Page 64 of Live for Me

“Mags?” I asked.

Denver nodded. “He finished it this morning.”

A small huff of disbelief left me, and I looked out the doorway, shaking my head.

“I know you don’t like secrets, Beau,” Denver said gently. “But this wasn’t my secret. It was your father’s.”

“That’s not—” I cut myself off, feeling the key digging into my palm, wishing it would draw blood. “That’s not why I’m upset.”

Denver remained silent, either waiting for an answer or worse—he already knew the fucking answer, because he, like his brother, got his happy endings, his woman.

“Pop was saving this cabin as a wedding gift, wasn’t he?” I asked roughly, my voice thick with pain and anger. I slowly twisted my neck to look at Denver. “Wasn’t he?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Beau, he was.”

A harsh laugh left me, and I pulled off my hat, wanting to throw the fucking thing. I’d had enough bad luck in my life; what was a little more going to hurt? I looked down the floor, my jaw working as the life I could’ve had with Abbie in this cabin played out in my head.

“Beau?”

“She would’ve done her master's thesis right there,” I murmured, pointing to the center of the couch with my hat. “All her damn research, books, and supplies would’ve been spread out all over the damn coffee table—which we would’ve gotten from Mags years ago as a wedding present.”

Denver said nothing, staring at me with anguish in his eyes.

I looked over the armchair. “And I would’ve sat there every fucking night and watched her work without complaint, because watching her is better than any fucking game that would’ve been playing on the TV I would’ve hung up on the wall behind you.”

I swung my arm out, pointing my hat to room on the other side of the stairs, where a small dining room table sat, four chairs perched around it. “We would’ve had our first meal inthis house there. Every week, Pop would’ve come by for some of Abbie’s peach pie. We’d invite the twins over for game night, and Lawson would’ve hated how good she is at poker.” I shook my head, and my voice began to shake with fury. “Hell, Abbie would’ve helped Caleb out with his goddamn homework right the fuck there if she hadn’t fucking left me!” The last word came out as a roar, and I threw my hat out the front door.

Denver took a step forward. “Beau—”

“—would’ve put the Christmas tree behind you in that corner. I would’ve chased her through this fucking house, laughing with her. I would’ve made love to her every fucking night in the bedroom upstairs, turned the spare room into her studio, painted the bathroom whatever fucking color she wanted because she would’ve changed her mind over a thousand fucking times during our first year.”

My chest was heaving now, and I put my hands on my hips, letting myself drown in the pain of what could’ve been. I bent my head, staring at the floor, knowing that, without a shadow of a doubt, we would’ve been happy here. “We would’ve had a good life, with or without kids, because she was always on the fence about having them. Either way, I would’ve been fucking happy because she would’ve been mine, Denver. She would’ve been my wildflower, and I would’ve been her Beau.”

I heard him move, and a few seconds later, his boots were just a foot away from mine. I looked up. He was dusting off my hat, his eyes guarded as he studied me. Once he was done, he held it out to me.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t apologize to me for being human, Beau,” he said.

I took my hat, letting it hang at my side as I swallowed the lump in my throat, keeping my eyes on the pine trees outside. A gentle breeze came through, pushing the branches, causing more pine needles to fall to the ground. “When I heard she wasin danger, I had tunnel vision,” I confessed, my voice cracking. “I don’t even remember the drive into the city, just the pain in my chest, the fear in my heart.” I let out a shaky breath. “When she opened that door, all the healing I’d thought I’d done erased itself. Seeing her in another man’s t-shirt wasn’t as painful as hearing her say my name again. That felt like a kick in the gut, Den.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

My head snapped up, meeting his eyes. “Yes, I do,” I murmured. “Because if I don’t, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I made a promise to protect her long ago, and I’ll be damned if I break that promise now.”

“Red Snake can handle this case, Beau. They can put her under their protection, and you wouldn’t have to worry—”

“—I’ll always worry about her,” I said, cutting him off. “I was put on this fucking planet to worry about her—toloveher.”

A short wave of understanding washed over his face then as his brow line softened, his eyes filling with a form of pity I’d never thought would be directed at me. I didn’t even have the strength to hate it. I was running on fumes, had been since I brought her back into my life.

“She can stay at Mason and Harmony’s,” he offered, trying to yet again, give me an out.

I shook my head. “She stays with me.”

He took a deep breath, nodding to himself before turning and walking into the kitchen. Reluctantly, I followed, shoving my pain down. The kitchen was modest and comfortable, with an “L” shape layout and a small bar with two stools in the middle. He walked through the kitchen in silence, leading me back to the utility room that housed the water heater and washer and dryer. “Water pressure in the upstairs bathroom isn’t the best, but I’ll try to work on that tomorrow,” he noted gruffly.

“There’s no need for that, Denver,” I told him. “I got it.”

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