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His muscles aching from practice, and his hair still wet from the shower, Beau pushed open the gym door and stepped outside into the rays of the late afternoon sun. The cool air clung to him like cobwebs and tickled his skin. He strutted from the door, lugging his heavy book bag over his shoulder as his stomach rumbled for food.
At the gate to the field, the shadows from the metal bleachers blocked the sun, sending a shiver through him. He halted. The sensation was more than passing from light to dark—it was as if he had changed from one world to another.
Something told him to look up, and when he did, he saw Taylor seated at the bottom of the stands, taking in the cheerleaders gathered below her. Their eyes met, and the chill returned with a vengeance.
Taylor got up from her spot and went to the steps leading to the oval track where Dawn and the other cheerleaders stood huddled in a group.
He hurried to the track, his tennis shoes crunching on the gravel while a bitter taste rose up the back of his throat.
Taylor pulled Dawn away from the others in the squad and whispered in her ear. Since Dawn’s head was down as Taylor spoke to her, he couldn’t gauge her reaction, and the knot in his stomach tightened.
If that bitch so much as ...
“Dawn, you ready to go?”
She raised her head; the smile she gave him radiated nothing but love and warmth. There was no hint of anger in her eyes, and he relaxed. Then he shifted his attention to Taylor, picturing her spread naked, bruised, and bleeding before him.
“Hey, baby.” Dawn picked up her bag and motioned to Taylor. “You remember Taylor Haskins, right?”
Beau ignored Taylor’s glower and took Dawn’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What’s your problem?” Dawn shirked off his grip as he tugged her to his car.
“No problem.” His arm went around her. “We just got a limited amount of time together this afternoon. I don’t want to waste it talking to some stuck-up girl.”
“You think Taylor is stuck up?”
He opened her car door, feeling edgy. He needed to keep those two far apart.
“Let’s not talk about her anymore.” Beau pecked her cheek. “Now tell me what are you in the mood for? Pizza or burgers?”
She squealed. “Pizza!”
Once Dawn settled in the front seat, Beau shut her door and went around to his side of the car. He reached for his door handle and glanced at the field.
Taylor met his threatening gaze, but instead of backing down, she seemed empowered. She kept up her hostile stare as if to say, “I dare you.”
He imagined taking her back to his cell and making her pay for her disrespect.
Just you wait.
* * *
The sun dipped behind the buildings along Main Street, stretching long shadows over the road in front of Beau’s car. The businesses in the one-story shops crowding the sidewalks had a steady stream of customers buying clothes, hardware, shoes, antiques, art, and even getting a trim at Best Barber.
“So that will mean I have to find a new girl,” Dawn explained, coming to the end of her lengthy explanation
“A new girl for what?” He peered ahead to the storefront—a neon piece of pizza flashing Carl’s in white.
“Weren’t you listening to me?” She swatted his arm. “Taylor wants to quit the squad.” Dawn huffed in her seat. “How do you not want to do cheerleading anymore? That baffles me.”
“I told you that girl was screwy.” He pulled into a small parking lot. “You need to stay away from her.”
Dawn scrunched her face. “Why don’t you like her? She’s nice.”
He eased into a spot at the end of the lot, away from the side entrance to the eatery. “Some of the guys had a few run-ins with her and said she’s a bitch. I don’t want her influencing you.”
“What guys?” Dawn’s heart-shaped mouth twisted into a frown. “She never mentioned anyone to me.”
“I’ve heard stuff in gym class.” Beau kicked open his door, wanting to drop the subject. “Come on. I’m starved.”
Through the glass windows along the side entrance, classmates and several members of the football team filled the booths and tables. He opened the door and a whoosh of pepperoni-flavored air-conditioning accosted him. A jazzy hip-hop tune blasted from the red, yellow, and green neon jukebox in the corner of the dining room.
He pulled back his shoulders and plastered on a fake smile. Years of listening to his father’s lectures on how to present himself in public had become ingrained.
He put his hand behind Dawn’s back, helping her through the center aisle and around the clog of tables set up between the steel-topped counter on the left, and orange vinyl booths on the right. The aroma of cooking cheese and meat teased him while the din of conversations and music unraveled his concentration.
“Beau, my man,” Carl Jr. greeted from behind the counter. “You going to lead the team to victory against Forest Glen High this Friday?”
Beau gave the short man with sunken eyes a confident nod. “You know it, Carl.”
Carl set his flour-covered hands on the counter. “What can I get you guys?”
“Large pizza, the works.” Beau held up two fingers. “Two iced teas.”
“Coming right up.” He pointed deeper into the restaurant. “Grab a table. I’ll send someone over with your teas.”
Beau ushered Dawn along the center aisle to the back of the dining room. Students and families occupied most of the orange booths and tables. He passed a collection of faded pictures on the walls of food selections served in the restaurant. Ceiling fans spun while images of coke floats and ice cream sundaes hung from the fluorescent light fixtures.
Dawn selected an empty booth right in the middle of the dining area, much to Beau’s dismay.
He preferred to keep a low profile in public, not wanting anything to get back to his father, but she would have none of it.
Dawn scooted into the booth. “Carl Jr. must be happy he will have this place to take over one day.” She scoured the faces of other diners. “Like you will take over the brewery and your father’s businesses.”
Beau slid in next to her, aggravated by the reminder of his father’s plans. He hated thinking of a life stuck at the brewery. In five years, he envisioned himself no better off than Carl Bucelli Jr.—trapped in a dead-end job and under his old man’s thumb.
The front glass doors opened just as the streetlamps outside came on. In a pair of black boots, wearing a high cut skirt and tight white T-shirt, Sara Bissell walked in.
She caught his eye, not for her looks but for how he craved to change them. To wipe the thick makeup away, blacken her eyes and split her bottom lip. Show her he was more than a man to be flirted with.
Around her was a gaggle of girls, dressed in similarly revealing clothes and with just as much makeup. Beau’s appetite waned when Sara spotted him. The smile she gave him did nothing to arouse his passion, only his fury.
“That bitch is here,” Dawn muttered.
He patted her thigh. “Play it cool.”
Sara sashayed by their booth, her eyes connected with Beau.
“I’m gonna kill her.” Dawn shimmied toward him, pushing him out of the booth.
He had to make Sara pay for rattling Dawn. Things were tense enough for him at home without adding this to his pile of bullshit.
He refused to move. “Baby, you need to calm down. I told you there was nothing with her.”
Dawn gave another big push. “I don’t believe you. Get me out of here.”
He wanted to talk her into staying, so everyone would see they were cool. But he recognized the angry glint in her eyes and held up his hands.
“All right. We’ll go.”
Beau grabbed her hand and headed for the door.
A voice behind them called, “Leaving so soon, Beau?”
He turned around. Sara winked at him. He prayed Dawn didn’t see it, but out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the open-mouthed shock.
Dawn was about to take a step toward Sara’s table when he wrapped her in his arms and carried her out of the restaurant.
A mixture of ohs, ahs, and applause followed them out the door.
“Put me down!”
He ignored her and didn’t stop until he reached the safety of his car, hidden in the shadows at the edge of the lot.
He deposited her by the passenger door. “Are you insane?”
Dawn attempted to get around him to head back inside. “Did you see her winking at you?”
“So what?” He held out his arms, blocking her way back into Carl’s. “That’s no reason to act crazy. There were a lot of people in there. How long do you think it would have been before the whole town heard about your little run in? How would I explain that to my dad? You know how he’s up my ass about how I present myself in public.” He gripped her right upper arm, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. “Damn it, Dawn, do you have no self-control?”
She tried to back away, but he only squeezed harder. “You’re hurting me.”
Her pale face became Leslie’s. She smirked up at him, egging him on. His fingers cinched tighter, tingling with excitement.
“Beau!” a voice called across the lot.
Beau let her go, and she pressed up against the car; fear pinked her cheeks and her blue eyes watered.
Carl Jr. came running up to them. “Is there a problem?”
His anger cooled when his gaze settled on the man’s flour-covered jeans and red apron. Was this his future? Every day for the rest of his life in slacks and a button-down shirt, stinking of beer just like his old man?
“No, no problem, Carl.” Beau gestured to the restaurant. “I’m sorry we can’t stay. I’ve got to get Dawn home.”
“You want me to get your order to go?” Carl asked.
Beau wasn’t about to wait around and give Dawn another chance to confront Sara. He’d had enough of both girls for one night.
Anxious to get her home, he reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet.
He slipped Carl a fifty-dollar bill. “Give our order to someone else. Next time, I promise we’ll stay and eat.”
Carl crumbled the bill in his hand. “I’ll take care of you, Beau.”
After Carl Jr. slipped inside, Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but Beau took her hand. “Don’t say another word.”
He put her in the car and slammed her passenger side door.
Once he peeled out of the parking lot, his fury shifted from Dawn to Sara. She had jeopardized everything with her brassy attitude.
Bitch is gonna pay—big time.
“We could have at least waited for our order.”
Dawn’s high-pitched voice intruded on a daydream of tying Sara to the pipes in the wall of his cell.
“What are you talking about?”
“You paid for our food. Why not wait for it? Running out like that just seems silly.”
He hit the gas, needing to get her home and out of his hair. “You’d better be thankful I got you out of there before you did something stupid. Otherwise, Sara would probably be calling the cops and filing charges against you.”
“For what?” Her half-hearted laugh irritated him. “Calling her whore? Threatening to rip out her hair? That’s what I wanted to do.”
“Then you would have committed assault, Dawn.” He gripped the wheel, holding in his admonishment. “For being the daughter of an attorney, you’re not too bright.”
Her eyes widened, and she got that shocked deer-in-headlights look he hated. It meant a fight was coming.
“If you hadn’t been hanging around that slut Saturday night, this wouldn’t have happened!”
Beau punched the steering wheel. “I didn’t do anything with Sara!”
She flinched and retreated into her seat.
For the first time, a taut expression of fear distorted Dawn’s face. She clenched her hands, her knuckles showing white against his sienna leather seats, and hugged the door as if she would jump out at any moment.
Beau had gone too far. He’d let his anger show. His hand throbbed. With the pain came the regret.
Keep it together. She can’t see you. Not yet.
“I’m sorry.” He sat back in his seat, keeping his eyes on the road. “I lost my temper back there and I shouldn’t have. But with Sara and you about to go after each other ... I should have handled that better.”
She moved back into her seat, settling down, and rubbed the red mark on her upper arm. “No, I should have ignored her, like you said.” Her gaze softened and her clenched hands relaxed. “She just seemed awfully interested for someone you just said hello to.”
“Forget about her.” Beau put on a pleasing grin, wanting to assure her all was well. “Do you really believe I would want to go out with a slut like her?”
“No.” A slight smile returned to her lips, but her eyes remained apprehensive. “I’m sorry I was a witch at the restaurant. I promise to do better.”
In the beginning, her sweet disposition and promises to do whatever he wanted—be the girl he needed and follow his rules—had pleased him. Now, they grated on his nerves. Perhaps it was time to shake things up with her.
“You can make it up to me at the river this weekend. There are some things I want to try with you.”
Her smile slipped. “Ah, I have to go to the lake house this weekend. My dad is being a real pain in the butt about having a family weekend. So, I can’t hang out at the river with you.”
The pang of regret in his gut didn’t last long. There were others he could have fun with.
“I’m going to miss you.”
She leaned across the console. “Promise to keep out of trouble and away from Sara Bissell while I’m gone.”
He made his smile appear genuine; years of practice had taught him how to deceive people.
“I won’t have anything to do with her.”
The lie pleased her, but he questioned how anyone could be so trusting. Leslie would never have believed him.
His sour mood lifted. With Dawn out of his hair, his weekend looked bright.
Perhaps an evening with Sara is what I need.
Beau punched the accelerator. He would invite Sara to join him at the river and bring her to the cells. There, he would exact his revenge for the shitstorm she’d brought down on him. With Sara, he could try something new—and dangerous.
* * *
The vroom of Beau’s engine carried up her sidewalk as he pulled away from the curb. The stars popped out in the sky above, and the lights from the other houses on her street cast a protective glow, chasing away the encroaching darkness.
But the tranquil ambiance did little to offset the unease raging inside her. Stunned by Beau’s treatment at Carl’s, Dawn didn’t understand what had happened to the gentleman she had known.
She turned from the street and walked up the path to her front door, her upper arm still stinging from where he had held her. She checked the spot again. His red fingerprints remained.
She’d seen another side of him tonight. She knew he had a temper, but this had been different. It was as if he had unleashed a fury that scared her to death.
I bet Leslie doesn’t have to deal with this crap with Derek.
The comparison brought her to a standstill on her porch steps. She admired the warm lights coming from the windows of the other homes and considered her relationship with Beau as compared to the one Leslie had with Derek.
They never seemed to fight, have problems with other girls, or even argue about their future. They were always laughing, talking, and happy together. Derek didn’t push Leslie to have sex. Derek never wanted to party with his friends. He was always kind to her.
Maybe I picked the wrong guy.
Weak at the thought of a life without Beau, she sat on the steps. For the first time since seeing his face in the hallways of St. Benedict High, Dawn had reservations about continuing with Beau Devereaux. She’d dreaded the coming weekend at the lake house, but part of her wanted an opportunity to think.
What is happening to me?
It was the first indication her feelings for Beau might not be what they seemed. Had what she believed to be love been something else? A little time away from Beau could help her get some perspective. Perhaps even consider calling off the whole thing. Playing by his rules wasn’t as fun as it used to be. It was time to create some rules of her own.
