’t say he was dangerous.” I tilted my head in confusion. The last thing Beau needed to know about Waylon was his past. But then again, he now knew where I lived.
The intense way Beau peered at me pinned me to the spot. “You didn’t need to.” Slowly and pointedly, he pulled the jacket—his jacket—from my shoulders, exposing my arms.
He looked furious, lips a flat line as he focused on the red, throbbing spot on my upper arm.
“He do that often, Hannah?” he asked quietly. “Did he mark you often? Bruise you?”
The menace threaded through those soft words sent chills down my spine. Beau was standing too still. I knew Beau would never hurt me in a million years, knew his fury was directed toward Waylon, but I couldn’t help but be filled with shame.
I opened my mouth to lie. Then to tell the truth. Which was worse? Which would hurt less?
A knock on the door had me jumping. I cursed myself for looking so skittish. So fragile. So in need of rescuing with no hero to be found.
“Don’t move.” Beau’s eyes slid to the door, his voice harsh and authoritative yet comforting.
“It’s got to be Lori.” It was difficult, but I was able to force my tone to sound even. “Waylon has to be gone by now. He’s not smart enough to completely leave me alone, but he’s also not brave enough to try anything now that he knows there’s someone stronger in residence.”
It was the truth, as much as I hated it. Waylon was a bully, and bullies liked weaker prey.
Beau was anything but weak.
I didn’t want to hide behind Beau—he wasn’t going to be around forever. Nor was I his to protect. I wanted to protect myself. Be stronger.
Beau’s eyes skated over my body, his brows knitting together in an angry frown, gaze lingering on my throbbing arm.
“We’re going to talk about this,” he said with finality. “You’re going to tell me everything. Tonight.”
He didn’t wait for me to reply, just turned to open the door.
Lori was on the other side, a smile on her face. Clara seemed to have a sixth sense because she came bounding down the hall, taking the snacks from Lori’s arms.