Chapter 182

“I mean, agreed. But that doesn’t exactly explain… this.” I wave around at the massive mess Beau has made of Wyatt’s room.

“Doesn’t it?” Beau lifts a brow at me. “We’re renovating anyway. It makes little difference what happens to his stuff.”

“It’s just such a waste.” Though as I say it, I realize the concept is probably lost on someone like Beau. A guy who can have anything he wants at any time wouldn’t understand the concept of waste. Why not just buy another? That is more his speed. “The man isn’t his stuff.”

“Perhaps not, but it is gratifying all the same.”

Beau looks around the room. There isn’t much left that hasn’t been destroyed, but he still grabs a framed photo off a shelf. He lifts it up to smash it. I see it in that moment, and realize it’s a photo of Wyatt and his father, Isaac, my step-father, from a time before Mom and I came around.

Something stirs inside of me. Compassion maybe, or care for my step-father. Or at least for my mom who loves him so much. I don’t really know Isaac enough to properly like him, beyond knowing he is a good man who takes care of my mom and paid for me to come to this school.

So I reach out, and quickly say, “Not that.”

Beau stills his hand, though he doesn’t lower it. “Why not?”

“Isaac is a good man,” I say. I hold out my hand for the frame. I can’t walk closer in my socked feet without hurting myself. I will though, if I have to. Beau senses my gamble and lowers the frame. “Don’t blame him that his son turned out to be an asshole.”

“It’s usually the parents’ fault,” Beau says.

To try to make things lighter, I quip, “Is that your excuse?”

His shoes crunched over ceramic and glass as he approaches me. He holds my gaze and says, “Yes.” I meant it as a joke, but he answered me serious.

It was a bad joke, I guess. If your father is Alpha King Hayes, willing to poison his own son to prove a point, then yeah, you would have an excuse for how you turned out.

He holds out the frame for me and I accept it. In the photo, both Wyatt and Isaac are smiling. Isaac stands behind a much younger Wyatt, with his hands on Wyatt’s shoulders. They seemed like quite the pair back then.

Maybe this is part of why Wyatt hates me and Mom so much. We came in and swooped away his father. Suddenly, it went from father and son to a full family. Wyatt must be jealous. Angry. I know what that’s like.

It’s not an excuse for his behavior to me or my mom, but I guess it’s a reason. Sometimes having reasons helps make sense of senseless things.

“Wyatt has always been incompetent,” Beau says. I glance up at him and find him looking at the photo too. “And a dick. But then, couldn’t you also say the same thing about me?”

“That you are a dick, yes. Absolutely,” I say. “But incompetent?”

“I’m not without confidence, Chloe. I know I have my own set of specific talents that I excel at. And I’d likely have others if I cared to. But to my father, I am the one with the least expectations upon me. Steven will be a ground-breaking scientist. Neil, some CEO. Archer, a top warrior. Maybe even a general someday. But Beau? What will he be?”

“Whatever he wants,” I say. I don’t like to hear him talk about himself this way.

Beau laughs. It sounds a bit bitter. “You are soft on me, aren’t you?”

“Friends with benefits, remember?”

He hums.

That he doesn’t say a word about sex makes me realize how far into the darkness of his own mind he’s traveled. Before, I thought him wasteful for the sake of making a mess. Perhaps to relieve stress. But now I see it clearer: Wyatt hurt Beau. He hurt all the brothers.

They let him into their home. Made him their Beta. Whatever their initial reasons, he had become something like a confident. Or a friend.

And then Wyatt betrayed them all.

“Everyone always wants something from us,” Beau says, and though his voice doesn’t crack, I can still hear the hurt in it, making it soft.

“Beau,” I say. I hold my arms open, offering a moment of comfort.

Beau takes it. He steps closer, crunching more glass, and then folds into my arms. His own wrap around my waist. He lifts me off the ground and carries me just like that into the hallway. Then he lowers me onto my feet again but doesn’t let go.

We hold each other for a long moment. Eventually, I feel the tension slowly seep from Beau’s body.

I know he’s fully well again when he says, “Want to have sex on Wyatt’s bed?”

I pull back and playfully smack him on the arm. He’s grateful, because he pretends like it hurts, playing along.

After a while, I go in search of Mia. Archer is watching her today, but he’s not in his room. I head down to the nursery, and there I find him and Mia.

Archer is sitting on the ground beside Mia, with her on her play mat. An assortment of plastic animals are strewn across the floor. Mia is playing with the lion, but Archer keeps trying to switch it out with a wolf. Mia, however, seems entirely disinterested in the wolf.

I imagine the gray color to the wolf is unappealing compared to the lion’s bright red mane, but Archer keeps trying.

“It’s your lineage,” he says. “Wolves should be your favorite.”

When he reaches out to gently pry the lion from Mia’s hands, and from her mouth where she’s sucking on one of the legs, Mia starts to tear up. Archer notices at once and lets her have it.

He’s such a softie under his hard shell exterior.

He sighs as he lowers the wolf back to the pile. “You’ll understand someday,” he grumbles. “Damn cats…”

Mia giggles at Archer’s frustration, which makes him sigh again, more dramatically. She giggles again, louder.

My heart thuds hard in my chest. Compared to when I first arrived, seeing this change in him is like night and day. He always cared for Mia, but to actually sit and play with her like this…

“You might as well come in, Chloe,” Archer says. He hasn’t looked at me once that I’ve noticed.

Oh. Maybe he smelled me. All of the brothers seem to be able to recognize my scent so easily, no matter how many times I change my soap. Granted, I probably smell like Neil right now. And maybe Beau too.

Well, whatever. He knows I’m here so I might as well do as he says.

I enter the room and take a seat on Mia’s other side. She smiles big when she sees me. Then she holds out her lion for me to see.

“Yes,” I say. “He’s very handsome.”

“Don’t call a cat handsome,” Archer grumbles.

I roll my eyes.

We sit for a while, watching Mia as she plays. Another bittersweet feeling washes through me. I’m going to miss moments like this.

Archer, watching me, mistakes the reason for my gloom.

“Don’t worry,” he says to me. “We’ll catch Wyatt before long. And then we can more fully protect you.”

“What will you do to Wyatt when you catch him?” I ask.

Archer closes his mouth and doesn’t answer. It’s likely something gruesome then. Maybe they actually will but Wyatt through the wall.

I think of the photo Wyatt had in his room, of him as a child with Isaac. How bright their smiles were. How much Isaac still believes in his son.

“I don’t suppose you would consider mercy,” I say. “For the sake of my family?”