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Crickets chirped and mist curled around him as Beau eased out of the crack in the wall to the cells. The chill in the air teased his sweaty skin, but the surge of power pounding through his blood was like liquid fire.
The rush consumed him. He knew in that instant he would find another victim, but his rational mind begged him to be careful.
Don’t get caught.
He chuckled. Besides the money, his father still had hefty political clout in Baton Rouge, thanks to his notorious grandfather and years of murky business dealings. The family name had spared him in the past from legal proceedings and institutions. It would again.
Heading toward the fountain across the grassy field, Beau considered his next night of fun. Before he reached the forgotten angel, a flash in the corner of his eye made him turn.
Amid the trees, crowding the edge of the property, something darted in and out. He could just make out a long, white hooded cloak, fluttering and billowing at the edge of the woods. Then it disappeared.
His heart rocketed to his throat. It can’t be!
All the stories he’d heard of the lady in white of The Abbey came rushing back at once, intensifying his panic.
Then he calmed. Someone had to be messing with him. It wasn’t the girl. Kelly had taken off, a bawling mess, across the field several minutes before and he’d heard the slam of the iron gate. He was alone. Unless ... the guys had pulled a fast one on him.
But the guys don’t know about your room in the cells.
Beau cut across the grass, anxious to get to the iron gate and back to the party. Almost to the path, he glanced back over his shoulder to the patch of trees where he had seen the ghostly presence. Nothing was there.
It was just your imagination. Or was it?
He made it to the party at the beach, relieved to be back among people, but the incident with the ghost had eradicated his high.
He hungered for it to return but would have to wait.
The music had stopped, the revelers had thinned, and those who were left were packing up to go. Most had midnight curfews, including Beau.
He set out across the sand, avoiding numerous bottles and piles of trash in his path. His heels angrily dug in as he walked. Beau was ready to collect Mitch and Josh and head out to make his curfew. He searched the weary faces around him until he spotted the black curls and broad shoulders of his friend.
Mitch sat on a picnic bench and chugged a beer. Two girls slept curled up next to him.
“Dude, what’s this?” He slapped Mitch’s knee and waved to the girls.
His friend lifted his beer to his lips, appearing unfazed. “They passed out a while ago.”
He leaned over and checked their faces. “Who are they?”
“Beverly.” Mitch got up and wobbled slightly, pointing to a slim brunette sleeping next to him. “And Lindsey. The Covington High girls, remember?”
Josh stumbled forward, coming from the bushes and tugging on his zipper.
“We were about to go look for you. It’s getting late.”
Beau ran his hands through his hair, his anger creeping upward. “Let’s get out of here.” He lowered his voice, mindful of the others around them. “I’ve got to get home to make my curfew. My old man will pitch a fit if I’m late.”
“Where have you been?” Mitch asked, tossing his empty bottle to the sand. “I don’t remember seeing you around.”
Beau picked up the bottle. “How could you with all those shots you did? Besides, you were busy.” Beau motioned to the unconscious girls. “What did you give them? They’re out cold.”
“Wine.” Josh wiped a bit of sand from his shirt, grinning. “Thanks for the tip.”
“I said tipsy, not dead drunk.” Beau tossed the bottle to a garbage can several feet away, making it in on the first try.
Mitch glanced behind him to the river. “Where’s that Kelly girl? I saw you heading off with her. You make it with her?”
Beau’s heart sped up, remembering her whimpers as he raped her, but he downplayed his encounter to avoid unwanted attention.
“She wasn’t my type. I left her by one of the bonfires.”
“You should have given Kelly some wine.” Josh snickered and stumbled, almost falling to the ground before Mitch caught him.
Lindsey sat up, weaving as she held her head. “Wait? Kelly left us?” She looked around the beach. “How are we supposed to get home? She was our ride.”
Josh helped her from the bench. “Beau will take you home.”
Beau’s cheeks burned. He was ready to kill. “I’ve got to make my curfew.”
Lindsey wobbly sashayed up to Beau, going for sexy but came across as pathetic. Still very drunk, she rubbed up against him.
“I’ll do anything you want if you give me a ride home.”
Beau pushed her away. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
His phone rang with a rap ringtone. He checked the caller ID and frowned. Dawn. Probably to check up on him. She had also left one text. He returned the phone to his back pocket. He would deal with her later.
Josh put his hand on Beau’s shoulder. “What do we do with the girls? We can’t just leave them.”
Lindsey wrapped her arms around Josh’s thick neck. “Take me home with you.”
There were times his friends were more trouble than they were worth, but if he left the girls behind, people might hear about it. Best not to make waves and keep up appearances—just like his old man wanted.
“Get the girls. Carry them if you have to.” Beau moved back toward the path leading to the parking lot. “I’ll drive them home.”
“But they live in Covington?” Mitch objected while following him. “It will take you another hour at least, and you’ve got your curfew.”
“We can’t leave them here.” Beau checked the clock on his phone. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly.”
“My hero.” Lindsey left Josh and went to him, slipping her arms around his neck.
Her foul breath and slutty behavior sickened him. He wanted to slap her away and kick her senseless to teach her a lesson. Instead, he peeled her off him and pushed her back at Josh.
“It’s time to go.”
Once the girls were safely in his car with Josh and Mitch nestled in beside them, Beau headed out of the parking lot and turned on to the dimly lit road.
The trees whipped by as he picked up speed, creating undulating shadows reminiscent of the odd presence he had seen by The Abbey. Had someone meant to frighten him? But who? The drunk ramblings of Josh and Mitch intruded on his thoughts; their hyena-like laughter grated on his nerves.
They act like stupid boys.
The evening exemplified the difference between boys and men. Boys, like Josh and Mitch, chased girls who drank too much and gave in easily to their demands. But Beau was a man. He no longer had interest in a woman who surrendered. He wanted her to struggle, to cry, to beg, to resist, to scream—just like Kelly had.
* * *
Beau sighed as he quietly shut the glass doors to the mudroom and stepped into the rear hall of his parents’ home. The exterior security lights filtered through the hall windows as he crept past the kitchen—the clock on the microwave read almost two.
Don’t get caught. Gage will kill you!
In the main hall, all the lights were out. Even his father’s study was dark. He tiptoed, holding his black tennis shoes, not trusting them on the old hardwood floor. Years of sneaking around at night had taught him where to walk on so as not to create a single sound.
Once he made it up the curved oak staircase, he peered into the darkness, searching for lights.
Fortunately, everyone appeared to be asleep. Beau snuck into his bedroom and shut the door.
He flipped on the light and looked around, studying the ornate mahogany trundle bed, high dresser with brass features, the carved desk with lions’ heads on the corners, and the widescreen plasma TV he’d insisted on. But the posters of Bugatti cars and svelte Victoria’s Secret models on his walls seemed childish. He would make some changes. It was time for his outsides to reflect his newfound insides.
After tossing his sand-encrusted tennis shoes aside, Beau crawled into his bed without removing his dusty jeans or long-sleeved shirt. He set his cell phone on his night table and wrapped his comforter around him. A light rapping came from his door.
Beau turned on his bedside lamp. “What is it?”
The door creaked open and his mother stepped inside. “You’re home past your curfew.”
After a ragged sigh, he raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was making sure some drunk girls got home in Covington. I couldn’t let them drive.”
Elizabeth walked into the room. “Is that the truth?”
Beau cringed. “Yes, it’s the truth! I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“You’ve been acting the way you used to—the rages, the tantrums. Now you’re coming in late and shouting at me.” Elizabeth gripped the edge of his bed. “Ever since this school year began, you haven’t been the same.”
He took in her bloodshot eyes, disgusted by the sight. “I’m surprised you noticed anything was different with me.”
She tugged at the lapels of her yellow robe. “Don’t push me. I went along with your father last time. He buried the incident under his money and connections. But do it again, and I won’t remain silent.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” He didn’t hide his bitterness. “Every day you remind me with a look or a gesture.” Beau tossed off his comforter. “You spend your days in the bottom of a whiskey bottle so you don’t have to confront your son.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me that way.”
“What? Have I offended your sense of decency? That’s a laugh.” He got up and went to her. “People are talking about you. The sad little wife of Gage Devereaux. You know how he feels about his precious family name. I guarantee he will get rid of you long before he ever pushes me out the door.”
“God, you’re just like your father.” She backed away from him. “You even sound like him when you attack me.”
“Then lay off the booze.” He returned to his bed, wanting to end the conversation. “Find a man. It will get your mind off me.”
Elizabeth rushed up to him, her fists tucked into her sides. “Does Dawn know about you? Has she seen the real Beau Devereaux? I’d hoped that poor girl was getting through to you, but she isn’t, is she? Should I warn her to keep the family dog out of your reach? I can tell her what you did to mine.”
You bitch!
The rush of adrenaline forced Beau from the bed. He charged her, wanting to break her skinny little neck, but he refrained. The fear in her eyes delighted him. It gave him a rush, just like he got with Kelly and Taylor.
“If you ever say anything to Dawn, I’ll kill you.”
Elizabeth wasn’t like his high school girls. Her fear faded and a steadfast resolve replaced it.
“Yes, I believe you would.” She raised her head, becoming the society maven she always liked to portray. “I won’t tell your father you were out past your curfew. He has enough on his mind.”
He tempered his anger, not wanting to give his mother the upper hand. “I doubt he’d care.” Beau strutted back to his bed. “All he needs is an heir for his empire, not a son.”
Elizabeth gave him a stern rebuke with her cold eyes and then slipped out the door.
His head pounded after the confrontation. She always did that—enraged him to the point of madness. Ever since he could remember, he’d hated his mother.
Back in bed, he tried to sleep, but her comments lingered, and restless energy chased away his fatigue.
Unable to close his eyes, he turned to his cell phone. He snatched it up and read Dawn’s missed call notice. Perhaps talking with her would help him settle down.
“Beau?” She sounded groggy after picking up. “Why are you calling so late?”
He lay back on his bed, his hand under his head, his calm returning.
What would she like him to say?
“I missed you tonight. I wanted to hear your voice.”
“I miss you, too.” Dawn’s voice melted like butter over a flame. “Are you just getting home?”
“Yeah, Josh and Mitch met some girls at the river from Covington High. They were too drunk to drive home, so I took them. Made me miss my curfew.”
“What did your folks say?”
“It’s all good.” He added a boastful lilt to his voice. “I have to set an example for the other kids in school.”
She sighed into the phone. “You’re a good guy, Beau Devereaux. Did you have fun at the river? Please tell me Sara Bissell wasn’t there.”
“She was there.” He checked his fingernails in the light, thinking ahead, finding the right words to set his plan into motion. “I put her in her place when she tried hitting on me. She won’t be messing with you or me anymore.”
“What did you do?”
Her curiosity elicited a grin.
“I let everyone know what a slut she is. Hitting on me when I have a girlfriend, and not caring what she did with any of the guys at the river. I heard she went off with a couple of them.”
“Wow.” Dawn giggled and he smiled at the sound. “Wish I could have been there to see that. Her rep will be dirt come Monday.”
Done with the subject of Sara, he searched for something to keep her talking. “Are you having a good time at the lake?”
“I’m enjoying myself. Leslie and I are actually getting along, if you can believe it. My parents are happy about that.”
The mention of her sister set off alarm bells in his head. He sat up, his restlessness rebounding.
“What have you and Leslie been talking about?”
“Nothing much really. It’s been cool spending time with her again.”
Leslie in her ear was a bad thing. He didn’t want Leslie’s insubordination rubbing off on Dawn. He needed her compliant for a while longer.
“When are you coming home?”
“Sometime tomorrow night. We’re going out on the boat in the morning.”
“That sounds like fun.” It didn’t, but he figured it was what she would want to hear. “Wish I was there.”
“I wish you were, too. If you go back to the river, behave please.”
“I’m always good, baby.” Beau tapped his finger on the bed, anticipating another night of fun. “After last night, I don’t think the boys will be ready to party too much. They hit it pretty hard.”
Dawn yawned again. “I’d better get back to sleep. I love you, Beau.”
He hesitated, not sure what to tell her. Beau didn’t love Dawn, but he didn’t see the point in telling her that. He needed her for a little while longer.
“I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
Beau hung up with images of Leslie revolving in his head. When he told her how he felt, she would be on her knees, begging for him to hurt her, wanting to feel his hands around her throat.
That’s real love. And she’s gonna know it very soon.
