“What? I—no, I need to see Beau.”
“Want me to call Mads?” he offered.
I took a step back to look them each in the eye. “I want you to tell me what is going on and why I can’t see him.” When none of them offered anything, I folded my arms over my chest and lifted my chin. “Now.”
Cayson slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, where were you?” Sawyer demanded.
A sly smirk stole across Cayson’s face. “I had things to set up.”
“Idiot,” Sawyer murmured.
“Beau,” I snapped. “Tell me about Beau.”
Silence.
Just when I was about to scream from the unknown and the aggravation whipping through me from the past few minutes, Hunter sighed.
“Y’all were out . . . yeah?”
I nodded, my head bobbing shakily. “Yeah. Why?”
“Two . . . maybe three minutes before he got back, this guy shows up with the sheriff right behind him, asking for Beau.”
My stomach clenched as I thought about our spot at the plantation house—all the times we’d snuck into the back and inside.
I gripped at my stomach and prayed the churning would ease, my voice light and breathless when I asked, “Why?”
Hunter’s mouth formed a tight line as he studied me, his hand reaching out to gently grip my upper arm as he said, “Why don’t you sit.”
“No, just tell me!” I shouted.
“Savannah—”
“Hunter, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me, I’m going inside and finding out—”
“He isn’t here,” he said softly, bringing me up short.
I blinked quickly, causing tears to fall as I looked from him to the house and back again. Dread bloomed in my chest as I asked the question I feared I already knew the answer to. “Where is he?”
“County,” he finally answered, the word nothing more than a shamed apology.
As if it were Hunter’s fault his brother had been arrested.
A strangled sob climbed up my throat before I was able to force it all back. The tears. The devastation. The sorrow for Beau.
I’d let it out later.
Right then, I needed to be strong for him.
With a steadying breath, I asked, “Why? He hasn’t done anything.”
“I dunno. I came in as the sheriff was putting him in cuffs. All I heard was the other guy say the family had decided to press charges and file a civil suit against Beau for what he had done.”
Oh God.
“But he hasn’t done anything,” I maintained.
Hunter shrugged, and we all looked when a car turned into the drive, the headlights softly glowing in the early evening sky.
Hope swirled in my chest as I watched Mrs. Dixon’s car get closer and closer, only to shatter when I realized Beau wasn’t with his parents.
I took thin, shallow breaths. Refusing to break down. Refusing to be anything but strong right then.
“Oh, Savannah, honey,” Mrs. Dixon said as she exited the passenger side, face a mess and voice thick from tears. “Now isn’t a good time. I’m sorry, sweet girl.”
“Please, I want to know what happened.”
“Bullshit is what happened,” Mr. Dixon snapped as he slammed the driver’s door shut behind him.
“Mike,” Mrs. Dixon said, sounding too exhausted to argue.
“It is,” he continued. “You know damn well Beau wouldn’t do that shit.”
“We can’t—” Mrs. Dixon’s glassy gaze met mine and her lips formed a thin line before lifting into a pained smile. “We’ll let Beau know you stopped by.”
“He hasn’t done anything,” I said confidently. “He’s been trying so hard to keep calm. He is keeping himself calm.”
“Yeah, well,” Mr. Dixon said with an irritated huff, “that ain’t what your little friend is sayin’, and Beau ain’t sayin’ a damn thing to defend himself.”
Of course he wasn’t.
“Wait . . . what friend?”
“Mike, please,” Mrs. Dixon whispered.
“No, she deserves to know what’s goin’ on,” he said, then jerked his head in the direction of town. “That Rowe kid. The younger one.”
Disbelief and anger consumed me so quickly that it stole my breath. “Excuse me?”
“Wait, Philip?” Hunter asked, sounding nearly as pissed as I was. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Language,” Mrs. Dixon chastised.
Hunter scoffed. “Anything Beau did to him, that jackass deserved.”
“Well, apparently your brother put him in the hospital last week—the poor boy only needed stitches, thank God,” his mom went on.
I rocked back a step, my hands balling into fists as I struggled to say anything and only managed something that resembled an enraged scream.
“Bullshit,” Hunter barked.
“Exactly,” Mr. Dixon said, waving a hand in Hunter’s direction.
“Again,” Mrs. Dixon seethed, “language.”
“Philip tripped into the lockers last week—Beau wasn’t even near him,” Hunter said, explaining what I had just minutes before. “We were all there.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” I whispered, sounding all kinds of hysterical.
“Didn’t he hit Beau?” Hunter asked.
“He did,” I confirmed as I started backing away. “Then he took off, trying to antagonize Beau into going after him. But Beau never left my side.”
“See?” Hunter said, then looked to where I was leaving. “Where are you going?”
“Taking care of it,” was all I said as I hurried back the way I’d come, the run home seeming to take a fraction of the time.
I was both relieved and pissed off as I ran up my driveway and passed the Rowes’ car. Because I didn’t have to go to them, but it meant they were there.
“You’re still here?” I yelled as I shut the front door behind me, my eyes locked on where the Rowes and my parents were standing halfway between the kitchen and entryway.
“Savannah,” my mom reprimanded in a low tone. “I know you’re upset, but you need to remember your manners.”
My head shook fiercely. “No. No, no, no. You’re still here,” I repeated, my voice cracking as I pointed at the door behind me. “You know you were wrong—that Philip lied to you—and you’re here when my boyfriend is sitting in jail because of you.”
Shock covered my parents’ faces as they turned to Mr. and Mrs. Rowe, both wearing twin expressions of shame.
“Jesus,” Peter sighed before making his way through everyone. He set his hands on my shoulders, eyebrows drawn together in apology. “I’m sorry for my family. Love you, Anna-Hannah.”
“You too.”
He gave my shoulders a squeeze and moved past me, the door opening and closing as my dad asked, “What’s happening now?”
“Beau was arrested tonight. They’re suing him and pressing charges for what he did to Philip—also known as what Philip did to himself,” I answered for the Rowes before focusing on them. “And even after I told y’all what really happened, you stayed here. You knew what was happening to him tonight, and you didn’t care to fix your mistakes. Mistakes that Beau accepted even though he knew he had no fault in them. He let them arrest him without saying a word.” I looked at where Philip was trying to blend into a wall. “If you even make it that far, you are going to be the worst lawyer. How did you think this would end when there were dozens of witnesses?”