Southern Storm (Southern 3)

“Let’s go,” Jacob says. I walk as fast as I can to the truck, but my body feels like it was run over by a Mack truck. I close my eyes in the truck, and when we get to Beau’s house, he doesn’t even let me walk. Instead, he carries me inside, and I don’t even have the energy to fight with him.

He walks to the couch and places me down in the corner and then looks over at Jacob. “Grab me a water bottle,” he says.

“And some whiskey!” I shout at him, and then Beau glares at me. Jacob comes back with the water, and he sits down on the couch facing us. I love this family room. When we were picking out the couches, I didn’t want to get up because it was perfect for this room. “Thank you,” I say, grabbing the water and then looking at them. “Okay, what are you two thinking about?”

“The bar, the bricks in the house, the phone calls,” Beau starts. “It’s all related.”

“What phone calls?” Jacob asks, and I roll my eyes.

“It’s nothing,” I say the same time Beau talks.

“Started last night, calling and hanging up.” I drink another sip of water, really wishing it was something more.

Jacob gets his phone out, and he starts typing. “I just texted Casey to start tracing your phone.”

“Oh my God,” I groan. “It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Beau shouts. “None of this is fine. And it all started as soon as I found out that …”

“Don’t say it.” I point at him. “Don’t you say it.”

“It could be my brother,” Beau says, his voice almost breaking. “Or better yet, my father.”

“Your father wouldn’t get his hands dirty,” Jacob says. “But he would order it.”

“You guys, I think you are overthinking this,” I tell them, not ready to believe that he would actually harm me. I mean, destroy my life, yes, but harm Ethan and me? He wouldn’t … or would he?

“She needs protection,” Jacob says.

“She needs more than that,” Beau says, and I look at him. “They won’t touch you if you’re mine,” he says, and I don’t even know if I heard him right or not. “The only way this is going to stop is for us to get married.”

Chapter Seventeen

Beau

“Married.” I don’t even realize the words coming out of my mouth until I hear Savannah gasp. The last couple of day were shitty, with my car windows getting busted, and then my heart stopped when I was in the car with Grady. The whole time we drove to the scene, I was making deals with God about everything. I would tell her how I feel if she was okay. I would take care of her and protect her. Once we arrived at the scene, I was stuck; my legs didn’t move. The sight of two ambulances with their lights on, the fire truck, and then I saw her truck in the ditch with the front end smashed, and it just was like a knife to my stomach.

“Married?” Savannah whispers.

“Holy shit.” I hear Jacob, and he leans back into the couch, waiting to see what else I will say.

“My brother is an asshole,” I start, sitting down. “My father is a fucking coward, but …” I hold up my hands. “No one will mess with you if you have my name.”

“Married,” she says again, and I don’t know if she is asking me a question or simply just in shock. “To you?” I try not to let it hurt that this idea is probably her worst nightmare.

“To me,” I say, swallowing down. “Think about it.”

“It’s not the stupidest idea he’s ever had,” Jacob says. “It will finally get the town to stop fucking talking about you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Savannah says, turning and wincing when she gets up. “This is going to get them to stop talking about me. Poor Beau, he had no choice but to marry her.”

“They are not going to say that,” I say, and I hope she isn’t right. “Listen, for as long as they remember, we’ve been friends. We could say that seeing you in the accident jolted something inside me, and I professed my love for you,” I say, trying to convince her without her knowing that this is exactly why I’m doing this. I want her as mine. I want to take care of her and protect her.

She sits back down. “This is a nightmare,” she says, rubbing her hands over her face. “What about Ethan?”

“What about him?” I ask. “I love him like he is my own, regardless of anything.” My voice goes low, and she reaches over to grab my hand.

“I know that,” she says, “but don’t you think this will confuse him?”

“I don’t think so,” Jacob finally says. “It’s not like he’s a stranger. It’s Beau.”