Page 62 of Forsaken Oath

The sun feelslike a weighted blanket against my skin as I stretch out on the faded lounge chair in our backyard. It’s quiet, except for the faint buzz of cicadas and the occasional rustle of the breeze through the trees. This is exactly what I need—a moment of peace before everything goes to hell tonight.

I adjust my sunglasses and let my head fall back, soaking in the rays. I’m only planning to stay out here for twenty minutes, then I have to get some things in order.

On the outside, I look all cool and calm. But on the inside, I’m a riot of nerves. Not that Margot or Vivie would ever know. I try to keep all that kind of stuff from them.

The screen door slams open with a bang loud enough to make me jump, and I hear her footsteps pounding across the patio like an approaching storm. Her shadow falls over me, blocking the sun like some prehistoric bird.

“I’ve given you a day,” she announces, hands on her hips, her voice full of righteous fury. “I gave you an entire stakeout outside that club and the entire drive home. All night, and then all morning. I’ve been patient, Louie, but I can’t wait any longer.”

I lift my sunglasses just enough to glare at her. “Margot, you’re blocking my light.”

“You’re leaving soon, and I need to know what’s going on with you and that guy yesterday.” She waves a hand dramatically in front of her, as if erasing my glare. “I’ve been patient as fuck, Louie.”

Dropping my sunglasses back into place, I sigh. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you’renot,” she fires back. “What are you even doing out here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, getting ready for the race or something?”

“It’s not homecoming,” I deadpan. “I’m soaking up vitamin D, letting Mother Nature give me good luck.”

Her brows shoot up. “Is that even a thing?”

I shrug lazily. “I don’t know. Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?”

Margot groans, throwing her hands up. “I’m dying over here, Louie.Dying.Tell me everything. I need to know before I combust.”

I tilt my head toward her, a slow smirk spreading across my face. “What exactly do you think you need to know?”

She narrows her eyes at me, and I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. “Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. You’re not nearly as cute as you think you are.”

I push to sit up, indignation straightening my neck. “Bullshit I’m not. I have it on good authority that I’mverycute and coy.”

She sits on the edge of the ottoman, her knees touching my lounger. “From who, your man?”

I rear back even as my cheeks grow warm. “What? No. From me. I don’t have a man.I’mthe good authority.”

Margot rolls her eyes so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t strain something. “Sure. Okay. Whatever.” She huffs, planting her hands behind her and leaning back. “You don’t want to tellme, that’s fine. I’m just your goddamn best friendandsister, but yeah, just ice me out. It’s cool.”

My lips part as shock steals my tongue for a moment. “Wow. Layin’ it on pretty thick, aren’t we?”

She drops her head back, face to the sky. “I just want to know what’s going on with you, Louie. Who was that guy at the coffee shop? The way he looked at you . . .” She trails off, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen anyone look at you like that before.”

I shift in my seat, an uncomfortable prickle running down my spine. She’s not wrong. The intensity in Beau’s eyes when he looks at me, it’s unsettling. Thrilling. Terrifying.

I exhale slowly, choosing my words carefully. “We met a couple of months ago.”

Margot sits up straight, her eyes wide. “Where?”

“In Oak Creek. I was finishing up a job, and we, I don’t know, bumped into one another. Became friends, I guess.” That word feels misshapen on my tongue, all sharp edges and dunked in sharp citrus.

She leans forward, her eyebrows digging into a V over her eyes. “Friends?” She barks out a quick laugh, leaning back again. “Bullshit. Friends don’t eye-fuck each other in the middle of a coffee shop like that.”

I choke on a laugh, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Jesus, Margot.”

“What? I’m just saying.” She shifts, elbows on her knees, and fixes me with an intent stare. “Spill, sis. I need the details.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, hesitating. Part of me wants to keep Beau to myself, like a secret I'm not ready to share. But another part of me is desperate to talk about him, to try to make sense of the tangled mess of emotions he stirs up in me.

I shake my head, my stomach twisting. “It’s complicated. He’s . . .” I hesitate, searching for the right words. “He’s my competition, Margot.”

---