over slowly, I blinked up at him, still feeling like I could sleep another fifty hours. The sleek black marble nightstand lamps were on and the warm illumination made Beach’s face seem older and worried. Without thought, I reached up and smoothed back his hair, my fingertips threading through the hints of silver streaking the gold here and there. “Hi, honey, who’s here?”
“Babe, brace yourself.”
Instantly I sat straight up, all thoughts of sleep gone as I reached over the edge of the bed and clutched Beach’s wrist. “What?”
A million terrible things went through my mind, everything from something happening to the club to finding out my parents were right to be paranoid and the world was crashing down around us.
What I didn’t expect him to say was, “Your mom is downstairs, and she’s been beat pretty bad.”
“Oh my God, Mimi?” I released his arm and started to roll out of bed, but he stopped me.
“No, Billie.”
Instant, raw, visceral fear had me wrapping my arms around myself in a protective gesture. “Billie?”
“Yeah.”
“Is downstairs right now? In our house?”
“Yeah.” He frowned at me. “Sarah, you okay? You just went pale as a ghost.”
Before he could say another word, I gagged, a heavy wave of nausea churning the remains of my lunch in my stomach. When my mouth filled with saliva, a sure sign I was going to puke, I shoved a concerned Beach out of the way and managed to make it to the toilet. I barfed so hard, and for so long, my stomach ached by the time I managed to calm down. An icy sweat covered my body and I slowly became aware that part of that cold came from the wet washcloth a very concerned Beach was holding against my neck.
With his cut off, and just wearing a pristine white t-shirt, his broad shoulders seemed even bigger, and I had to fight back tears as I stared into the face of the man I loved more than anything in the world.
“Water, please. And a cup with some mouthwash.”
After making sure I was propped up against the wall, he hustled over to the sink, leaving me to stare at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that made up the far wall. My reflection was less than flattering and I wondered what my mother would see when she looked at me.
I haven’t seen her since she’d broken into my house and stolen a bunch of stuff—then tried to blame it on Marley—close to three years ago. She’d tried to contact me from time to time, but I think she believed me that if I ever saw her again, I was going to the police with everything I knew about her, personal consequences be damned.
Why the hell would she show up now?
Something really bad must be going on if she’d sought me out.
Or she wanted something from me.
Beach crouched before me, his faded jeans tightening around his thick thighs as he squatted down so I didn’t have to strain my neck looking at him.
“Thanks.”
I took the cut-crystal glass and drained it, forcing my stomach to accept the liquid. After I was sure it would stay down, I rinsed my mouth out with the mouthwash really well before spitting it into the empty cup. Even as freaked out as I was, I didn’t want Beach breathing in my vomit breath.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I was just…upset.” Closing my eyes, I rubbed my temples and tried to get my shocked brain to focus. “Did you really say Billie’s here?”
Frowning at me in concern, he nodded while cracking his tattooed knuckles in agitation. “That’s right. She’s downstairs with Vance.”
“What? Why?”
He held my face with both his hands, ignoring my still sweaty skin. “Sarah, honey. Your mom…well, she’s hurting.”
Despite my best attempts to harden it, my heart instinctively ached at the thought of my mom being in pain even if I knew she deserved to burn in the fires of hell for all eternity for some of the shit she’s done, the people she’s coldheartedly ruined, and even killed.
“Oh.”
“She’s okay, had a doc look her over, but with