Page 171 of Beau and the Beast

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Hearingthe commotion as Violet and Wolfram had prepared for Beau to leave, the others had stepped out to join them in the main living area. Geoffrey was explaining to Song, James, and Alfie what was going on as Wolfram walked Beau to the door.

“I’m coming right back after I have this sorted out,” Beau said, hefting the bag of cash to his shoulder. Wolfram pressed his cell phone into his hand.

“Just go,” he said impatiently.

What was it about Wolfram’s posture, about his voice that made Beau hesitate?

He felt something tugging at the very core of him, as if his center of gravity had shifted so that he was no longer aligned with the earth itself but with Wolfram, the penthouse. He needed to go—wantedto go take care of his brother—but at the same time, he felt a sudden flush of panic about leaving.

What was it that was making the moment seem so cruel and terrible? Beau was about to leave the penthouse for the first time since he’d arrived—so why did it also feel like thelasttime he’d leave?

Wolfram must have felt it too. He’d pressed his lips into a line like there was something more he wanted to say but didn’t dare.

I love him,Beau thought illogically and intensely.It would be easier to say goodbye if you just told him.

Instead, he stepped forward, pulled Wolfram down, and kissed him. He didn’t care if the others saw. He didn’t care who knew. He needed to kiss Wolfram before he left, to make a promise of the kiss:there is more to come, I am coming home, I belong here with you.

When they broke, Wolfram wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Go, Beau.”

Fighting illogical tears, Beau strode out of the penthouse armed with his cell phone and a bag full of cash. As he stood on the elevator, he brought the phone up and unlocked it, wanting to call Noah.

Damned reception.

He couldn’t get the thing to connect to a network from inside the elevator. Beau waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the ground floor where he could call Noah and ask him what the hell was going on.

It didn’t sink in how odd it was to be out of the penthouse until he reached the ground floor, the doors opening up to the big lobby that he’d never even seen by the midday light, despite living there for a month. People streamed around him. He could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of Lincoln getting onto an elevator—but there was no way it was him. Beau decided that his brain simply needed a moment to adjust after only having seen the same people for so many weeks.

He strode through the lobby toward the street. It was so different than it had been over a month ago when he’d arrived, feeling small and frightened and like he looked out of place.

Beau felt in that moment like he owned 330 West. He felt brave. He was going to see Noah and save him from whatever stupid thing he’d gotten himself into now.

Beau walked through the front doors and was blinded by the sun, shielding his eyes against it. It was warm outside—far hotter than he’d expected—and the air hung heavy and breezeless around him. New Whitby pulsed with life, traffic streaming forward, people teeming on the streets, a police siren screaming by somewhere down the street—and birds, more birdsong than Beau had ever remembered hearing in this part of town.

Squinting against the glare, Beau tapped the phone to call Noah and stepped forward to scan the street for the car Wolfram had called.

“Beau?!”

“Noah, what the hell is going on? There are cops coming for—“

“I know,” Noah said, his voice sounding panicked. “What the hell are you—whereareyou?”

“I’m at the foot of 330 West waiting for a car,” Beau said. “How did you know there are cops coming? I’ve got money to bail you out, but if you’re not even under arrest yet maybe we can just explain that—“

“I see you,” Noah said.

Beau whirled on his heel, looking for his brother. “How? Where areyou?”

“I’m at Lincoln’s apartment—I’m looking at you through the monitor. You have to turn around and get Lincoln.”

“Get him? From where?”

“He’s headed up to the penthouse to find you! That’s why I breached the security system—to get him inside.”

“Jesus, Noah, why?”

“Because we were worried about you,” Noah said, sounding frustrated and relieved all at once. “I was scared you were lying to me and they were—I don’t know—torturing you or something.”

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