Chasing My Forever (Beaumont: Next Generation 3)

I want to scream, hit, throw, and do every other violent thing I can think of right now. That’s the only reaction I can have because words will not do any justice, not after everything that’s happened to me. I don’t even know where to begin. The beginning and the middle of this is so convoluted, and the ending is heartbreaking. I gave up the woman I’m in love with because of these two people. I read the letter again, and again, seeking out words that aren’t there. I don’t know what I’m looking for, an answer, a reason, an explanation as to why they would treat me like this. Nothing. Not a single clue.

“Are you Quinn James?” I don’t even look at who’s asking.

“Not right now,” I tell them. I don’t want to sign autographs or take pictures. I want to be left alone. Except they don’t get the hint and pull the chair out across from me. I look up to find an unfamiliar face, which isn’t shocking, glaring at me. “May I help you?”

She sticks her hand out. “I’m Kellie Macauley. Eleanora is my friend, she was my roommate while living here.” I shake her hand slowly while replaying her words.

“What do you mean, was?”

“She’s moved home, back to South Carolina.”

“Oh.”

She nods and leans forward. “Listen, I’m not going to pretend I understand everything that went down. One minute she tells me she’s leaving, the next she’s staying because she’s fallen in love, and then she’s gone, calling me from the road in hysterics, filling me in on everything.

“First thing I want to say, she didn’t know you were Sofia’s brother.”

“So, I’ve been told,” I tell her. I don’t know her, but I show her the letter, watching as she reads it. Her mouth drops open and she lets out a string of colorful words that don’t bear repeating.

“This sounds about right. I showed Eleanora the picture Sofia posted. I always thought she wasn’t right upstairs, but I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” I mumble, folding the letter and putting it in my pocket. My coffee and food arrive, and I offer half the plate to Kellie, who happily digs in. “Why are you here?”

“Because Eleanora’s in love with you.”

“Oh.”

“And while I know she lied about a few things...”

“One rather important thing, don’t you think?”

She shrugs. “Roy’s a douche… I’m assuming you’re talking about the fiancé?” I nod. “Yeah, figured. Do you remember when you called and asked her out, but she had plans?” I nod again. “She broke up with him for good. They weren’t really together, but she made sure to end things because she really liked you.”

“Oh.”

“Right,” she says in between putting tater tot hash browns in her mouth. “Anyway, the name thing. She was just trying to reinvent herself here. Her parents are really southern, and she was trying to break the mold.”

“Oh,” I say again.

She nods, dips the tot in mustard and points it at me. “You’re a man of few words, I see.”

“Yeah, well I’m shocked, confused, and a bit angry at the moment.”

“Do you love her? You know what, don’t answer that.” She picks up my pen and writes something down on the napkin. “This is where you’ll find her.” Kellie slides the white paper toward me and stands. “Oh, and she’s pregnant.”

This time my mouth drops open. I try to call out to Kellie, but she’s already gone. I reach for my phone and scroll through my contacts only to realize I ditched my phone and got a new one after everything happened. I don’t have Nola’s number. Instead, I call my dad and as soon as he answers, I say, “I need the plane.”

As long as I live I will never take for granted the fact that the band has a personal plane. It’s rare that I use it,

but for times like this, I didn’t want to wait for a commercial flight. The flight east seemed to take forever, even though I know it didn’t. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than the fact that Kellie said Nola’s pregnant. I never stopped to think the baby couldn’t be mine because why would her friend tell me if that’s the case? And I have no idea what I’m going to do when I see her.

The driver of the car service has stopped. After a few seconds, he drops the window between us. “Are you sure you mean the Boone Plantation?”

“Is that the address on the paper I gave you?”

“Yes, Sir. It seems the Boones are having a wedding. Would you still like me to stop?”

A wedding. Fiancé. Baby. I bolt out of the car and run down the white gravel road, which is covered by massive oak trees and Spanish moss. The immense two-story home looms in front of me as I run toward it. A man in a tuxedo puts his hands out to stop me, but I brush by him, determined to stop this wedding. She’s not marrying some other man because she’s pregnant. I can’t let that happen. I follow the voices echoing from the side of the house. I can see tops of heads and a gazebo, but nothing else.