Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
I watched as Beau quickly stripped his clothes off, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor. He was a beautiful man—broad shoulders, thick biceps, flat stomach that led to a thick, hard cock. And though my core throbbed at the sight, I had no desire to be fucked tonight.
I needed comfort. Not sex. And I knew Beau understood that. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest a shower to warm me up once I was no longer crumbling to pieces in his hands.
“Come on,” he coaxed, holding his hand out to me. Our palms connected, and his fingers curled around mine, his warmth seeping into my chilled hand and racing up my arm to swirl around my heart. A soft sigh left my lips, but if Beau heard it, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he just helped me into the shower. When his arms circled my waist and pulled my body flush against his, I melted. Between the hot water pounding on my back and his heat pressing to the front of my body, I’d never felt warmer in my life.
“I think you need to see their graves, goldie,” he said softly, his chin resting on my head.
I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. He brushed his lips to the top of my head. “Mikayla, you need to. Have you even been to see them since the funeral?”
I shook my head. I’d actually never seen their graves. “I didn’t go,” I rasped. God, my throat felt raw from all the crying I’d done. Tipping my head back, I swallowed some of the hot water, letting it soothe my throat. I jumped a tiny bit in surprise when Beau wrapped his hand around my throat. My eyes flashed to his, my jaw snapped closed.
“We’re going tomorrow,” he told me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he tightened his hold just enough to shut me up. “I’ll call Adler as soon as we get out of the shower and let him know I won’t be in for work. We’re going, goldie. I don’t care if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming. You’ve got to find closure.”
My lips trembled, and my eyes blurred with tears once again, but none of them fell. “I’m not ready.”
He pulled me back to him, his arms circling back around me. “You’re never going to be,” he said softly. “You just have to do it.”
I leaned with Beau as he took a curve. The wind was whipping my braid behind me and washing over my skin. I’d never been on a bike before, but it was freeing. More free than I’d ever felt in my life. And I suddenly understood why this was Beau’s preferred method of transportation.
There was something about being on this bike that made me feel like I was leaving all of my worries and troubles behind me. And damn if I didn’t need that.
The world passed by me in a blur of color through the visor over my face. It was beautiful the way all the greens, reds, and browns mixed together with the blue of the sky. A painter would be willing to die to capture this kind of beauty on a canvas, and I was seeing it in real-time.
The bike began to slow, and then Beau eased through the cemetery gates. My gut cramped, everything I thought I’d been leaving behind slamming into me with enough force to expel the breath from my lungs.
I wasn’t ready for this.
Trying to keep from vomiting inside of my helmet, I pointed to show Beau which way to go to get to their plots. Just because I hadn’t attended their funeral didn’t mean I didn’t know where they were resting. I’d stared at that map so many times, it was burned into my brain.
Once we eased to a stop, I slid the helmet off my head. A tear ran down my cheek as I stared at their headstones. They were a dull gray color and already in need of cleaning. The flowers that had been put there by those who actually attended the funeral were long since dead, and no new flowers had been put out for them. Their plot was overgrown with weeds.
I was such a terrible daughter.
I slid off the bike and walked over to the plot on feet that no longer felt like mine. With trembling fingers, I crouched and traced their names, a sob bubbling up in my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” I croaked. “I’m so sorry I’ve neglected you.”
My knees weakened, and I fell back on my ass, silent tears streaking down my cheeks. I curled my hands into fists, my nails biting into my palms. My chest ached with their loss.
“Here,” Beau said softly as he took a seat behind me, his thighs cradling me on either side. He held a liquor bottle in front of my face. “How does getting shit-faced and working through this sound?”