I go to her, slipping the stick in my back pocket, and take her face in my palms. Take in every inch of her. Her hair. Her eyes. Her flawless skin. The glow. And I kiss her. It tells her more than I could ever put into words.
“Finish it, Danny,” she says round my mouth, taking my wrists and gripping me hard. She breaks my kiss. The resolve in her eyes matches the intensity of how I feel. “I’m not raising our baby in Miami.”
I nod. Received loud and clear. Whatever she wants. Shit, what the hell is happening? Overwhelmed, I drop to my knees, kneeling before her, worshipping her like the goddess she is, and hug her stomach, feeling her hands stroking through my hair, softly massaging at my scalp. And I stay there for a long, long time, my face pressed into her tummy, my purpose renewed.
I eventually rise, kissing my way to her face. “I have to go.”
She nods, tracing a line down my scar. “I know,” she whispers. “We’ll be here.”
We. We’ll be here. I grin and smother her with my mouth, making her giggle and writhe in my clutches. “Go,” she orders, forcing me away, eager for me to see to business and come back to them. “I need to wash my face before I go downstairs and face everyone.”
I nod and head for the door.
“Danny?”
I look back. She has her index finger held against her lips. Quiet. Keep it quiet. I mirror her and leave, shutting the door quietly behind me. And I stand there, momentarily bewildered again. And suddenly worried. I pull out my phone, dial Doc, and get walking.
He answers quickly as I check my surroundings. I see Tank in the foyer, Fury at the top of the stairs, Beau’s aunt coming out of her room. Too many fucking people in my house. “I’ll call you back,” I say quietly, hanging up just as Beau appears, her hair wet, her signature ripped jeans and baggy shirt ensemble gracing her fit body. She falters, gathering her hair into a ponytail when she sees me, her expression unsure. It would be highly inappropriate, given what she’s been through, to show even an ounce of happiness. Besides, I’m still raging mad with her. “Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”
She rolls her eyes. It’s condescending. It’s rude. It’s fucking brave. “Don’t start, Danny. I have my own stone-cold killer to handle, thanks.” Her head tilts, and the slow formation of a smile appears. “She is, isn’t she?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turn and get on my way, only letting my smile loose when my face is out of her view.
“It’s great news,” she says softly.
I stop, my heart sinking. She’s happy for us. Her words were quiet, but there could be no doubting her sincerity. Jesus. I walk back to her and Beau, alarmed, slowly backs away. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I need to do this. I haul her into my chest. The poor thing has no idea what to do with me, her arms hanging limp by her sides. “I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing my eyes closed.
“Don’t make this about me, Danny,” she breathes. “This is about you two, and it’s happy.”
“You need to go fix things with James.”
“He’s not talking to me.”
“Are you surprised?” I pull out, holding her firmly by the tops of her arms. “If Rose had of pulled a stunt like that, I would—”
“What?” she asks, head tilted. “You would what?”
Good fucking question. “I’d put her in a cage.” It’s the first thing that comes to me, and Beau laughs, shrugging me off.
“Okay,” she says, shaking her head. “Go take care of business, Danny. I need to go check on my friend.” She backs away, eyebrows high. “My pregnant friend.”
Fuck, that sounds good. “You do that.” And I need to call Doc back. I walk on but something comes to me. “Wait, Beau,” I call, looking back. “You’ve not talked to James at all?”
“No, I need to cool off.”
I laugh under my breath. She does? James looked like he was one spark away from exploding. So he’s not grilled her? Got any details? “What was Kenny Spittle doing in Walmart?”
“He was at the Minute Key Kiosk.”
I nod, thoughtful. “And when you had him at gunpoint, what did you ask and what did he tell you?”
“He said he was being blackmailed with his father’s life. Get the box or his dad dies.”
Well, that’s a shitter. “So he got the box for . . .”
“Someone.”
“Contact?”
“Text.”
“And that’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it. My interrogation was interrupted.” She smiles sweetly as she lets herself into Rose’s and my room, and I laugh under my breath as I go to the top of the stairs, signaling for Fury and Tank to take up their positions. They’re quick to respond, Fury looking plain terrified. He should. I can’t promise him James isn’t going to shoot him for losing Beau.