Page 93 of Forsaken Oath

Beau chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest pressed against my back. “I can be quick.”

Margot’s footfalls give her away.

Beau steps back, placing the mugs on the counter in front of me just as Margot rounds the corner into the kitchen.

She’d be the first to go in a horror movie simply because that girl is incapable of moving quietly. She stops at the threshold of the kitchen, dressed in leggings and an oversized hoodie, with her hair piled in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her eyes flick between us before a sly grin spreads across her face. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Her gaze shifts to me, eyebrows raised. “Or areyouthecatin this situation?”

“Jesus, Margot.” I groan, pulling the coffeepot off the warmer. “It’s not even nine a.m.”

Margot shrugs, unbothered, and bounds into the room. Her eyes light up when they land on the pink box on the table. She tilts her head, grinning up at Beau with an air of appraisal, like she’s sizing him up. “Donuts are a nice touch,” she says, nodding approvingly.

Beau chuckles, ass leaning against the counter next to me. “I aim to please.”

“Did I hear donuts?” Vivie asks, voice thick with sleep. She trudges into the kitchen, rubbing one of her eyes.

Vivie stops short when she sees Beau, her eyes widening. She blinks a few times, like she’s not quite sure if she’s still dreaming. “Who are you?” she asks, accusation and curiosity in her tone.

My stomach twists, a sharp pang of guilt shooting through me. In all the excitement of seeing Beau on my front porch, I didn’t even think about how to introduce him to Vivie. She’s never seen me with a guy before, not like this. And now here he is, standing in our kitchen like he belongs there.

“Vivie, this is Beau. He brought donuts for us.”

Vivie looks from me to Beau to the pink box. “What kind of donuts?” she asks, like the answer is a deal-breaker.

Beau nods like he was expecting this question. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite was, so I got a little bit of everything.”

“Custard?” she asks, arching a brow.

“Custard, raspberry jelly, fried crullers, cinnamon twists, chocolate frosted cake, some long johns, even an apple fritter.”

Vivie’s eyes grow wider with every word. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “That’s likeallthe flavors.”

Beau flashes her a grin, his dimple appearing. “You’ll have to try them all and rank your favorites. I hear you guys are into that.”

Vivie’s wide eyes dart from Beau to the donut box and back again. “Okay, you can stay,” she declares with a decisive nod. She marches over to the table and flips open the lid of the box, her face lighting up when she sees the colorful array of donuts inside. “Oh my god, they all look so good!”

Margot snorts, sidling up next to Vivie and peering into the box. “He’s trying to buy his way into our hearts, Vivie. Stay strong.”

Margot reaches into the pink box and grabs a chocolate frosted donut, taking a large bite as she turns to leave the kitchen. “Mm, not bad,” she mumbles around a mouthful of sugary dough. “But it’s gonna take a helluva lot more than a jelly donut to win me over, Carter.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder at me before disappearing down the hallway, her footsteps echoing on the hardwood.

Vivie, meanwhile, is fully engrossed in the donut selection process. She hovers over the box, her face scrunched up in concentration as she mumbles over the selection.

I turn toward Beau just as someone pounds on the front door.

“Eloise! Open the damn door!”

My heart stops at the sound of my mother's voice, her fist pounding against the front door like a battering ram. Panic claws up my throat, choking me.

Oh god, why is she here? She never comes here. Not since?—

“Louie? What’s going on?” Vivie asks, her eyes wide and brows furrowed as she looks at me.

I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I set down the coffee mug with a jarring clatter. Anger is swift on the heels of fear. I wrap it around me like a fleece blanket, letting it warm me from the inside. I have an endless pit of anger when it comes to my mother, so it’s hard not to draw upon it. I just didn’t realize I needed to dig deep so soon.

“What’s going on, Peach?”

Oh god, I almost forgot that he was here. I turn to Beau, my heart pounding. “It’s fucking Darla,” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper.

Beau’s brows furrow in concern. “Who’s Darla? Do you want me to handle it?”

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