"Fine! But one of these days I'm going to build up enough immunity to those Sam Winchester puppy-dog eyes and be able to actually say no to you!"
No one can resist those Sam Winchester puppy dog eyes.
"What are you doing? HeyâY/N!" Dean jogged over and saw you tossing your gear into the trunk of your car. Sam wasn't far behind him.
"You're leaving?" Sam asked, eyeing your duffel bag already loaded and watching as you slammed the trunk. "We need you," he emphasized.
You fiddled with your keys. "Look, I'm staying well enough away from... that. I've seen all this before and I know where it leads. Not interested," you said pulling the driver side door open. The Winchester brothers drifted after you.
Sam sighed heavily. "I get all that, I do. I understand. But we really need you on this one. Without you, our chance of success isâ"
"Zero!" Dean interrupted. "We need your freaky psychic mumbojumbo or we're going to be turned intoâvapor! Mincemeat!"
Sam shot him an annoyed look. "Not. Helping." He pushed a hand back through his hair and fixed his earnest eyes on you. "If you really can't do this, it's okay. We'll figure something else out."
Dean threw his hands up and paced a tight circle.
"But you know we'd never ask you to do anything that we knew you couldn't handle."
You looked up at him and his expression was so sincere, his eyes so soft, you felt yourself melting. You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning on your still-open driver's door. "Fuck," you murmured. "Fine! But one of these days I'm going to build up enough immunity to those Sam Winchester puppy-dog eyes and be able to actually say no to you!"
Sam smiled and actually let out a light laugh, relieved. "Thank you. You don't know what this means to us."
"Yeah, yeah..." you waved him off, popping your trunk again. "You two can carry all my shit back inside then..."
Prompt: "I'm staying well enough away from... that. I've seen all this before and I know where it leads."
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Beau...
I loved this and absolutely imagine this is how he would react. I feel like he would be a supportive and considerate boyfriend who would have a playful side that would come out in these sorts of moments.
Love the idea of the paint war! And this...
Beau lifted you up on your workbench, your legs locking around his waist. He kissed you deeply, feeling his excitement growing between your thighs.
âGuess weâll just have to stay dirty then,â he said with a smirk and claimed your lips.
Is absolutely the perfect way to end it đ
Soldier Boy...
Cocksure didnât even do him justice.
Love this line!
Biting the insides of his cheeks, he blushed slightly as he calmed down. âYeah, well, you fucking better. âSides, Iâm not jealous. My cockâs way better than whatever those crooked-ass dicks are. Canât even see them without a fucking magnifying glassâŠâ
I can hear him grumbling this đ€Ł The ego on this man đ
âOh, you want me to explode?â Ben looked challengingly at you, smirking. âI can arrange that. In fact, how about I make you my fucking canvas and splatter my paint all over you, huh?â
Oh, we're about to get a different kind of dirty here!
Really enjoyed both of these!
hello ! hope your having a great day, wanted to ask your thoughts (maybe a dirty drabble??) on Soldier Boy or Beau having an s/o that is artistic or draws/paints a lot? đ Currently working on pieces for my uni and in dire need of motivation to get it doneđ anyways i love all your work !!!! đ€đ€đ€đ€
A/N: What a fun idea! Couldn't resist to write both of 'em, so I hope those two idiots bring you enough motivation đšđȘđ
Pairing: Beau Arlen x Artist!Reader // Soldier Boy x Artist!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSFW, super light smut, tons of fluff, SB typical behavior, crack
Word Count: 1.1k
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist
French Boys
Beau Arlen:
As his car stopped in front of your house, Beau could see the lights still burning brightly in the garage, knowing you were still hard at work.
âHey,â he greeted you as he stood by the door, watching you with a warm smile.
Your gaze drifted from your canvas to him with a smile before spying the brown paper bag in his hand.
âBrought you something. Figured you were gonna burn the midnight oil and needed some fuel,â he said with a knowing smile.
âYouâre a godsend,â you said with a happy sigh and took the bag from him, inhaling the smell of its delicious contents. âIâm sorry Iâve been locked up here so much. Itâs just⊠Iâm really nervous about the gallery opening this weekend, and itâs stressing me the fuck out andâ,â you rambled before you were stopped by his large palms on your cheeks.
âHey, itâs okay,â he soothed you, chuckling, and pecked your hairline sweetly. âI get it. Youâre gonna do great, alright? Amazing, in fact.â
You let out a deep, calming breath and smiled up at him. How did you deserve such a good man? And where the hell have you found him?
âI love you,â you said and draped your arms around him, crashing your lips against his and entangling him in a searing kiss that showed your gratitude. But as you pulled back, your eyes widened in shock. You clasped your mouth.
âWhat?â Beau looked at you confused before he caught your gaze locked on his shoulders and saw the red-painted handprints on his jeans jacket.
âIâm so sorry,â you gasped, embarrassed. Youâd been working with paint everywhere all day. Of course it was all over you at this point.
To your surprise, though, Beau broke into loud laughter and shook his head at you. âHoney, itâs okay,â he told you before his freckled face was overtaken by a mischievous look. âIn factâŠâ
He leaned over to one of your paint cans and dipped his finger inside a white one before booping your nose. You could feel a wet, cold blob on your tip as you gaped at him.
âYou did not just do that.â You were speechless, but his playful laugh was contagious and intoxicating.
âOh, itâs so on,â you announced and dunked your hand in a shade of blue, splattering it graciously on him.
âOh yeah? Hope youâre ready âcause this means war, darlinâ,â he countered with a wide grin, his hands finding green and yellow.
He chased you through the garage until he caged you in his arms, your mouth erupting with giggles until he filled it with kisses. Paint was everywhere, your clothes soaked and his beard and hair sprinkled like a cupcake.
âWeâre never gonna get clean again,â you noted through giggles, looking at the beautiful mess in front of you as you brushed your fingers through his locks.
Beau lifted you up on your workbench, your legs locking around his waist. He kissed you deeply, feeling his excitement growing between your thighs.
âGuess weâll just have to stay dirty then,â he said with a smirk and claimed your lips.
Soldier Boy:
You were curled up on the couch in your apartment, your eyes flickering between the bowl of fruit on the coffee table and your sketch pad in your hands.
Your concentration, however, was broken when a loud thud echoed off the walls and almost shattered the coffee table in a thousand pieces, sending the bowl of fruit flying across the room.
Your eyes lifted from your sketch pad and to your boyfriend in front of you, propped up with one muscular leg on the small table, elbow resting on his thigh with a bulging biceps and a painfully hard cock.
Annoyed, you huffed a sigh but werenât surprised. You had been working on your assignment all day and wondered when your needy-ass, attention-seeking supe boyfriend would get bored with watching TV and smoking weed in your room.
âBen, what the hell are you doing?â You looked up at him and saw the broad and proud smirk on his freckled face.
Cocksure didnât even do him justice.
He wiggled his eyebrows. âFigured Iâd give you something better to draw than a fucking boring-ass banana.â
âUhm⊠that is so sweet and considerate of you. But I really need to draw fruit this week. Thatâs the assignment,â you said wryly before pushing him out of the way.
Well, as best as you could. He was a supe after all, but he budged and bent to your movement.
Pursing his lips, he threw his arms up in upset. âOh, really? And what the fuck is all this shit, huh?â
Dramatically, he tossed one of your art maps on the table and crossed his arms over his broad chest, waiting for an explanation. As you peeked at the scattered sketches of naked men (and women), you knew what this was about.
You rolled your eyes back with a deep sigh. Of course he snooped through your stuff when you left him unsupervised in your room. âBen, I told you already. We were drawing human models last month.â
âYou never fucking said they were naked!â he argued, his deep voice trembling with jealousy and fury. âSo, what? Youâre just off, drawing cocks all day at that art school of yours?! I wonât fucking allow it, Y/N!â
You stifled a snort and tried to remain calm. He was honestly cute when he was greener than his suit. âHoney, you donât have to be jealous. You know I love you... and your giant-ass dick.â
Biting the insides of his cheeks, he blushed slightly as he calmed down. âYeah, well, you fucking better. âSides, Iâm not jealous. My cockâs way better than whatever those crooked-ass dicks are. Canât even see them without a fucking magnifying glassâŠâ
âOh, yeah, for sure,â you feigned your agreement and hid your amused smile, nodding heavily. You stood up from the couch and locked your arms around his broad shoulders. You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him passionately until all his worries faded. His dick twitched between your legs. âYou know, sometimes Iâm surprised how you donât explode with that giant ego of yours, welling from every pore.â
âOh, you want me to explode?â Ben looked challengingly at you, smirking. âI can arrange that. In fact, how about I make you my fucking canvas and splatter my paint all over you, huh?â
âBen, whatââŠâ You burst into laughter, which was swiftly turned into a giggling shriek of protest as he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom.
What do you guys think? Which mess was harder to clean in the aftermath? đđ
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This man had really broken your bed.
In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)
Go, Beau!! (I would happily sacrifice my bed for that reason đ).
âThink of it this way,â you said. âNow we can go pick out a new bed together.â
Oooo, picking out a bed together and the thought of moving in together, things are getting serious.
That last line...
And one thing he would never tell you...
Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.
Yes, Beau, be proud of that!!
A Crime of Passion
Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. ReaderÂ
Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to âmake it up to you,â heâs damn thorough.
AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!
Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.
Word Count: 550
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).
Catch up on the TMH-verse: —ïž
â€ïž Take Me Home Masterlist
You justâŠyou couldnât stop laughing.
âAll right, you done?â Beau asked.
You never thought youâd see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.
He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.
You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.
You just couldnât believe it.
This man had really broken your bed.
In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)
There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.
âAgain, Iâm sorry, sweetheart. I promise Iâll pay for a new frame,â Beau said contritely.
The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.
Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.
âBaby, itâs okay. This thing was old. Iâm surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,â you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.
âBut how damn lucky am I,â you added, your lips curving. âMy man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.â
And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard youâd come on his cock. (Twice.)
You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.
Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.
âYou sure youâre okay then?â he asked.
âIâm more than okay,â you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. âBetter the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.â
Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.
âThink of it this way,â you said. âNow we can go pick out a new bed together.â
Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.
âNow thereâs an idea,â he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.
âRight?â you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. âWeâll just have to make sure the frameâs reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.â
Beau couldnât help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didnât bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.
One thing you knew for sure?
There was no way in hell youâd ever let him live this down.
And one thing he would never tell youâŠ
Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.
AN: đ Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! â€ïž
Ko-Fi Me â
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âYou ok, there, Dad?â Emilyâs taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, thatâs it.
Haha... Beau's been busted.
And now Cassie, Jenny, and Denise know too.
Jarlen
They've already got the couple name. Have to say I prefer that one over...
Belleau
That one just made me laugh!!
Ahh, they are both beginning to realise their feelings for each other.
âCalâs wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.â I frowned, pouting slightly. â541458. Canât help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.â
I'm intrigued. What are these numbers about?!
âSâall well and good, but I think you need tâcalm yourself down.â He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I donât know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. âYouâre always taking care of others, darlinâ. Time for someone to take care oâ you.â
Loved this moment between them!
Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. âMarkham Leeds sends his regards.â
Oohh!! I knew i didn't like him!! Is he behind all of it?!
Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: âI thought Iâd swore off love, Jenny.â I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. âGod, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just⊠I couldnât help it.â I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. âItâs improper, but itâs true.â
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)
A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies
six - kind regards, your broken heart
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
I woke up groggily in Beauâs cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.
âMorninâ sweetheart.â Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. âYou doinâ better?â
âPhysically, yes.â I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.
âAnd⊠emotionally?â
âIâŠâ I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. âI just feel useless, Sheriff.â
âUseless?â He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. âT-The hell you calling useless, Belle?â
âMe.â I sighed, licking my lips nervously. âI have been so⊠weak lately. Iâve taken but after hit and⊠I have a niece to protect. If I canât protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like Iâve failed her, Sheriff. Iâve failed my baby.â My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.
âYour first instinct was to protect Liv.â He assured. âYou didnât think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and Iâd label that a damn good aunt, Belle. Sheâs safe and sound. No longer in danger, and sheâs with her dad. Sheâs ok.â
I nodded. âI guess I can rest now.â
NOW:
Along with being a master at getting myself into life-threatening situations, I was also trained in boxing. Now that Iâd fully recovered from the gunshot wound and partially from the attack a week ago, I was taking Olivia through another self-defence class. Sheâs a natural, if I do say so myself.
âControl the space, câmon.â I encouraged, tapping her arm to keep her guard up. She began to assert more, making me chuckle breathlessly and nod. âThatâs it, attagirl. Now, combo.â I held up my focus mittens, which she hit clean and sharp with a jab, cross punch, a vicious hook before twisting into a spinning hook kick. âGood job, tiger. Keep at it, donât lose that momentum.â
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau watching from the grill with a faint smile on his face, making me laughed and shake my head as I continued to work Olivia through the exercise. âDonât tire on me now.â I encouraged, tapping her arms again to get her guard up. âBob and weave.â I hook punched, forcing her to bend her knees and duck under my arm, my glove twisting so she could sharply hook punch it. âGood, good! Câmon, just a little more, then we can have a rest. Roundhouse.â I held up the pad, which she kicked perfectly with a satisfying, resounding smack. The action made Beauâs eyebrows raise slightly, impressed, as he watched Olivia and I, my attention solely on Liv.
His eyes trailed from my tied back wavy hair, my forearm brushing back sweaty, loose strands of my hair. Then they lingered on my determined blue eyes, which flashed almost icy white in the glow of the morning. Then came the dewy curvature of my button nose, a bead of sweat trickling down the freckled skin that was promptly wiped. Then came my pretty pink lips, my tongue darting out every now and then to wet them every now and then. A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as his emerald eyes traced the lines of my neck, lingering on a small, prominent freckle on the smooth, unmarked skin. Then came, like a punch to the gut, my slightly defined shoulders and arms, visible because of my tank top. To make things worse (or better), a hint of my bra strap was visible underneath as it shifted and moved along with my agile body. So his eyes wandered lower-
âYou ok, there, Dad?â Emilyâs taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, thatâs it.
âYeah, sweetheart. Iâm doinâ fine.â Beau nodded, swallowing. âJust⊠fine.â He gave me a once over, clearing his throat.
Damn it, Sheriff. Thatâs your deputy, get it together.
I jogged over with a grin, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip from it, the cool water refreshing my lungs. âGod, I needed that.â I groaned in satisfaction, rubbing my neck. I then exhaled happily, glancing between the two as I sensed something up. âDid I miss anything?â
âNo.â Emily shook her head with an innocent smile. âNot at all.â I flicked my eyes between the two with a twinkle in them, a slight smile playing at my lips.
âAâight.â I nodded, conceding with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair before rubbing the nape of my neck. I could try and crack the secret code between this father-daughter duo, or I could focus on more pressing matters that I didnât want Liv to worry about. Such as Calâs murder, which was confirmed when a body was found dragged into a lake, prints washed off. We still had del Marco in custody, but that told me that it wasnât enough. We needed the phone. Lucyâs phone, which somebody took. I didnât know who. âIâm gonna start working the case from the safety of the trailer.â
âAre you sure thatâs the best idea, darlinâ?â Beau broached, corners of his eyes crinkling in concern. âYou ainât exactly in good shape to go after these God awful men.â
âAt least I can go after them from a more desk-heavy standpoint.â I shrugged, grimacing as I thought of the night the guys attacked. âIâm just pissed. They couldâve gotten Olivia.â The thought of them laying their hands on Olivia made my blood boil. The things Iâd do to them if they ever did come back for a second round, theyâd make the Devil blush. And Lucifer probably doesnât take these things with a heavy heart.
âWe canât go charginâ like bulls that see red, Belle.â He chastised, folding his arms with a small huff. âYouâve been getting hurt nonstop, and I canât see that again- I ainât allowing it. Not anytime soon. As your friend and your sheriff? I suggest you stand down.â
âAnd Iâm not inclined to slack off.â I frowned, copying his expression. âAs long as those thugs are out there, my baby girl is in danger. And as long as she isnât safe, Iâm not happy. So I wonât rest until that group is taken down.â
Beau gave me a long and hard look, his tongue wetting his lips before he bit them in frustration, a look which I wasnât a stranger to, but it seemed oddly more⊠magnetic⊠than usual. If thatâs a way to describe it. âYouâre not gonna listen, huh?â
âNo, sir.â
He let out a huff of breath, looking to the sky as he contemplated what to do. Then he nodded, Adamâs apple bobbing. âAlright. But⊠if thereâs any chance that we need a tactical squad, which is pretty high, you stay at the back.â
I gave him a grin, knowing Iâd won. It didnât take long, since nobody was bothered to deal with my stubbornness. âThanks, Sheriff.â
He just grumbled and looked away.
I was dropping off Tom to Harryâs house after picking up Liv from their date. I had mixed feelings about Tom, which didnât feel rather fair, and as an officer of the law, fair judgement is mandatory. On one hand, Olivia seemed happy with him. Really happy. He was sweet (by what Iâd heard from Oliviaâs lovesick rambling), cared for her and was an all-around gentleman, even though Olivia was older by a few months. I could respect that much. But⊠he was Harryâs son. Adopted son, so thankfully the bad genes didnât pass on, but still.
I could still remember the features of his, the ones I admired on a daily basis. The twinkling, charming green blue eyes, the winning smile, fluffy brown blonde hair, the deep, warm laugh that never failed to be contagious- the hell am I mixing Harry up with? Harryâs laugh sounded like the laugh of that grandpa from New York that Olivia showed me once on YouTube but ten times worse. And I canât believe I found his Missouri accent even one attractive when it doesnât compare to a Texas accent on a deep voice- where the hell is Texas coming from?!
I walked Tom up the steps to Harryâs house, which was quite literally the picture of picket fence perfection. Only thing missing from the meticulously mowed lawn, carved, painted white, wooden fence and the peach house paired with a red roof was a line of flowery bushes- oh wait, they have that too.
I couldâve had this. But I blew it, with me, myself and my workaholic disposition.
I swallowed, leading the sandy-haired teenager up the steps and knocking on the door to Harryâs house, the man himself opening the door and flashing the smile that always picked my spirits up, but I only got a weird feeling since my stomach sank at the same time this time around. âHarry.â
âIssy.â He moved aside so Tom could walk in, giving him a brief hug before turning back to me. His eyes looked me over, a look in his eye that I couldnât place. âYou lookâŠâ
âHorrible, I know.â I chuckled, looking away uncomfortably, a small, polite grin on my face as I tried my hardest not to burst and start yelling about how he ruined me. I half expected him to agree, but then I felt a pressure on my shoulder and found him smiling affectionately as the hand dropped to squeeze my bicep almost imperceptibly. The hell?
âI think you look beautiful.â Harry whispered, making my breath catch in my throat and bile almost shoot up from wherever it comes from. This man is-is married.
âR-Rhea!â I stammered way too loudly, plastering a patronising grin on my face as I shrugged his hand off. âHowâs your wife?â
âSheâs ok.â He nodded, looking somewhat dejected. I cleared my throat, stepping back to keep distance between him and I.
âThatâs good.â Awkward silence, as expected when your married ex is hitting on you. âI have to go. Got work, cases to solve, all that.â
âI see.â He agreed quietly, and I turned on my heel, booking the hell out of there.
Beau hurried to Dewell and Hoytâs office, where he found the trifecta- Jenny, Cassie and Denise. They all were looking at him with matching knowing glances which told him his game was up. But- hold on a second - what game was there in the first place? No game here, no siree. But there they were, Denise, Jenny and Cassie, all staring at him with looks that said âI know your secretâ but the secret was nonexistent, right?
âEmily told us.â Jenny grinned, spinning a pen in between her fingers as she snickered like a cartoon villain.
âHow you checked Deputy Joyner out.â Cassie smirked, pumping her eyebrows. His face instantly flushed red; he hadnât checked his deputy out. He was gauging her suitability to⊠get back on the job. Thatâs it. Thatâs right.
âOr Belle, as you call her.â Denise teased, filing her nails with the wrong side of the filer. âIs there somethinâ youâre not telling us, Bo-Bo?â
âI think yâall are insane.â Beau snorted, averting his eyes nervously. âBelle⊠and-and me? And I, grammatically speaking. No. Nah, she swore off men, remember? She swore off men. After Harry the ass, who is back in town, by the way, s-she doesnât need any more men drama.â
âCâmon, I wanna see Jarlen happen.â Cassie pouted.
âOh my god, Jarlen!â Jenny gasped, nodding frantically. âI was gonna call it Belleau.â
Denise grimaced in agreement, her head also bobbing up and down. âJarlen works.â
âJarlen it is.â Cassie smirked, staring straight into Beauâs soul. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for even thinking about his deputy that way. Though⊠it wouldnât hurt, right?
It was true that he felt a bit⊠partial⊠to the momma bear, ass protecting beaut of a deputy, but he hadnât been that obvious with it⊠unless he had.
âYou seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?â He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.
âNo, sir, Iâm just concerned for the kid.â I answered not as smoothly as Iâd hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldnât do anything, not when I was named Oliviaâs legal guardian and was Lucyâs next of kin.
âItâs about Mark, right?â
I chuckled lowly, nodding. âThat obvious?â
âYouâre like a mama bear in these cases.â He grinned, then patted my knee. âBut now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.â
âGotcha, Sheriff.â I smiled as we pulled up to the house. âHear you loud and clear.â I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that heâd done the same. âShall we?â
âWe shall, darlinâ.â
While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.
âThereâs my Southern Belle, all up anâ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what Iâd call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.â He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. âAnd you, young lady, must be Olivia.â
âThatâs me.â Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. âAnd you must be Aunt Isaâs favourite sheriff.â
âWhile I appreciate it, Iâm the only sheriff.â
âExactly.â
âLiv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? Iâve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.â I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.
âSomethingâs up, right?â He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. âTalk to me, Belle.â
I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. âTitled âsunflowerâ. Itâs the nickname my sister used to call me, so I canât help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.â
âOr something that got mixed up in the wrong box.â
âThatâs also a possibility.â I nodded, then pouted in thought. âIâve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Livâs celebration here is over and sheâs out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lilâ listen to it?â
âSounds like a plan.â Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. âThatâs Lucy, huh?â
âYeah.â
âShe looks just like her sister.â He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. âHow much older was she?â
âEight years.â I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didnât quite register it.
âAh, so sheâd be lordinâ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff canât escape the clutches of an older sister.â
âNeither can a forty year old deputy.â I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day Iâd skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.
My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-
âHey, Deputy.â Beauâs low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones Iâd grown to trust with my life. âYou doinâ ok?â
âI⊠yeah.â I nodded, cracking a smile.
I was sitting in Jennyâs kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since Iâd handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didnât respond to or react to. Beauâs eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. âThatâs Harry the jackass. Why are you lookinâ at photos of Harry the jackass?â
âHeâs with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.â I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.
âI see the appeal.â He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. âI mean, sheâs gorgeous-â
âBeau!â Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He⊠thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasnât good enough?
âIâm messinâ with you!â Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. âSweetheart, Harry the jackass doesnât even know who heâs lost. This Rhea girl? Doesnât even hold a candle to you. Sheâs an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlinâ. He doesnât deserve you.â
âThanks, Sheriff.â I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beauâs shoulder, giving him a look that said âI was about to rip your head offâ. âYou got me there for a second.â
âI got Hoyt too.â
âYes, he did.â Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. âIf youâd said that truthfully, no joking, Iâd rain down hellfire.â
âWell, Iâm glad I was just poking some fun.â Beau smirked, then patted my knee. âYouâre gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ainât no messing around there.â
âYouâre very welcome, young lady.â And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.
âAy, ay, ay! Who let her out?â He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beauâs own to accept how I was now capable of walking. âAâight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.â He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didnât look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. âSince you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasnât found the guy who hurt you, but weâll find him.â
âYeah, I heard you reopened your sisterâs murder investigation.â Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.
âNo way, your sister was murdered?â She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, theyâre good at the âlookâ.
âEm, letâs try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.â
âYour enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but letâs dial it down a little.â Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-âAre you doinâ ok, darlinâ?â
There it is.
âJust fine.â I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. âIâm fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.â I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. âHey, sweetie.â
I woke up groggily in Beauâs cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.
âMorninâ sweetheart.â Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. âYou doinâ better?â
âPhysically, yes.â I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.
âAnd⊠emotionally?â
âIâŠâ I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. âI just feel useless, Sheriff.â
âUseless?â He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. âT-The hell you calling useless, Belle?â
âMe.â I sighed, licking my lips nervously. âI have been so⊠weak lately. Iâve taken but after hit and⊠I was a niece to protect. If I canât protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like Iâve failed her, Sheriff. Iâve failed my baby.â My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.
âYour first instinct was to protect Liv.â He assured. âYou didnât think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and Iâd label that a damn good aunt, Belle. Sheâs safe and sound. No longer in danger, and sheâs with her dad. Sheâs ok.â
I nodded. âI guess I can rest now.â
Yeah, maybe he was a little too partial. But he couldnât help it. Elle Joyner was⊠likeable, charming, funny, had the most beautiful eyes⊠he couldnât help falling for her liking her as much as he did.
âBo-Bo?â Deniseâs lilt took him out of memory lane, matching smirks again on all three of their faces. âYouâre a little spacy.â
Beau raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.
That night, I was up late, working a case. Iâd sent Olivia to bed after having the leftovers from the last takeout and a quick goodbye before she went to Deanâs. I flicked through the sheafs of paper, and I found a picture of Lucy and I. Lucy had a tattoo on her right wrist that made me sit up. Iâd never seen her with it before, so it intrigued me more than it usually would.
045114.
The hell was that for? Just a random number?
I swept my hand down my mouth, biting my bottom lip before I shut the file, lying down in the bed Beau had made for me, pulling the covers up to my chin as I shut my eyes, already in my pyjamas. I scrolled on my phone, coming across a voicemail from⊠Harry. The moment I played it, the slurred syllables told me he had gotten into the beer.
âHeya, Isa, just wanted t-to say, mâso in love wâya. Canât get enough oâya. Just wanted you tâknow. Especially since itâs been how long? A-Ah, three years. Canât get oâer ya. C-Call me.â
I felt bad for Rhea.
I turned over in bed, too tired to even forward the voicemail to her and blindly putting the phone on the bedside table. My eyelids felt like anvils midair being pulled down by the cruel force of gravity, so I fell asleep soon after. However, that was short lived when I got up a few hours later, panting in what could only be the aftershocks of a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes, my hands travelling to my arms over the hoodie that Beau lent me. It went down to my mid-thigh, I was that small. I saw a wet spot appear on the chest area, and I swallowed, realising that my breath was shakier and more ragged than normal and my cheeks were tainted with tears. I instantly grabbed a tissue, wiping them. I didnât want to ruin his hoodie any further with my angst that rivalled a teenagerâs.
On the way out of the trailer, finding the still-burning fire, I took the photo of Lucy and I out, taken from the time we had been at her first wedding in Deanâs home town: Roseburg, Oregon. I sat down at a chair by the fire, the hoodie practically swallowing my body up in an attempt for warmth. Dean had his lips pressed to Lucyâs hair, his hands tickling her sides and making her let out a laugh that was too beautiful for this world. I was holding the bouquet like a trophy, since Iâd caught it, but I, in fact, was not next.
My great aunt Bertha got married to her neighbourhoodâs milkman, Samuel, before I could even score a date.
And then Dean and Lucy divorced due to work schedule problems, and Lucy found Mark. Not my favourite choice, but she still married someone. Here I was, yearning for someone at 40 years old who probably didnât yearn for me back. Iâm a mess of a human, arenât I?
âBelle, darlinâ?â Beau showed up at the door to his trailer, his hands desperately trying to smooth his blasted hedgehog hair while his eyes blearily took in the scene, concern bleeding onto his rugged features as he took a step forward, immediately sensing that I was deep in thought. âSâlate, sweetheart. Whatâs goinâ on in that head aâyours, hm?â He also deduced my half-assed attempt for warmth, so he whipped his coat off, tucking it around my shoulders before lunging to get a blanket that he placed over my legs. He then sat down next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder that he used to draw me into his chest, his other large hand gripping my thigh slightly to move my legs in a more comfortable position. By instinct, my hand went over his heart.
Thump. Thump.
His heartbeat was oddly comforting.
âMind tellinâ me whatâs got my favourite deputy sporting a face like a wet weekend?â Beau asked softly, his fingers rubbing through my hair, teasing out any random knots, because of course there had to be imperfections in what could be a perfect moment.
His lips almost pressed against my hair, ghosting over for a moment before he decided against it, his cheek nuzzling the soft strands instead. I sighed, biting my lip. âI think the case is taking its toll on my sleep.â I replied quietly, rubbing my puffy red eye. âHad a nightmare that Olivia was kidnapped. And had a flashback of when Cal died. So many numbersâŠâ
âWhat do you mean by that, sweet girl?â He proved further, his thumb tracing my cheekbone before sweeping down to line my jaw. The touches helped me relax and stop the panicking, which helped a lot with recall. My muscles relaxed, my breathing slowing down and telling my watch that I no longer needed to be recommended breathing exercises.
âCalâs wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.â I frowned, pouting slightly. â541458. Canât help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.â
âTheyâre both connected?â
âMaybe. Just need to figure out how.â
âSâall well and good, but I think you need tâcalm yourself down.â He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I donât know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. âYouâre always taking care of others, darlinâ. Time for someone to take care oâ you.â
My first instinct was to protest. âBut-â
âBut nothinâ. Weïżœïżœïżœre gonna stay here, and when youâre calm, weâll go back inside and Iâm gonna stay with you. Then we can take a proper crack at del Marco. Got it?â
I deflated, nodding. âYes, sir.â I giggled at the end, which earned a deep chuckle from him too.
âDeputy, you make me feel old sometimes.â We sat like that in silence, until Beau felt that Iâd calmed down enough. He helped me up, tidying away the blanket and extinguishing the fire, switching on his phone torch so we had a light to help us walk. When we got to my bed, he gestured for me to lay down, probably as a âladies firstâ, and I did. He got in next to me, making sure that the covers were snugly over me before drawing me closer, his arm around my waist protectively. My back facing his chest, his breath on the back of my neck.
It all felt so unfamiliar.
âGânight, Belle.â
âNight, Sheriff.â
The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beauâs arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didnât. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didnât even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact Iâd gotten over the past few years. Maybe Iâm touched starved. Yeah, thatâs it.
I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucyâs leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. âGâmorning, Belle. Sleep ok?â
âJust peachy.â I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didnât find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. âLetâs go.â
At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. âFinally, you brought her here.â He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. âI only got one thing to say. One thing only.â
âAnd whatâs that?â Jenny asked, her expression stony.
âIt better be good, otherwise youâre lookinâ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.â Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.
Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. âMarkham Leeds sends his regards.â
My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.
âMARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!â
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Lucy kept everything on that phoneâinformation that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum oâ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."
Ooohhh!! Does this have something to do with why she was killed?
Poor girl being confronted by her past like that. Lucky Beau turned up... the ex didn't seem too happy about that!
Oh no, poor elle is really going through it at the moment. Thank goodness Olivia was able to get to Beau, and he and jenny got to her in time.
Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: âI thought Iâd swore off love, Jenny.â I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. âGod, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just⊠I couldnât help it.â I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. âItâs improper, but itâs true.â
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)
A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies
A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM
five - make him hurt, make me bleed
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. âEvening, sir, can I help you?â
âYeah, thanks, man.â The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. âIâm, uh, Iâm lookinâ for my son. His nameâs Tom Holden. Have you seen him?â
âHe went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.â Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the manâs character. âWhy, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, yâknow.â
âOh, thatâd be great.â He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. âJust tell him his old manâs in town, yeah?âÂ
âDoes his old man have a name?â Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.
âOh! Oh, yeah.â The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. âHarry. Harry Holden.â
NOW:
âAlright, you know what to do.â I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. âWeâre moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.â She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. âGood work, sweetheart. Youâre a natural, just like your mom.â We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. âHang tight, gunâs in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passengerâs door, ok?â
âGot it, auntie.â She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.
âSunflower, Iâm planninâ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?â Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didnât know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. âOh! Thanks. Silly me.â
âIssy?â I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw⊠Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. âIt is you, oh, I knew it!â There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.
âHarry.â I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with⊠Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. âAnd Tomâs⊠your son?â
âYou know my boy?â Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. âWell, my darling-â He held Rheaâs hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, âand I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?â
âYouâre Tomâs old friend, right?â The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. âRhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neĂ© Summers, itâs hard to compute.â
I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. âElle Joyner.â
âThreeâs a crowd, but fourâs a party.â I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harryâs eyebrow twitched, his Adamâs apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. âWhoâs this, sweetheart?â He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.
âHarry Holden.â Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. âIâm, uh, Elleâs old friend.â Beauâs eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latterâs hand anyway, adopting a smile.
âSheriff Beau Arlen.â He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. âIâm Belleâs boyfriend.â Oh. Oh, weâre doing that. âAinât that right, sweetheart?â
âYeah.â I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beauâs cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.
âYour boyfriend.â Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. âWell, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, wonât she? Iâll drop her off, if thatâs ok.â
âMhmm, yeah, itâs ok. Iâll, uh, see you tonight.â I nodded, swallowing as Beauâs grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. âYou didnât have to do that.â
âYes, I did.â He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.
So⊠more of an attempt.
In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captorsâmembers of a notorious crime syndicateâas they loomed over him with a menacing presence.
Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."
Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."
Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.
Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.
"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swearâ"
The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."
Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."
Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phoneâinformation that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum oâ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."
Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.
"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"
In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I donât know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I⊠donât know."
The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."
As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded backâher bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.
Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outsideâa world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.
When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.
Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.
Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."
The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."
Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."
Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.
And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the wallsâthe same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.
"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."
Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."
"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."
The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.
"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."
Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngestâs sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.
As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.
Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.
Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.
The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of townâa forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.
He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.
Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.
"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. âI swear, itâs here-â He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remyâs gun as he blew it off.
âMy patience wore thin.â Remyâs sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. âYou lot know what to do.â
Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markhamâs relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.
When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. âWow, this looks amazing, Mark,â she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.
Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. âThank you, Olivia. Iâm glad youâre here.â He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. âHow have you been, sweetheart?â
Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. âIâve been good, thank you,â she replied politely. âSchoolâs going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.â
âThatâs good to hear,â Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Oliviaâs aunt. âListen, Liv, thereâs something Iâd like to talk to you about.â
Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. âSure, what is it?â
Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. âIâve been thinking⊠maybe itâs time for a change. I know youâve been living with your aunt for a while now, but Iâd like you to consider staying with me permanently.â
Oliviaâs eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. âOh,â she said softly, setting her fork down. âI⊠I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. Sheâs been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.â
âI understand,â Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. âBut I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.â
Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. âItâs not that I donât want to spend time with you, Mark. Youâre nice to me and everything. Itâs just⊠Aunt Isa has always been there for me. Sheâs like a second mom.â
Markâs heart sank a little at Oliviaâs words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. âI see,â he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. âWell, I want you to be happy, Olivia. Thatâs the most important thing.â
Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. âIâm sorry, Mark. I donât want to hurt your feelings.â
âItâs okay, sweetheart,â Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. âI just want whatâs best for you.â
The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.
âWell, Olivia,â he began, âitâs getting late. I should take you back to your auntâs place.â
Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. âOkay,â she said quietly, her eyes downcast.
Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. âThank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.â
Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. âThank you, Mark. Iâm sorry I canât⊠you knowâŠâ
Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. âItâs alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.â
Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. âYeah. Maybe.â
Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.
Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her auntâs house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.
When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. âTake care of yourself, Olivia,â he said softly.
Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. âYou too, Mark.â
I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. âI missed you too, gumdrop.â I grinned, kissing her hair. âCâmon, I got ice cream.â I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. âWhat flavour are you feelinâ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?â
âHow about both?â
âI like the way you think.â I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. âWeâre gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriffâs trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?â I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.
However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. âYeah, of course! I still canât get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.â Olivia smirked. âIs there something youâre not telling me-?â
âOlivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?â I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. âJenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.â I gave her a stern look, but couldnât help but break into giggles again alongside her. âYouâre insufferable.â
âYou love me.â
âI do.â I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirtâs sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didnât sound like itâd hold, and the many menâs voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.
âA-Auntie? Whatâs going on?â She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.
âI donât know. But you need to go.â I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. âOut of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so thereâs no time to get âem. Donât get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlenâs trailer is. Go tell him whatâs happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?â Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. âPlease, sweetie. Run.â And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.
Thereâs no way I was winning this fight.
âThereâs Cal Joynerâs little girl.â One of them smirked, stepping towards me. âAnd sheâs got a knife.â
âSheâs a pretty little thing.â Another added with a matching wolffish grin. âDâyou reckon we should have our fun with her?â The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.
âNot if sheâs wielding that pigstick.â
âThat wonât be a problem, Yates, weâll have that out of her hands in seconds.â
âDonât you dare.â I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. âDeputy Elle Joyner, Sheriffâs Department. Tell me what youâve done to Cal.â
âCalâs got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.â The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.
Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her auntâs, more accurately, sprinting over to Beauâs trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.
âSay, is Belle gonna take any longer?â Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.
âGive her some time, Beau.â Carla chastised. âShe has a life.â
âYeah, Beau.â Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.
âYou tell her, Carla.â Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said âdonât look at meâ.
âYou inducted my daughter into your little support group.â Beau faux-gasped. âIâll never forgive you. Never-â
âSHERIFF!â Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.
âEasy, Liv, sweetheart, whatâs going on?â He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. âShh, easy, talk to me.â
âItâs A-Aunt Isa!â She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. âSome men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-â
âIâve got you.â Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. âYour auntâs gonna be ok. Iâm gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I wonât let anythinâ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.â Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. âHoyt, letâs go.â
âIâll call for an ambulance.â Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beauâs car, Jennyâs panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.
âBELLE!â Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldnât have found me- God, my everything hurts. âHoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.â Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. âI-Itâs bad, J-Jenny, itâs bad, sheâs bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?â He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. âStay with me, Deputy. Donât go passinâ on me now, donât you dare.â
I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.
I woke up groggily in Beauâs cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.
âMorninâ sweetheart.â Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. âYou doinâ better?â
âPhysically, yes.â I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.
âAnd⊠emotionally?â
âIâŠâ I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. âI just feel useless, Sheriff.â
âUseless?â He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. âT-The hell you calling useless, Belle?â
âMe.â I sighed, licking my lips nervously. âI have been so⊠weak lately. Iâve taken but after hit and⊠I was a niece to protect. If I canât protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like Iâve failed her, Sheriff. Iâve failed my baby.â My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.
âYour first instinct was to protect Liv.â He assured. âYou didnât think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and Iâd label that a damn good aunt, Belle. Sheâs safe and sound. No longer in danger, and sheâs with her dad. Sheâs ok.â
I nodded. âI guess I can rest now.â
LMF TAGLIST:
@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife
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There's a lot going on here.
Why is her dad carrying around her sister's phone?
What did the kidnappers want with him?
She's not to be messed with is she, going in there on her own and taking down one of the kidnappers before Beau and Jenny got there.
Loved that moment when Beau opened up to her back at hers.
âIsabelle?â I heard the familiar voice of Markham Leeds as he walked in, expression surly and contorting into shock and then sneering once he saw Dean.
Oh, he's back again. What exactly is his problem with Dean?
Uh-oh Olivia is dating the son of her ex!! And Harry is now back in town!
Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: âI thought Iâd swore off love, Jenny.â I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. âGod, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just⊠I couldnât help it.â I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. âItâs improper, but itâs true.â
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)
A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies
four - (never) take it easy
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
âThere it is. The one thing I couldnât do and never did: trust you.â I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.
âSee here, Mr Joyner, you are Belleâs father, and I will respect you that much, but a lotâs happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.â He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. âNow, youâre gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or weâre gonna find out usinâ methods that you wonât approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.â
âItâs good that you elaborated.â
âYeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.â Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. âStay put.â
âYou know I canât do that.â I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasnât healed yet, so I couldnât fight.
âStay. Put.â He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. âSheriffâs department, hands where I can see âem!â My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.
âElle!â She cried out, looking terrified. âBehind you!â I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time before it hit my face.
After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.
Neither of them felt great.
I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beauâs shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall⊠what the guy looked like. I could remember⊠grey hair, possibly Mexican⊠or Hispanic⊠strong⊠build⊠6â 4ââŠ
âBelle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backupâŠâ
Sunlight hit my eyes, burning my eyelids slightly and forcing me to open them, which happened to be a mistake since it then set my retinas on fire. Or maybe Iâm just being dramatic. I groaned, covering my face with my eyes and rubbing them until I had the strength to open them again, adjusting to the light. It had been two weeks since the incident in a diner and an APB had been put out for our kidnapper. Beau initially had insisted on me moving in to his trailer, but upon further evaluation, Olivia would need to come with me and he already houses three people in there. Therefore Beau, Emily and Carla temporarily moved in to my house, thank the Lord I have quite a few spare rooms, to take care of me.
âYouâre awake.â Emily was at the door with a smile, holding a glass of water. âAre you feeling better, Elle?â
âMuch.â I nodded, sitting up with a grunt. Beau had not let me leave my room for two weeks, bringing every meal to my room, plentiful and seeming like it was following the Eatwell Guide, it was that rich with the necessities. âIâm gonna be on my feet today, Em. Donât even think your dad can stop me today.â
âGood, âcause I was about to tell Beau to let the poor girl stand.â Carla appeared next to Emily, kissing the girlâs hair. A wide smile instantly broke out on my face as I stood up, moving to hug her. âMorning, Elle.â
âMorninâ, Carla.â I hummed, closing my eyes before letting her go. âAlways good to have a lawyer on my side.â
âHaving you as my client? Gonna be a blast.â She chuckled, lightly tapping my shoulder. âOliviaâs had breakfast and sheâs out with her friends at some restaurant that opened up last week. She said she asked you about it and you were all for it, but I wanted to check.â
âOh, yeah, I let her go.â I nodded with a grin, also laughing. âI had Jen run some background checks before I let her, though.â
âSmart. Iâd go with Em myself to make sure sheâs with the right crowd, if you know what I mean.â
âOh, thatâs a given, duh, but I do my surveillance from a distance.â
âSo youâre also a spy.â Emily grinned, her eyes twinkling, âJust like Daddy.â
âWell, Em, Iâm less of a compulsive stalker/spy.â I chuckled, then nudged her. âI wonât tell your dad.â
âThank you.â
âYouâre very welcome, young lady.â And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.
âAy, ay, ay! Who let her out?â He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beauâs own to accept how I was now capable of walking. âAâight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.â He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didnât look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. âSince you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasnât found the guy who hurt you, but weâll find him.â
âYeah, I heard you reopened your sisterâs murder investigation.â Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.
âNo way, your sister was murdered?â She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, theyâre good at the âlookâ.
âEm, letâs try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.â
âYour enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but letâs dial it down a little.â Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-âAre you doinâ ok, darlinâ?â
There it is.
âJust fine.â I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. âIâm fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.â I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. âHey, sweetie.â
âHey, uh, Aunt Isa? I think I might be home later than usual.â
âAnd⊠whyâs that?â I asked with a smirk, since I heard a boyâs voice in the background. I knew where this was going.
âThereâs a guy. He asked me out.â
âAha! I knew it, but whatâs the guyâs name?â
âHis nameâs Tom Hollister. Heâs a really sweet guy, auntie.â
âI donât doubt your judgement, gumdrop. Fine, but be back before dark.â I chuckled, running a hand through my hair while I felt a soaring feeling in my chest. My girlâs growing up so fast. I hadnât had great experiences with men, but who knows? Maybe Olivia will get the good batch.
âYes! Love you, auntie.â
âLove you too, sweetheart. Stay safe.â I cut the call, turning to Beau and Carla with a laugh, my eyes twinkling. âOliviaâs going on a date.â
âYou let her date?!â Emily gasped, pointedly glancing between her mom and dad, who didnât look any degree apologetic, instead chuckled about it.
âYouâre not dating until youâre eighteen.â Beau warned, raising a finger but sporting a wide smile nonetheless.
âAw, câmon, why?â
âBecause youâre still our baby girl.â Carla excused with a glint in her eye. âAnd weâre overprotective. At this rate, we say you can date at eighteen but itâs gonna bump up to thirty two.â
I was sitting with Poppernak, going through the security footage of the encounter with our assailants. I felt an uneasy twinge in my stomach that I chalked down to being embarrassed due to having been overpowered by a random guy in a a diner.
That wasnât the only thing that set that twinge off. The attack in the diner was a targeted strike. If somebody had tracked our location to that specific place and ordered to take Cal, he knew something that the guy who attacked me didnât want to reveal. At any cost.
I squinted at the screen, trying to see if there was anything on Cal or the guy who dragged him away that we could see. While Mo was scrolling through the footage, I noted down any identifying features of the guy I could before handing it to Jenny so she could update the officers on what theyâre looking for.Â
I was tapped on the shoulder by Mo, grabbing my attention as my brow furrowed, spinning on the chair to face the screen. I had thousands of theories running through my head, but I needed to narrow it down as much as I could. As quickly as I could.
âTalk to me.â I sighed, leaning forward so I could see the screen better, my fingers drumming on the table incessantly, my nails making a little tapping noise on the wood that made me feel a lot better, my leg bouncing on the ball of my foot.
Donât blame me, itâs just a thing.
âLook here.â Mo pointed to Calâs pocket, where there was what looked like a phone. It was rather old and cracked, with a blue case that had flowers adorning them.
Sunflowers.
I instantly knew whose phone that was, and I realised the reason why Cal had been taken. He had my sisterâs phone, which could have the key to finding out who killed her. I leaned forward, gesturing for him to zoom in. âIsnât something youâd find on an old man, huh?â He continued with a sigh.
âNo, it is not.â I shook my head, grimacing. I felt sick to my stomach, but also confused. Why the hell was my father walking around with a dead womanâs phone in his coat pocket? And why did some random mobster want it as well? If he even was a mobster. âThatâs my sisterâs phone. She got that phone case to remind herself of me. She called me her sunflower, yâknow, since theyâre the flower of Kansas.â
I couldnât believe I didnât see the phone before. Itâs the one piece of evidence I need and now itâs in the clutches of someone whoâs only going to use it for the worse. Not to bring justice, just goddamn pain.
âWait. Check this.â Mo showed me the footage from the outside of the Blue Fox diner, where there was a black van that Cal was shoved into, but I could see a blue and yellow rectangle fly a metre before landing in a bush. I sat up; Cal Joyner, you slick son of a gun. âThereâs our phone.â
âLucyâs phone.â I breathed, moving to grab my jacket, slinging it on. I ran a hand through my hair, my throat dry and forcing me to take a long sip of water. âWe need to get that thing. As in, we need to go. Now.â
âWoah, hold on.â Mo held up a hand, stopping me with a raised eyebrow coupled alongside it. His eyes flicked to Beauâs office, where I knew if I just stormed out looking like my guns were blazing then heâd stop me in my goddamn tracks. âBeauâs not gonna let you leave.â I was torn. I could value my health and safety and let Jenny handle it, or I could go out on a limb and get that phone myself.Â
I turned to Mo, grinning sheepishly. I shrugged, my eyes furtively glancing to the door as I took out my keys. âHeâll, uh, heâll calm down.â And before I could be stopped, I was out of the door and practically sprinting to my car, getting in just as I saw Beauâs figure appearing at the entrance to the department, his yells muffled by my rolled up window. I pressed my foot down on the pedal, pulling out and heading out of the car park. I drove down the road, watching the landscape go by.
My blood boiled, adrenaline pumping in my veins even though it was merely driving a car to get a phone. Except that the phone could possibly be my link to getting the truth about Lucy. I ran a hand through my hair, finding that my phone was buzzing with notifications from Beau. Angry notifications.
Which I ignored.
I pulled up at the diner, getting out and kneeling by the bush, searching desperately through the foliage in search for a phone which seemed to be not there. I cursed under my breath, standing up and resisting the urge to kick my car. But I love her too much, so I refrained from it.
I rubbed a hand over my mouth, a frown darkening my face as I tried to find an alternate way to deal with this. To find Cal and find the phone. I donât know what it was that made this case so damn difficult, but I was stumped. I usually was able to solve my cases. Half the solved case file boxes were filled by me.
And now? Iâm stumped.
âGreat. This is great.â I breathed, hands on my hips as I looked to the sky in vain. Damn me and my false frigginâ hopes that something, anything, will show up if I just look at the sky. Then my radio crackled to life, catching my attention.
âAll units in sector seven, we have our assailant. A man by the exact noted description has been spotted south of Reseda Grove. We need all available units on the scene, does anyone copy?â I heard dispatch announce, and it clocked in my head. I was in sector seven. And I was an available unit. My hand instantly scrambled for my radio, fiddling around at my belt until I found it, holding it to my mouth and turning on the mic.
âThis is Deputy Elle Joyner, badge number MD1176, and I copy.â I announced before getting into my car, flooring it as I wildly jerked the steering wheel. Iâm still alive, donât worry.
Beau had heard the announcement on the radio and the response from the very person he needed to stay out of harmâs way, and he cursed loudly, starting to gear up. âEveryone, gear up! Poppernak, lead a team to secure the perimeter, donât let anyone in or out. Hoyt, youâre with me. I swear, Deputy Joynerâs gonna get herself KILLED!â
From where I was, I reached Reseda Grove, pulling out my gun and putting on a vest which had DEPUTY in bold yellow writing over green. I tied my hair up, springing out of the car and raising my gun, finding myself now a foot away from the man who attacked me in the diner. He was what I estimated to be 6 foot, which meant he had a good five inches on me, which was a problem.
âElle Joyner.â He smirked, grey eyes twinkling in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I gritted my teeth, flicking the safety off my gun. He had a scar on his lip, which was curled into a snarl after he noticed me cocking my gun. âAnd I thought a Kansan such as yourself would have some more manners.â His accent was distinctly from New York, which confused me for a moment since weâd identified him as Mexican, but oh well, parade que mordĂ mĂĄs de lo que pude masticar. Or maybe thatâs not the phrase.
âIâll have manners once you give Cal back.â I retorted, staring him in the eye and refusing to back down. I didnât know whether Beau would get here with backup, but I needed to take this jackass down. And fast. âBut then again, I canât give promises, Sicario, but you can give me a name before I kick ass and take it.âÂ
âNameâs Ruiz del Campo.â He chuckled, then the smile slid off his bullish face. âYou wonât be getting any more than that, hermosa.â
âI wasnât born yesterday, asno, I know what hermosa means, I do my Duolingo- weâre getting off track, so stop flirting with me. Whereâs my freakinâ dad?! Whereâs Cal?â IÂ almost screamed the question, which spooked him and made his finger tighten on the trigger. My foot darted out, sweeping his leg and forcing him to wobble and lose his footing, the gun firing up into the air rather than at any civilians. I thanked my lucky stars that Iâd decide to train in kick-boxing, rolling the guy off his ass and onto his stomach, cuffing him as Beau, Jenny and Cassie ran onto the scene, the former two about to yell out-
âSHERIFFâS DEPARTMENT!â
There it is.
Beau managed to get me off del Campo, while Jenny hauled him off to the waiting cops. I was roughly turned around to face a very angry sheriff, who, in my adrenaline rush, just looked like an angry pug. âWhat were you doing?!â He hissed, his grip like a vice on my shoulder. I glared up at him, gently prying his fingers off me to give him a moment to calm down.
âMy job.â I responded instantly, completely and utterly unapologetic. As if I had a reason to be otherwise. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling calm and chill despite just having stared down the barrel of a gun. âWhy, there somethinâ wrong with that?â
âWeâre not having this discussion here. In my car, now. Jennyâll take yours back to your house.â To say the car ride was silent was an understatement. It felt like even dust falling would set some sort of bomb off, and the last time I saw Beau this furious was when he found out Emily was kidnapped. When we pulled up to my house, we went in through the door-
âWhy the hell did you go in there without backup?!â He almost shouted, looking furious. His eyes were wide, green eyes looking like a forest fire and jaw set until he decided to tone it down a little. âLook, I know you have a long-standing relationship with mortal peril and a side piece called danger but you donât have to go in cahoots with âem every time it takes your fancy.â
âThatâs one way of putting it.â I muttered to myself before raising my voice so he could hear. âSheriff, I get that youâre concerned, but this is what I signed up for. I didnât do it because it was my singular option, itâs my passion. Being here, savinâ lives, and Cal is who knows where.â
âThat does not warrant you to hightail it to heaven! Iâm not havinâ it!â He paused, breathing out and rubbing a hand down his mouth to compose himself, breathing in before adding something that piqued my interest. âNot again.â
I was about to ask him âwhat the hell are you talking aboutâ, but I employed my brain cells and figured out what he was saying. âYour partner. Back in Houston.â I saw him look away, biting his lip for a split second, and my hand twitched before reaching up. See, I previously had cupping his cheek in mind, but my brain made a split second decision and took his shoulder instead, the moment that my mind made said decision probably warping my hand coordination and making it sign god knows what in ASL. âSheriff, what happened?â
âOnly thing you need to know is that it was all my fault.â Beau whispered, his eyes still averted from mine. I shook my head, gritting my teeth behind closed lips.
âI donât believe that for a goddamn second.â I refused, scoffing a little. âPlease, trust me.â
Beau searched my eyes, his own green ones seeming pleading as he tried to find any reason to not trust me with this information, but I remained steadfast. âItâŠâ He paused, rubbing a hand down his mouth. âI, uh, was tracking down a syndicate. With my partner, Rob Nixon, one oâ the best men Iâll ever meet. When we did track âem, we thought one of us should act as a potential buyer for their product. Rob ended up being that guy, and we got him to wear a wire, our team was listening in and I was leading another in a silent infiltration. I didnât get there in time. They burned him-â His voice cracked, and his now misty eyes tried to seek solace in the ceiling, âthey burned him, Belle. Knew he was a cop. By the time I got there, theyâd put four bullets in him. Four bullets that I had to explain to his family.â
I instantly melted, gazing at him with nothing but sympathy and heartache. âSheriffâŠâ
âI donât want you to go too.â He whispered, shaking his head before taking my hand, kissing the knuckle. I swallowed, blushing slightly. âI donât wanna look to my side and find that youâre not there. Itâs⊠pretty damn⊠selfish, but I canât help it. You brought my girl back to me, Deputy. You did that, and I owe my life to you for that.â
âNo, itâs ok.â I nodded, pulling him in gently for a hug, stroking his hair. âIâll stay as long as you want me to. Itâs not selfish, itâs human.â I paused for a second, then sighed. âAnd Iâll stop being a self destructive idiot, ok? Iâll go in the line of fire once Iâve healed.â I broke away from him, my hand stroking down his cheek, but then I felt that it got awkward, so I dropped the hand back to his shoulder, patting it nervously. âIâm sorry I worried you. I just⊠canât seem to stay down for long.â
âYeah, youâre one stubborn lilâ lady.â He agreed instantly, lightening up a little. âCanât seem to wrap my head around you, and, trust me, I can get around a wrap just fine.â He patted his stomach for emphasis. âOne day youâre as sweet as cherry pie, and when youâre on the field, youâre - hell - youâre like Wonder Woman with a Kansas accent.â
âIâll take that compliment proudly, because Gal Gadot is gor-geous.â I grinned, tongue tracing my canine like it always did, then it faded into a sort of soft smile as I looked up at him, thoughts running through my head like they were doing the 100 metre sprint at the Olympics. âOut of all people to have my back, especially when I donât want âem to⊠Iâm glad itâs you.â
âWho else, hm?â He nudged me with a snort. âGotta keep this Southern Belle alive, ainât that right?â
âDamn straight.â
âDo we have a lock on the countryside?â I giggled at my own joke as I wheeled my chair over to Mo, shovelling instant noodles in my mouth despite them being piping hot. Donât blame me, there wasnât anything faster. âYâknow, since del Campo translates to the countryside- itâs fine, just⊠give me the deets.â I saved myself the embarrassment by stuffing more noodles into my mouth.
âRuiz del Campo.â Mo showed me a picture of Ruiz with a grimace. âBeen taken in for assault, aggravated assault, B ânâ E, drunk and disorderly, history in recreational substance abuse, drug trafficking, organised crimeâŠâ
âDamn, country boy, youâve been busy.â I whistled lowly, staring at the list of deeds. âSomeone definitely got coal in their stocking this year.â
âHe wonât talk.â Jenny groaned, storming up to us with Beau hot on her heels. I swivelled my chair to face them with a curious look. Weâd decided that to preserve this guyâs health and his knowledge, I couldnât be the one to go in. Itâs a smart choice; Iâd resort to torture.âHe keeps on trying to exercise his right to a phone call.â
âHe does realise that all that monkey business never happens in real life? That you donât get a freaking phone call?â Beau added with a scoff, averting his eyes as his hands went to his hips.
âI think thatâs him tryna piss you off.â I sighed, leaning back on my chair and clicking the button on my pen over and over. âSeems to me like itâs working.â
âI hate my job sometimes.â
âDid anyone need lunch?â Dean came in, carrying four full plastic bags and sporting a wide as hell smile. He put them down, taking out everyoneâs favourite takeout meal and handing it to them.
Beau took his with a boyish grin, chuckling. âI freaking love my job. I take back what I said.â
âCourse you will.â I took my takeaway, a Paneer Tikka Masala, from Dean with a grin. âThanks, De. You didnât have to do this.â
âWell, I was talking Liv for her date with this Tom guy, so I figured Iâd pick up some lunch for yâall.â Dean chuckled.
âWhere do you find these guys, huh, Belle?â Beau clapped me on the shoulder before taking a large bite of his favourite sandwich from Blue Fox diner. âMm! Sâheaven. Straight heaven.â
âIsabelle?â I heard the familiar voice of Markham Leeds as he walked in, expression surly and contorting into shock and then sneering once he saw Dean. âI was going to ask where Olivia was, but, uh, looks like I walked in at the wrong time.â
âAwkward.â
A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. âEvening, sir, can I help you?â
âYeah, thanks, man.â The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. âIâm, uh, Iâm lookinâ for my son. His nameâs Tom Holden. Have you seen him?â
âHe went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.â Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the manâs character. âWhy, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, yâknow.â
âOh, thatâd be great.â He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. âJust tell him his old manâs in town, yeah?âÂ
âDoes his old man have a name?â Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.
âOh! Oh, yeah.â The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. âHarry. Harry Holden.â
LMF TAGLIST:
@nancymcl
@deans-spinster-witch
@hobby27
@thej2report
@winharry
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Montanaâs Thor Odinson
Hahaha, I love this description of Cormac.
Oh, her estranged father is in town. What does he want?
Donno!! Love Donno and am happy to see him make an appearance. I could absolutely hear him in the conversation he had with her.
Oh no, who was that at the diner?! Why were they after her?!
Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: âI thought Iâd swore off love, Jenny.â I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. âGod, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just⊠I couldnât help it.â I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. âItâs improper, but itâs true.â
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to cafekitsune)
A/N - Feedback is my fuel â€ïž
three - landslide
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
I looked down at my hands, the hands that couldâve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.
Not that Iâm not the best option, but if Iâd picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, Iâd see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didnât know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.
The one of many times someoneâs success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.
I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucyâs murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didnât want to go through that again. Not the false hope that Iâd get somewhere. I didnât need it, I didnât want it, I couldnât handle it. Iâd possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.
I hadnât had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldnât have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.
Even if I didnât want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sisterâs murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.
I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind whoâd help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. âHey, darlinâ.â I heard Beauâs voice from the other end, cherry as ever. âWhat can I do for ya?â
âHey, Sheriff.â I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. âWhat dâyou say to reopening a cold case?â
I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. âThis is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didnât go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.â
âTough case, huh?â Beau sighed, folding his arms. âNo prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ainât giving you much to work with.â
âNo kidding.â Jenny looked over the case files. âLucy didnât have any enemies, by what this file says.â
âShe didnât.â I shook my head, sitting on the table. âLuce, she was⊠an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. Iâll be damned if anyone hated her.â
âNo motive.â Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. âCould this just be a random crazed psycho?â
âNo.â I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. âCanât be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ainât resting until I find them.â
âDo we at least have any leads?â Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. âAny at all?â
âThe cassette.â I shrugged. âItâs the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, itâs Lucyâs 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doinâ bad karaoke in the living room.â
âSo this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.â
âSomebody was sending threats.â Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. âThink about it. Her voice ainât exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.â
âA necklace.â My head perked up, my fingers snapping. âOne of âem, it contained a ravenâs feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.â
âSo sheâd know it symbolises death and/or loss.â Jenny added, nodding. âThatâs a start.â
âThat also narrows it down.â Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. âSomebody had to know sheâd understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.â He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. âAt least youâre closer than you were before.â
âHold on, though.â I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. âIf thatâs the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me⊠why now? Why at Oliviaâs sweet sixteen?â
âMaybe it was something personal, something important to her.â Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. âMaybe she wanted Oliviaâs sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.â
âThatâs whatâs stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, Iâd understand, I donât get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesnât make a lick of sense.â
âIs Lucyâs phone still kept safe?â Beau asked, deep in thought. âMaybe thereâs some voicemails on there.â
âIâll have to dig them up.â I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadnât seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I donât know why I saved the number.
âWho is it, darlinâ?â Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.
âAgain with the darlinâ?â Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. âCal Joyner.â
âThe cheating dad Cal Joyner?â
âYeah.â I nodded breathily. âHeâs⊠here. In Montana.â
âYour dad in town, the cassette tape, this canât be a coincidence. If it is, Iâll eat my hat. And trust me,â He chuckled deeply, âI love my hat.â
âThereâs also how you canât eat a hat.â Jenny contradicted with a judging look.
âIâm the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.â
âRight, letâs get off the subject of eating hats.â I interrupted with a snicker. âIâll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucyâs death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.â I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. âSound good?â
âSounds like a plan.â
I didnât find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassieâs office, knocking before opening the door to find⊠Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.
Well, itâs not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickinâ desk.
âWoah, Cassie, get some.â I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. âYou too, Cormac, havenât forgotten you. Montanaâs Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a moâ?â
âGladly.â Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. âBeau and Jenny wonât hear a thing.â
âThank you.â She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.
âYouâre welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.â I frowned, running a hand through my hair. âWeâre reopening my sisterâs case.â
âOh, damn.â
âIndeed. Weâll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dadâs in town too, so Iâll have to see whatâs up with that.â
âWait- Cal Joyner?â Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. âCheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?â
âThe very same.â I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. âYeah, so I have to find out why heâs in town now when evidence from my sisterâs case has suddenly resurfaced.â
âIâll get on that with Denise.â
âYeah, and Iâm sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.â I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.
âYouâre not going to let me live that down, are you?â She sighed.
âNo, absolutely not.â
I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucyâs broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Momâs arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucyâs eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucyâs sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbourâs son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.
My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guyâs brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldnât fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didnât look at me the way they used to anymore.
Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the âwithdrawal symptomsâ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.
Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)
I couldnât help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so heâd get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didnât even feel real at this point.
After that point, Iâd sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sisterâs murderer, Iâd neglected what I really needed to preserve. So Iâd set up a rule - that men werenât my priority.
âAunt Isa?â Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.
âYeah, sweetheart? Itâs late; are you ok?â I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didnât wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. âCâmere, darlinâ.â She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. âPenny for your thoughts?â
âNightmare. About momâs death.â
âYou didnât see your mom dyinâ, sweetie.â I kissed her hair lovingly. âIt wasnât real.â
âI imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.â I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.
âOh, Liv.â I whispered, kissing her forehead. âSweetheart, I donât know what to say. Iâm so sorry you had to imagine that.â
âIs this how you felt?â She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. âWhen you⊠when you found her?â
I paused, thinking about it. âIf I was to describe it, itâd be like my worldâs walls were fallinâ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ainât due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopinâ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldnât be more prouder of you, wherever she is.â
âYou think so?â
âI know so.â I nuzzled my cheek on her head. âYouâre such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, sheâd never wanna let you go.â I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone âloveâ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tapeâŠ
I couldnât focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.
âI took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...â
I was sitting in Jennyâs kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since Iâd handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didnât respond to or react to. Beauâs eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. âThatâs Harry the jackass. Why are you lookinâ at photos of Harry the jackass?â
âHeâs with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.â I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.
âI see the appeal.â He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. âI mean, sheâs gorgeous-â
âBeau!â Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He⊠thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasnât good enough?
âIâm messinâ with you!â Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. âSweetheart, Harry the jackass doesnât even know who heâs lost. This Rhea girl? Doesnât even hold a candle to you. Sheâs an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlinâ. He doesnât deserve you.â
âThanks, Sheriff.â I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beauâs shoulder, giving him a look that said âI was about to rip your head offâ. âYou got me there for a second.â
âI got Hoyt too.â
âYes, he did.â Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. âIf youâd said that truthfully, no joking, Iâd rain down hellfire.â
âWell, Iâm glad I was just poking some fun.â Beau smirked, then patted my knee. âYouâre gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ainât no messing around there.â
I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. âTalk to me, Cassie.â I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.
âHey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.â
âCormac, huh?â
âYes. Now, weâre keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.â
âGotcha.â I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. âSheriff, can I have you as backup? So I donât blow up at my dad?â
âYeppers, letâs go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.â He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.
âBeau, as be nice as you can.â Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.
âSorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,â Beau made finger guns at me, âthen I hate him.â He turned the finger guns on himself. âCanât help it, itâs principle. Now, câmon, Belle. Letâs meet this dude.â
I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. âDâyou mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?â He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donnoâs sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.
âElle.â He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but Iâd come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.
âDonno.â I grinned, feeling more at ease. âNice to see you again.â
âYou too.â His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. âYou were shot.â His eyes narrowed slightly. âAre you ok?â
âI was shot, good eye.â I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. âBut hey, Iâm doing fine. Healing.â
âGood. I donât like seeing you hurt.â Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. âThatâs your dad. If youâre looking for him.â
I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. âThanks, Donno.â
âYou and Sheriff. You make a good couple.â
I didnât really know what to say to that. âUh⊠thank you, but weâre not a couple.â And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. âCal Joyner.â
âCan I help you?â He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.
âSheriff Beau Arlen, sir.â Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. Iâd mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.
âDeputy Isabelle Joyner.â I added, which, as expected, made Calâs eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.
âIsabelle?â He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. âYouâre⊠oh, God. Itâs really you. My little girl.â
âBack up for a moment, cowboy, Iâm not here for a family reunion.â I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. âIâm here to know why youâre in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.â
âIt was my granddaughterâs sixteenth birthday.â He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. âI had to visit, right? But this townâs so big, i-itâs hard to find anybody-â
âYouâre lying.â Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.
âExcuse me, young man?â
âFlattered, but Iâm forty. Ainât that young.â
âHeâs right, Cal. Youâre lying.â I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, heâd had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.
âIsabelle.â Cal gasped in disbelief. âCupcake, youâll believe this man over your father?â
âNot to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so Iâm sure I can trust him over a man whoâs been out of my life for thirty seven years.â Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. âYouâre fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I donât see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?â
âYou canât.â He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.
âThere it is. The one thing I couldnât do and never did: trust you.â I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.
âSee here, Mr Joyner, you are Belleâs father, and I will respect you that much, but a lotâs happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.â He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. âNow, youâre gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or weâre gonna find out usinâ methods that you wonât approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.â
âItâs good that you elaborated.â
âYeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.â Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. âStay put.â
âYou know I canât do that.â I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasnât healed yet, so I couldnât fight.
âStay. Put.â He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. âSheriffâs department, hands where I can see âem!â My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.
âElle!â She cried out, looking terrified. âBehind you!â I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time.
After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.
Neither of them felt great.
I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beauâs shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall⊠what the guy looked like. I could remember⊠grey hair, possibly Mexican⊠or Hispanic⊠strong⊠build⊠6â 4ââŠ
âBelle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backupâŠâ
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Love, Arty đ
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Finally, after a busy week got time to catch up on this series.
I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.
Oh... what happened to her back then?
Aw, she had a lot of visitors at the hospital. In the words of Beau...
I like the idea of the shoebox... that's really sweet. Oh, there's a mystery tape in there! Is that going to reveal some of the mystery of what happened to her sister?
Beauâs hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there.
Can see him doing this... silently offering his support.
The end if the tape recording...
it was always you and me. You... and me.
Is that a little Spn Easter egg there?
âlast time I investigated my sisterâs murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ânâ run.â I exhaled the breath, âAinât my finest moment.â
Ah is that what happened to her six years ago?
âIsabelle.â Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.
Urgh... this guy doesn't give up, does he? I did smile at the salt line.
"What d'ya say to reopening a cold case?"
Ooooh đ
Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: âI thought Iâd swore off love, Jenny.â I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. âGod, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just⊠I couldnât help it.â I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. âItâs improper, but itâs true.â
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to cafekitsune)
A/N - feedback is my fuel :)
two - sunflower
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.
âItâs ok.â I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. âItâs ok, sweetheart. As for you,â My eyes focused on the man, âSheriffâs department, put your hands where I can see âem-â He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.
âHe hurt you.â She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.
âHey, itâs-â I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, âitâs ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, youâre safe, ok?â I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. âJust calm down for me, my friends are coming.â
As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harrietâs kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. âJesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, weâre gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!â Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harrietâs hair, not wanting her to get too scared.
âJust get her out of here.â I nodded to Harriet. âIâll hold on, just keep her safe.â My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beauâs bare forearm. âTake her home.â
NOW:
The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkinâ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.
The hospital.
âGod, itâs been a while since I was in one of these.â I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.
âYouâre awake, Deputy Joyner.â She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. âMy nameâs Lydia, Iâm your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if thatâs fine with you.â
âHow long have I been out?â I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.
âSix days. You suffered from blood loss, so itâs understandable.â The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Livâs birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.
âA-Alright. Whoâre my visitors?â
âQuite a few, actually. Thereâs Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.â I wasnât surprised that Mark wasnât on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that Iâd be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.
âLet âem in.â I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. âGuys, Iâm ok.â
âThe hell you are, you had a bullet in you!â Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.
âWell, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.â
âIâd say itâs nice to see you, but youâre in a hospital bed, so Iâm gonna say itâs nice to see you alive.â
âDonât hog her, dad.â Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldnât get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.
âIâll always have time for my baby girl.â I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. âIâm ok, sweetie. Iâm safe.â I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Livâs back. âHey, kiddo.â
âHey, Elle.â Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.
âGivinâ your dad any trouble?â
âNo, no trouble.â
âGood.â I then let go of Olivia, kissing my nieceâs forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. âYâall need to stop lookinâ at me like that. Iâll be up and about in a few hours, like hell Iâm missing my girlâs sweet sixteen.â
âYou need to rest up, Belle.â Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. âYou took a bullet to the gut.â
âIâll rest up when Iâm dead.â I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didnât strain myself.
âEasy, easy.â He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. âDonât push yourself, ok?â
âYou got sent presents.â Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. âThe Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.â
âSo they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.â Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. âWeâre so glad youâre ok.â
âBo-Bo, she deserves a raise.â Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.
âShush, Denise, Iâm doing my job.â I chuckled. âThe one I signed up to do, remember? Youâre bound to get a bullet or two out there.â
The next day, it was Oliviaâs birthday, and Iâd gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.
âHey, Luce.â I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. âItâs been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. Sheâs grown up to be so⊠so beautiful, so you.
Youâd be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and weâre all the better for it.â I laughed a bit, then looked back. âI wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope youâre watching. Wherever you are. Love you.â I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. âI love you so much.â
âAunt Isa?â I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.
This was my sisterâs daughter.
âLiv, honey.â I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. âYou look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.â
âReally?â
âReally. If I made a daughter from scratch, Iâd want her to be you.â The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. âHappy birthday, sweetheart.â
âThanks, auntie.â
When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. âOh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.â
âAâŠâ Livâs eyes narrowed, âshoebox?â
âSounds lame, I know. ButâŠâ I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with âOliviaâ written in Lucyâs neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.
Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucyâs favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a ravenâs feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.
But something caught my eye.
I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.
Sunflower.
While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.
âThereâs my Southern Belle, all up anâ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what Iâd call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.â He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. âAnd you, young lady, must be Olivia.â
âThatâs me.â Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. âAnd you must be Aunt Isaâs favourite sheriff.â
âWhile I appreciate it, Iâm the only sheriff.â
âExactly.â
âLiv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? Iâve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.â I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.
âSomethingâs up, right?â He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. âTalk to me, Belle.â
I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. âTitled âsunflowerâ. Itâs the nickname my sister used to call me, so I canât help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.â
âOr something that got mixed up in the wrong box.â
âThatâs also a possibility.â I nodded, then pouted in thought. âIâve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Livâs celebration here is over and sheâs out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lilâ listen to it?â
âSounds like a plan.â Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. âThatâs Lucy, huh?â
âYeah.â
âShe looks just like her sister.â He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. âHow much older was she?â
âEight years.â I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didnât quite register it.
âAh, so sheâd be lordinâ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff canât escape the clutches of an older sister.â
âNeither can a forty year old deputy.â I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day Iâd skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.
My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-
âHey, Deputy.â Beauâs low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones Iâd grown to trust with my life. âYou doinâ ok?â
âI⊠yeah.â I nodded, cracking a smile. âLetâs go celebrate my baby girlâs birthday, hm?â Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.
âThere she is!â Jenny grinned, pointing to me.
âDeputy of the Month.â Poppernak added with a smile.
âPops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?â I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. âCarla, itâs so good to see you.â
âYou too.â She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. âBeau told me about the shooting; are you ok?â
âPerfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.â I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had âHappy Birthday Oliviaâ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Oliviaâs temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. âYour momâs necklace suits you.â
âHey, kiddo.â Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Oliviaâs sake. âIsabelle.â
âMarkham.â
âI got Oliviaâs present.â He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. âLook, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-â
âI think Iâm good.â I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. âI can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.â
He lowered his voice so Olivia couldnât hear. âI donât appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.â
âCan we not talk about this on my nieceâs birthday?â I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. âIâd hate to dampen everyone elseâs parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.â
Markâs grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.
Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.
âWhen youâre ready.â Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucyâs voice.
âHey, sunflower.â It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beauâs hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that Iâd known since I was born and even before that. âI donât know if youâll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I⊠I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didnât want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You⊠and me. Never forget that.â
âLuce.â I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. âWhat were you hiding from me?â
âIâm so sorry, Elle.â Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.
âMy apologies, sweetheart.â Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.
My sisterâs murder case wasnât as open and shut as Iâd initially thought, and it terrified me.
I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-
âBelle.â Beauâs voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldnât help but relax to - like a lifeline.
Like the only lifeline I had.
âYeah, Iâm with you, justâŠâ I took a deep breath in, âlast time I investigated my sisterâs murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ânâ run.â I exhaled the breath, âAinât my finest moment.â
I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.
âIsabelle.â Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.
It didnât work. Just. My. Luck.
âMarkham.â I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sisterâs memory. âWhat can I do for you?â
âIâm not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.â He frowned, leaning forward slightly. âI am Oliviaâs father, and you need to give custody over to me.â
âAnd Iâm not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.â I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. âLucy left me as Oliviaâs legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, sheâs your stepdaughter. Iâd rather let Dean be her legal guardian.â
âI donât trust Dean.â
âYou donât trust anyone!â
âLook, he just doesnât come off as the good guy to me.â Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.
âAnd you do?â I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.
âI never said that.â
âSounds like you did.â
âI just think Olivia would be safer with me.â
âOk, Mark, let me make this very clear.â I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather⊠menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. âI donât want my night of peaceful drinkinâ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my nieceâs birthday party. Iâm not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ainât keen on sending her to you. I do that when Iâm on duty, but when Iâm not, sheâs with me. And itâll stay that way, yâhear?â
Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. Iâd had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.
âYou⊠and me. Never forget that.â I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucyâs voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.
It was always you and me.
It was, wasnât it?
I looked down at my hands, the hands that couldâve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.
Not that Iâm not the best option, but if Iâd picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, Iâd see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didnât know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.
The one of many times someoneâs success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.
I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucyâs murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didnât want to go through that again. Not the false hope that Iâd get somewhere. I didnât need it, I didnât want it, I couldnât handle it. Iâd possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.
I hadnât had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldnât have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.
Even if I didnât want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sisterâs murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.
I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind whoâd help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. âHey, darlinâ.â I heard Beauâs voice from the other end, cherry as ever. âWhat can I do for ya?â
âHey, Sheriff.â I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. âWhat dâyou say to reopening a cold case?â
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PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE
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I was not expecting that ending. This is beautifully heartbreaking
Stay With Me
A Supernatural Story
~Dean is into his second bottle of whiskey, desperate to drive his problems away. But he knows deep down, the booze isn't what he truly needs...~
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
1,390 Words
Warnings: Bittersweet Angst
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In one fluid motion, he cracked the seal on the new bottle of whiskey and plopped back down into his chair. The old seat groaned and the wheels rolled back a bit, sliding with the force of his weight over the polished floor.
Dean poured himself another healthy shot and stared down into the glass, enjoying how the light from the glowing table beneath set the crystal aflame. His lips turned in a half smile and he sighed.
âIf you hold it up to the light at the right angle, you can see a rainbow.â
Y/Nâs voice hit his ear and he lifted the glass to his lips, smiling even wider as she came into view.
Dressed in his old green flannel and seemingly nothing else, she leaned against the archway, arms and bare ankles crossed. He looked up and licked a drop of drink from his lips, savoring the taste and the way she looked. Her hair was a beautiful mess, the dayâs makeup smudged around her eyes like she had meant it to look that way. Her mouth still held a faint stain from her faded lipstick and she pouted as he stared, driving his mind towards unholy thoughts.
âRough day?â she asked, pushing off the tiles to walk slowly towards him.
âYou should know,â he sighed around the rim of the tumbler. âYou were with me.â
Y/N nodded and pulled out the chair across from him. âTrue.â
He eyed her over the glass, loving the way she sat down so delicately only to slump against the back of the chair. She leaned back and kicked her feet up onto the map, toes casting a shadow over Brazil.
âBut really, it wasnât that bad,â she teased. âNot bad enough for a second bottle of bourbon, anyway.â
âItâs whiskey,â he corrected.
She shrugged. âSame thing.â
Dean shook his head and set the glass down, fingers lingering on the sharp edges of the design. âNot true. Bourbon is always whiskey, but whiskey ainât always bourbon. This is just straight up, get ya drunk, forget your life for a few hours whiskey.â
She knocked her feet off the table and turned to face him head on. âAnd why would you want to forget your life, Mr. Winchester? Whatâs so horrible lately that youâd want it to go away?â
He laughed sadly, bowing his head, avoiding her eyes. âOh, you know me. Just being overdramatic.â
Y/N leaned forward and set her clasped hands in front of her. The ring heâd given her glinted in the warm golden light from below and Deanâs gaze was locked on the antique silver and brilliant red stone.
He remembered when they saw it in that little shop outside Paramus. The old hippie behind the counter told them that carnelian was special, used for protection and to ward off evil spirits. Y/N had laughed so brilliantly when she heard that, rolling her eyes at the thought of a cheap little ring keeping the demons away. Her smile had been so beautiful that Dean doubled back later that day and purchased the ring for her.
She never took it off.
âDean Winchester, you are never overdramatic,â she asserted. âMedium dramatic, sure. A little crazy sometimes? We all are. But never overdramatic. Under dramatic if anything.â
She winked and Deanâs shoulders relaxed, his heart melting for her like it did every time she was close by. He was quiet for a long moment, just studying her face. Memorizing the way the lights and shadows played on her cheeks, the unique line of her nose, the fan of lashes curved over her pretty eyes. She was engraved in his mind, her face always hiding just behind his closed eyes.
âUnder dramatic, huh?â He took a sip and let the whiskey burn his tongue a bit before swallowing. His mouth was mostly numb by now, but the little bit at the roof of his mouth still felt and that feeling needed to be punished.
âYou know Iâm right,â she grinned and sat back. âI always am.â
Dean chuckled and drained the glass. âSure are.â
It was an old joke between them. She was always right no matter the situation, no matter the topic being discussed. The unwritten rule was that even when wrong, Y/N was always right. She also seemed to win every single competition and argument. A smile could get her out of trouble, a pout would break him enough to roll over and let her win. Every single time.
âYouâre damned right, Winchester. Iâm always right.â She dipped her chin and stared at him, gorgeous eyes peeling back the mask he so often hid behind. âSo, spill. Whatâs wrong?â
Dean licked his lips and tried to look away. âIâm fine.â
She clicked her tongue. âBull. Whatâs going on?â
Again, he tried to tear his eyes away, but he was locked in her gaze, trapped by her voice. âNothing.â
With a huff, she stood up and kicked the chair away with her right foot. It coasted across the floor until it hit the wall and spun around on itself.
Slowly, she walked around the table and perched on the edge next to him. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the sweet smell of her. Faint coconut and something sugary filled his senses and Dean leaned back with a squeak of antique coils.
Y/N reached for his glass and Dean watched as she lifted it to her lips, held her breath, took a long sip. She shivered as it burned down her throat and coughed gently.
âThis is terrible,â she laughed, setting the tumblr back down.
He nodded. âItâs not great.â
âSo, whatâs got you trying to kill your liver with the worst fucking whiskey Iâve ever tasted?â
She wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, spreading her knees just enough to touch his leg with her toes. He melted into the touch and fought back a fresh wave of tears.
He knew she wouldnât let it go until he confessed, knew sheâd keep on teasing and prodding until he gave her what she wanted. But he couldnât say it aloud, couldnât let the words leave his head and fly out into the world.
If he did, she would leave.
He needed her there, just for a little while longer.
Needed to smell her coconut lotion, feel her toes on his thigh, see her sweet smile. He needed to hear her say his name in that sweet, secret tone she only used with him.
A single tear slipped through his defenses, sliding carelessly down his cheek.
Y/N gasped under her breath and reached for it, wiping the wet away with the soft pad of her thumb. âOh, baby⊠itâs ok.â
Before she could pull away, Dean grabbed her wrist. He wrapped his fingers tight around her arm and held her there, letting her heat fill his mind, soothe the pain.
âItâs not OK, Y/N/N,â he whispered. He closed his eyes and took a breath, one last drink of her air, her being. âI- I donât want you to go.â
She leaned forward, dropped a kiss to the top of his head. âI have to, Dean. You know that.â
Drunken tears flowed freely; his throat closed tight. âPlease,â he begged, close to choking on his grief. âStay with me. Just a little bit longerâŠâ
Y/N sighed and slid down off of the table, her hand still locked in his. âIâm sorry, baby. I have to go.â She chewed her lip and smiled softly. âBut Iâll always be with you. I promise.â
Green eyes rose to her face. She was haloed in something brighter than the Bunkerâs lights, something sacred, some glow cast down from Heaven.
âPlease⊠Stay with me.â
Her image began to fade but her smile never did.
Dean closed his eyes, kissed her hand, whispered her name into the empty room.
She was gone again, drawn back into his memory, a ghost only in his whiskey addled mind.
He knew she wasnât really there when she appeared- heâd set the pyre ablaze himself. But still, whenever he met the bottom of a bottle, heâd dream her up and feel her spirit around him. Nights like these he wondered if maybe, if somehow⊠she had stayed with him.
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I really enjoyed this. It's an interesting idea that I think fits in well with Benâs thoughts/ ideas regarding 'The Blue Lady'.
The Road to the Good Place
Fandom: Dark Angel
Character: Ben | x5-493
Word count: 1414
Warning: Angst, broken promises, talk of death and violence
A note: From the Fanfic Lounge weekly challenge prompt: Your character gets to heaven only to find that the judgment is entirely based on how many promises they've broken.
Ben remembers hearing the Manticore guards closing in on them in the forest while he was fighting with Max. He threw some mean blows, but he didnât really want to hurt her; he just wanted to be done. With everything. He barely registered the hurt when his knee snapped backward. He didnât really care about living in the outside world. He tried to fit in. For years he tried, though nothing was as he had imagined. Life in the real world was hard for everyone, especially for an awkward and isolated child. But Manticore was worse.
The roar of the helicopter in his ears, as loud and clear as his heartbeat, meant the end for him. He asked his sister to not let them take him back and he's quite sure she did that last favor for him, even if he probably didn't deserve it.
He cannot see Max at his side anymore or hear the helicopter, but he swears he hears her cry softly in the distance, the sound fading. She made him talk about the Good Place just before the world disappeared. Maybe thatâs where he is right now.
In the Good Place, nobody gets yelled at, and you can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning. Even if you are a child soldier turned serial killer.Â
The morning sun shines brightly, almost blinding him. He rubs his eyes with his fists, as he did as a child, then blinks to focus on the scenery around him. He is not in a bed, yet he is lying on his back on something soft. The undergrowth of a different forest cushions his frame and no part of his body aches. Max did it; she stopped him from spiraling further down the rabbit hole of insanity and prevented Manticore from capturing him.
Ben arches his neck back to drop his head to the ground, smiling at the bright sky and the nature around him. This must be the Good Place, where all sins are washed away and the Blue Lady provides for those who believe in her.
He can see a stream flowing gently a few steps away and on the surface of the lazy water he sees the reflection of a bright blue light. Could it be Her?
He swiftly rolls into a sitting position to catch a glimpse of the Blue Lady. But he sees nothing except a handkerchief with a medallion of the Virgin Mary placed neatly on the soft dirt near him.
âFunny how the Styx and the Pishon are two of the great rivers known to men, and yet for you, a genetically enhanced human, they merge and show up as a mere trickle of muddy water. Your road to Heaven is kind of pathetic, to be honest.â
When Ben turns, as quick as lightning, thereâs a man in a suit standing behind him. Or something that looks like a man but surely isnât. The thing smiles at him with a certain amount of contempt, gesturing to its physical form:
âYou see this humanoid shape because your imagination is crippled. Itâs a shame because Iâm told you were a delightful storyteller a mere 10 years ago, which requires a healthy dose of creativity and intuition. As a child, you might have perceived my true form, my six wings and four faces.â
Ben never really paid much attention to organized religion. Even if he found statues of the Blue Lady in some Catholic churches, when priests talk of Her, they get it all wrong. But his eidetic memory caught on to the concept of angels in western religions and his instinct tells him that the thing that looks like a bald and bold man in his late fifties is one of those mythic creatures. They were messengers or warriors, but this angel, although definitely powerful, doesnât look like he was built to fight. So it must be one of the former kind, here to tell him about Her.
âWhen will I see the Blue Lady?â
The angel scuffed:
âDid you really think you could ask someone to snap your neck and, VoilĂ ! your biggest wish would be granted? Tsk, tsk. And I thought you had superior intelligence as well as speed and strength.â
Ben can feel his forehead crinkle. An uneasy feeling creeps into his stomach; maybe heâs not exactly where he thought he was. If only because the creature in front of him is pretty close to yelling.Â
Without even realizing it, he slowly backs away from the angel. His foot shifts the medallion of the Virgin he left on the ground. When his eye catches the reflection of the metal in the sun, he has the compulsion to pick it up. Clenching the medallion in his fist makes him feel better and reassures him a little. Even if he is now confronted with someone who cannot hide his disgust of him:
âIn the end, youâre just another ignorant hairless ape, arenât you? You really know nothing of Osiris and Anubis, or Minos andâŠâ
The angel sighs as if burdened with the worst task in the world.
âI guess Iâll make it simple for you: youâre not in Heaven yet. You have to follow the stream to get there. But before that, you have to be judged. On all the promises you broke. From what I know⊠Good luck passing the Pearly Gates.â
Ben hasn't heard any of his biological functions since Max disappeared - he is now dead after all - but it's as if his heart has stopped for a second time. His eyes close as he bows his head.
How many promises has he broken in his miserable life?
His pledge to Manticore to be a good little soldier; his promises to Max and the rest of his family of a better life; his solemn vow to the Blue Lady that he would do better.
He didnât keep any of those.
Even his offerings to the Blue Lady and the discipline he has imposed on himself in recent years could not make up for all his transgressions.
A great sorrow fills his entire being at the thought of never reaching the Good Place, of never seeing the benevolent Blue Lady. His eyes sting and get misty, so he purses his lips and sniffs to make the tears go away. To hide that little part of him that still believed he could be saved, that part that is now bloody and raw.
Instinctively, he clutches the medallion to his heart and averts his eyes from the smug smile of the angel. He turns his gaze to the stream, catching a glimpse of the smoky wings of the angel in the water's reflection. Funny that his imagination starts working at full power again at the exact moment the rest of him seems to shut down.
Behind the supernatural being, Ben sees a bluish-white light shaping itself into a vaguely human form. Startled, he quickly snaps his head up. It isnât just his imagination: there is a young woman glowing blue walking towards them. As she comes closer, the angel stutters and steps back. Ben can see his head getting blurry as if it wants to morph into somebody elseâs face, and the shadow of a lionâs mane obscures his bald scalp. He can see this transformation, but his attention is mainly on Her.
She looks younger than he expected, with long dark hair not at all covered by a veil. In fact, she looks a little like Max, and she has a beautiful runic pattern tattooed on her bare arms. Her smile is kind yet somewhat sad when she looks at him.
As she nears the forest patch where he is rooted, transfixed by her mere presence, she gently speaks to him:
âFollow the stream, Ben. Your road is still long and meandering, but if you promise to follow it to the end, the water will lead you where you want to go. The Styx will find you if you are true to your word. When she does, bathe in her waters: it can ensure the sanctity of an oath. Thus, making you worthy of the peace you crave.â
Ben can do nothing but stare at the Blue Lady. As she starts to fade away in a resurgence of bluish-white light, taking the angel with her, he is left with nothing but Hope. And that is more than he ever had in most of his life.
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Ooo, that was hot đ„ đ„”. With a side of drama!
I can also so clearly picture that exchange between Sam and Dean at the end there.
Opportunity
Deanâs sleeping with Cassie, and your feelings are a little more than hurt. Sam takes the opportunity to show you that he can please you better than his brother can.
PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Native American!Reader
WORD COUNT: ~1900
WARNINGS: friend-with-benefits cheating (kinda), smut, minor dirty talk, rough sex, jealousy
NOTE: This fic is relevant to the season 1 episode âRoute 666.â Edited by me - please heed the warnings and enjoy!
THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITES.
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For the first time, Deanâs sleeping with a woman other than you. You remember Cassie, her satin-pretty skin, sweet voice, and with that came the memories of Dean coming home from a night out with her, cheeks flushed, clothing disheveled.
You and Dean arenât a thing, technically. But it still stings, knowing that heâll take another woman over you.
Sam, on the other hand, isnât nearly as moody as heâd been lately. On the way back from getting food, youâd spotted him in the crappy motel gym, doing pull-ups on the small set-up in the corner. His lanky body shows promise of muscle, and sweat glistens on his skin. If he keeps this up, heâll be a beast within just a couple years.
Keep reading
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