“Are you crazy?”
“Insane,” I murmur to myself.
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because it’ll look fucking odd if I’m there solo,” I retort, turning when I reach the top of the stairs. Goldie has made her way to the bottom. “And we’d look a bit weird together.”
“Yes, I’m sure people will think you’re punching way above your weight, you arrogant fuck.”
“Such a lady,” I mutter, getting on my way. “Make sure Otto got my message.”
“He just left.”
“I want updates.”
“In case she sees her ex again?”
“My interest in that is only because he’s a copper.”
“Of course,” she practically sighs. “And while you’re balancing in the gym, can you try to balance your fucking head as well?”
I laugh to myself. I’ll try. God knows why Goldie’s still so fucking loyal to me. I’d never let anyone hurt her, she knows that, although she’s learned a lot from me since I stepped in, a total stranger, and ripped that lowlife rapist off her in that alley in London. She can defend herself, but this, me, my life, is now all she knows. She has a purpose now, beyond her time in the military. She has people, albeit limited people, who respect her and value her. She feels like she owes me. It’s been a long time since she’s seen me do something so contrary to the plan. Her anger is understandable. She won’t allow herself freedom until I find it for myself, and Beau Hayley is seriously screwing with that plan.
I push my way into the gym, heading straight for the horse. I take the handles, flexing my fingers, getting the best grip, and slowly pull myself up, bringing my knees into my chest, before unbending my arms and lengthening my legs until I’m vertical, my body straight. Blood rushes to my head, my balance faultless, and I remain in a handstand, arms at full length, my eyes closed.
Just focusing on remaining steady.
And, inevitably, with the absence of Beau here to distract me, my thoughts turn to a past I’ve tried and failed to forget.
To the shell who mourned his lost life for years after his family was wiped out. To the hollow man who drowned in alcohol and drugs. To the pitiful, broken mess who attempted therapy battling—and not defeating—his black thoughts.
And to the monster who was eventually born.
The monster I am now.
The monster I will always be.
26
BEAU
Sleep feels like a slow, unending torture. I close my eyes, I see him. I wipe him clear, I see Mom. I wipe Mom away, I see fire. Smell the stench of burning flesh. Hear her screams.
Hear my screams.
I fight it all from my dreams and see the letter denying me the answers Mom deserves. The answers I need.
I don’t need anything.
Except that.
A movement at my door pulls my attention to the wood, and I see the handle move ever so slightly. But Lawrence doesn’t come in. I sit up and grab my cell, checking the time. It’s seven. I’ve been lying here for hours at war with my head, battling with sense and reason.
I pull up Nath’s number and dial, falling back to the pillow. The sounds of a bustling coffee house seeps down the line when he answers, the gurgling of the machine, the scrapes of chairs on the floor. “They denied my appeal,” I say mechanically.
Nath’s silent for a brief moment, and for the first time I consider that he already knew. “Beau—”
“Did you know?”
A brief silence. A sigh. “I knew.”
I reach up to my forehead and try to rub away the headache that’s threatening. Of course he knew. And Ollie probably did too. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask for the sake of it. I know why, and it isn’t only because it would have been top-secret information. Nath knows as well as I do that my life’s been hanging in the balance for two years, unable to move forward until I’ve found my peace. I’m trapped. Caged.
“Beau, you have to move on.”
“To what?” I ask. “What do I have to move on to, Nath?”
“Anything you want.”
Anything I want? I want my mom back. I want my life as I knew it back. I want faith and hope and daily justice. I can have none of it anymore.
“The MPD would have you back in a heartbeat. You’ve got too much potential for them to lose permanently.”
“You mean enough potential to stir more shit?” I ask. There’s only one reason the force would have me back now, after my relentless attempts to prove Mom’s death wasn’t a tragic accident. To keep me close. To keep an eye on me. To keep me quiet. No. “I won’t let this rest. Someone knows something, Nath.”
“You’re out of options.”
I close my eyes and swallow hard, refusing to accept he’s right. But there’s a power far greater than me at play here. I can’t beat them. But it’ll finish me off if I give up hope.
“You free tomorrow?” he asks softly. “Let’s push the boat out and do lunch as well as coffee.”
“Sure,” I mumble, getting up and pulling on my robe. It’s not Nath’s fault he works for an institution of liars. And he’s a good friend. One of the only ones I have now. Mom trusted him with her life. I trust him too. “Let me know what time and where.” I hang up and stare at the door. I can feel the tension in the house even locked away in my room. I can’t bear it. I look at the piles of apartment brochures on the sideboard. Perhaps it’s finally time to get my own place. A big glass box on top of a building, all spacious, peaceful, and light.
Maybe. Is that what I need? Or is it simply the glass man inside?
No.
I take a deep breath and leave my room, forcing my feet to take me to Lawrence before my head has a chance to foil my plan. I push the door to his bedroom open, finding him lying on the bed in his silk robe that’s embellished with flamingos. He’s twiddling his thumbs, chewing his lip. “You’ll get scabs on your lip and your lipstick will clog,” I say, pacing over and dropping to the mattress beside him. I turn my head on the pillow to face him. “You need a shave.”
He reaches up to his jaw and feels, grimacing. “I was too busy whittling about you last night. I forgot.” Reaching for my hand, he pulls it to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. The arm of my robe slips down, revealing my welts. They’re still red. Still fresh. I don’t rush to cover them. “Tell me about him,” he says, shuffling down the bed and mirroring me.
I indulge him, if only for his sanity. Even if it might send me over the edge. “His name’s James.” And he has more secrets than me, which pretty much makes him the most enticing man I could find. And his ways in the bedroom make him all the more tempting. “We spent the first few days of our professional relationship avoiding each other’s eyes.” That’s a lie. I avoided. James goaded. “And then one evening when I was leaving, he said something that triggered something in me.”
“Triggered what?”
“Lara.”
Lawrence gasps, and I nod. He knows what I’m capable of. He knows I’m lethal when I put my mind to it. “Did you disengage him?”