Page 118 of Shattered Promise

My girl is pregnant.

She’s alone out there, in a storm, probably scared—after I told her she didn’t belong to us. That Theo wasn’t hers.

I’m such a fucking asshole.

I lunge for my phone and dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

A cold sweat breaks out beneath my shirt. I try again and still nothing. This time, I leave a message, voice ragged.

“Baby, it’s me. Please call when you get this. Please come back.”

But even as I hang up, I know I’m not waiting around.

Forty minutes later, I’m pounding on Beau’s front door like it owes me answers.

Rain needles down in hard, slanted sheets. Thunder booms low and heavy. I shift Theo higher against my chest, hunching over him, keeping his head covered as I bang again.

The porch light flips on. The door swings open.

“Mase?” Beau blinks at me, confused. His eyes drop to Theo before flicking back to my face. Whatever he sees there has his smile falling from his face like it was never there. “Jesus. Come inside.”

Inside, the house is bright and close and smells like warm bread and Eloise’s vanilla candle, same as always. For a split second, it could be a normal night. But I don’t let go of Theo, not even to strip off my jacket. My fingers are locked, white-knuckled, around the curve of his back, and he clings to my collar, the way he does when he’s half-asleep.

Beau stares at me for a beat. Then without a word, he takes my elbow—harder than he means to, I think—and pulls me all the way into the kitchen.

Eloise is at the counter, breaking chunks off of a cinnamon roll. She looks up, startled, when we enter. “Everything okay?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. There’s too much to say and none of it will fit.

Beau answers for me, “Not yet. But we’re gonna fix it.” He gestures to the table. “Sit,” he says.

I do. Theo melts into my lap, head heavy on my shoulder. I kiss the top of his hair and look at Eloise. “I need a favor.”

Eloise’s eyes flick back and forth between Theo and me, searching for an injury, accident, some bleeding—something she knows how to fix.

I shake my head once. “He’s fine,” I manage. My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. “But I need you to watch him for a little bit.”

“Alright. I’ll bring him to the living room. Vivie will be thrilled to help. She’s been trying to weasel her way into a later bedtime anyway.” She crosses the kitchen, gentle and sure, and I surrender my son to her arms.

“Thank you.”

She nods, and Theo stares back at me with wide, tired eyes. Like I haven’t failed him tonight.

“It’s alright, buddy. You’re okay,” I murmur, running my hand over his head.

He lays his head down on Eloise’s shoulder as she wanders out of the kitchen.

“Start talking,” Beau demands.

I take a breath. It’s now or never, and never isn’t an option. Not anymore. Not for me and her. We’re fucking fated, and I won’t let this or anyone—or thing—get in my way again.

“You remember the promise I made you in tenth grade?” I ask, voice shaking. The memory is a splinter in my head, sharp and stupid. But it matters now.

Beau’s brow goes up. “What promise?”

I look him dead in the eye. “About your sisters.”

His face goes stone still. “Jesus, Mase.”