Page 122 of Forsaken Oath

It’s the kind of expression that makes it feel like something is slithering underneath my skin, not itchy, but uncomfortable and painful.

“What do you think you get, exactly?”

“You don’t think you deserve to be happy.”

Margot’s words hang in the air between us, a painful truth I can’t bring myself to acknowledge. My throat tightens, a lump forming that I can’t swallow past.

“That’s not true,” I whisper, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice.

She shakes her head, a sad, knowing smile on her lips. “Isn’t it though? You’ve spent your whole life taking care of us, sacrificing everything for me and Vivie. But what about you, Louie? When do you get to be happy?”

I look at my sister and blink, letting a single tear fall down my cheek. I pull my hand out of hers and stand up, carefully pushing in the stool.

“I don’t.”

53

BEAU

I pullinto the shaded parking lot at Evergreen Park, the gravel crunching beneath my tires. The late morning sun filters through the canopy of oak and maple trees, dappling the hood of my black pickup truck with spots of golden light.

I put the truck in park and hop out, the warm breeze ruffling my hair. The scent of fresh-cut grass and pine needles permeates the air, a hint of sweetness from the nearby wildflower meadow drifting on the wind.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, half-expecting it to be from Peach. But it’s from Mason. We’d been texting often in the last couple of months, but I hadn’t heard much from him in a few days. My last text was telling him to give me a head’s up if he needed some help. To be honest, I didn’t mind walking his little boy around the living room for a few hours.

Mason: All good here. I found someone who’s been helping. Thanks though.

“Hm,” I hum under my breath. Good for him. Mason was never good about asking for help, but then again, who really is?

I head around to the bed of the truck where a checkered blanket and wicker picnic basket await. A smile tugs at my lips as I picture Peach’s reaction to the surprise picnic I’ve planned. After the chaos and adrenaline of the Gauntlet semifinals last week, I figured we could both use a day to relax and just be together.

Especially before the final race. The texts should go out any day now, but I wouldn’t put it past the coalition to make their own timelines just to fuck with people.

Only the top five advance to the final race, and I know she’s one of ’em. I’d be willing to bet I am as well. We haven’t talked too much about it, and it’s almost become the elephant in our relationship.

I set up the foam mattress and blankets in the back of the truck, arranging the cooler and picnic basket. The low purr of her engine rumbles across the park as she parks next to me.

I hop out of the bed of the truck and stride toward her. She pushes open her door before I can reach her, and I know instantly something is wrong.

Eloise steps out of her car, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. There’s a tightness to her posture, a rigidity in the set of her shoulders that sends a frisson of unease down my spine. Her eyes are puffy and red, like she hasn’t slept, and her lips look like she’s been stress-biting them.

Anger flies up my throat on her behalf. Whoever upset her is gonna get up close and personal with my fist.

“What happened, Peach?”

“Hey,” she murmurs. Her gaze darts to the picnic setup in my truck. “You brought us a picnic?” There’s a mountain of emotion in those handful of words, but I can’t even begin to unravel it all.

“Yeah, baby, I did. I wanted to spend some time with you.” And I wanted to tell her about the paperwork Graham was able to push through for her and Viv.

Her shoulders slump, and she looks away. “Shit,” she mumbles under her breath.

I reach out and snag her hand, tugging her toward me. Wrapping my arms around her, I drop a kiss to the top of her head. “Tell me who made you upset. I’ll take care of it for you.”

She exhales heavily and steps out of my embrace. “I don’t need you to fight my battles or fix everything or solve my problems, Beau.”

Confusion weighs down my brow, my internal siren blaring. “We’re a team, baby. That’s exactly what that means. When you need help, I’m the first in line to offer it.”

“I—” She stops, her jaw tightening as she looks away, toward the horizon. Like she’s trying to find the words in the clouds or the swaying grass beyond us.

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