Death by the River (A St. Benedict Novel Book 1) Page 9

  His Leslie wouldn’t have acted like such a blubbering mess. She would have looked up at him with her surly eyes and begged for more.

  “If you mention this to anyone, you’ll lose more than that fine ass of yours. I’ll make sure your father gets fired, and his reputation as a drunk smeared across the country. No one will ever hire him again.” He tossed her shirt in her face, and she flinched. “And when I come to you wanting another go, you will give it to me, without the struggle.” He grinned. “Well, not completely without it. I liked it when you fought back.”

  Taylor grabbed her jeans and bra. With her hands trembling, she held her torn shirt to her chest and stood from the cot.

  “Go on. Find your way back to the party. And don’t let the dogs get you. They hunt around The Abbey at night.”

  Her bloodshot eyes glared at him.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention the wild dogs roaming the grounds.” He smiled, taunting her. “You’d better make a run for it. They’ll make a meal of you.”

  She didn’t even put on her clothes before running out of the room.

  Beau stayed behind, blew out the candles and straightened up. The rush of power, the pure pleasure coursing through his veins, was better than the sex. More uplifting than the strongest opioid—he would have to have it again.

  Once the blanket was neatly folded, and order restored to his little room, Beau put his flashlight back under the cot and quickly checked the corridor outside.

  Quiet. Not a sound slipped through the night.

  The air was crisp and not chilly against his sweaty skin when he stepped out from the opening in the wall. He felt strong, powerful, and like a king.

  He returned to the isolated scrap of beach where he’d left Dawn sleeping. She was in the same position—on her side with her hand tucked under her chin. He settled in next to her. How could he go from so much fun in the cells to this?

  With a sigh, he spooned behind her, his arm around her shoulders.

  She stirred at his touch and rolled over.

  “What happened?” She pressed her hand to her head.

  “You just had a few too many.” He patted her shoulder, already bored. “I’ve been here watching over you the whole time. Do you know you look like an angel when you sleep?”

  Dawn rubbed her eyes, smudging her black mascara. “Did I miss anything? I mean, did we have a good time before I passed out?”

  He sometimes wondered why he put up with her heavy makeup and lackluster mind, but through her, he was getting closer to what he really wanted.

  “We had a great time.” He sat up, wiping the sand from his long-sleeved shirt. “One of the best evenings I can remember.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.” Dawn snuggled into Beau’s shoulder.

  The weight on his shoulder got heavier.

  He shrugged. “Dawn?”

  She didn’t move.

  He put his arm around her. The play of moonlight on the water brought back a memory of the terror shining in Taylor’s eyes.

  Why was hurting her so much fun?

  The rush of power awakened something in him.

  He glimpsed Dawn’s silky hair tucked against his chest. Would she like it rough with him? She would do anything to please him, and he could try different things with her to see what he liked. The surprise, the fire in Taylor, had made the sex worthwhile. He wondered how to introduce Dawn to new things. Might be worth looking into.

  The chill in the air slipped under his shirt. Beau grew restless. He needed to get back to his party.

  “Baby, get up.” He nudged her shoulder. “I have to get you home before your curfew.”

  Dawn sat up, a little woozy. “Mom doesn’t mind if you bring me home late.”

  He stood and tugged her to her feet. “No, but your dad minds. And I don’t want him to think less of me.”

  Dawn tossed her arms around his neck. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

  Beau loosened her suffocating grip. “Lean on me.”

  He guided her off the beach and helped her through the thick brush back to the path, leading to the party.

  The music pounded in his ears by the time they returned. Couples danced in the water, some with clothes, some in their underwear. He checked the tubs of beer and wasn’t surprised to find most of the stuff already gone.

  Beau negotiated Dawn through the crowds gathered around the bonfires to stave off the cold. She stayed tucked into his side, not putting up any protest.

  He had to help her up the slim path. Her footing wasn’t so good on the slope, and she slipped on the pine needles twice, but he caught her in his arms before she hit the ground. He carried her the rest of the way, gazing down at her raccoon eyes as she tucked her head against his chest.

  There were times he did find her appealing. Like a lost puppy in need of love.

  When he reached the clearing, Beau searched for his BMW. Thank goodness he wasn’t blocked in by other cars.

  He set Dawn in her seat. Her head wobbled, and she leaned back, closing her eyes.

  “I feel sick.”

  Beau cursed under his breath. “Don’t puke in my car. I’ll leave the door open while I’m gone.”

  She grabbed the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Where are you going?”

  He pried her fingers off, hating when she got clingy. It reminded him of his mother when she drank too much.

  “I got to find Josh and Mitch and tell them I’m taking you home. They can catch a ride with someone else.”

  Dawn wiped her hand over her face. “I should tell Taylor I’m leaving with you. She gave me and Zoe a ride here.”

  He patted her shoulder and stood. With no intention of finding Taylor, he said, “I’ll let her know. I’m sure she’s still at the party.”

  Her head rolled to the side, and he guessed she had fallen back to sleep. Good. He didn’t need her getting together with Taylor, but he believed the girl would be too afraid to tell Dawn anything.

  Intimidation would keep her quiet. It worked on everyone else in town.

  Beau left Dawn and headed back to the beach. He wished he could stay, but he had to get her home. He made it a point never to give her father any reason to doubt his integrity. The last thing he needed was John Moore speaking to his father.

  His feet hit the sand at the edge of the beach and he set out for the bonfires, checking out the faces lit up by the flames. He found several members of his football team, all pairing off with girls, but there was no sign of Mitch or Josh. At the picnic tables, he searched the revelers gathered there. Some were sober, most were drunk. A few lay passed out in the sand or strewn across the picnic tables.

  No discipline.

  He found Mitch and rushed up to him. A redheaded cheerleader from Dawn’s squad was all over Mitch, but his friend’s glassy eyes and clumsy movements bothered Beau more than the girl.

  “Hey, there.” Mitch slapped his shoulder. “Where you been?”

  Beau pulled his arm off the girl and dragged him away. “Have you seen Taylor?”

  Mitch nodded. “Wise choice, my friend.”

  Beau checked a few picnic tables around them. “No, I was just wondering if she’s still here. Dawn got a ride with her, and I’m taking her home. I just wanted to let Taylor know.”

  Josh stumbled onto their spot, hooking his arm around Mitch’s waist. “Dudes. Great party, huh?” He then fell to his knees, gripping a can of beer.

  Mitch giggled like a little girl as he pointed at Josh.

  “You’re drunk.”

  Beau snatched Josh by the shoulders to keep him from tumbling forward. “Josh, have you seen Taylor?”

  Josh’s face sobered. “Yeah. I saw her headin’ to her car a while ago. She was upset about ripping up her shirt. She said she got caught on a branch or somethin’.”

  Beau contained his grin. He loved being right about people. “Can you guys get home without me? I need to see to Dawn.”

  Mitch waved his hand and almost fell backward. “We’ll b
e fine.”

  Idiots! Why do I waste my time?

  He knew why. They were part of the Beau Devereaux package. He’d spent years meticulously cultivating his outward persona—the good student, considerate son, best friend, football star, and respectful hometown boy. Suddenly the self-restraint he had fought so hard to maintain had slipped, and an addicting outlet for his ever-present rage had presented itself. From now on, the parties at the river wouldn’t give him the thrill they once had.

  Beau headed back to the parking lot, wearing an exuberant grin.

  I’ve found a much better game to play.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thud!

  Leslie popped up in bed, gaping around her darkened bedroom. She sat perfectly still, her heart pounding.

  What the hell was that?

  She tossed aside her comforter and a chill engulfed her. She stood, staring at her bedroom door and debating whether she should check out the noise.

  A faint groan came from the hallway.

  She hurried to the door and flung it open. Dawn fell into her room.

  The pungent aroma of alcohol was all over her. “What are you doing?”

  Dawn went to rub her face but half-slapped it. “I’m so wasted. Beau gave me vodka at the river.”

  “I thought your boyfriend didn’t drink.”

  “He doesn’t. He wanted me to drink so I was relaxed before we did it, but I don’t think we did do it.”

  “That’s way too much information, Dawn.” Leslie pulled her inside and shut the door.

  Dawn stayed on the floor, looking up at her. “I think I fell asleep, but even then, Beau stayed with me. Isn’t that so sweet?”

  “Yeah, he’s a regular Casanova.” Leslie knelt and helped her sit up. “I hope Mom and Dad didn’t hear you. They’ll ground your ass if they see you like this.”

  Dawn struggled to stay upright. “No, they won’t. They think Beau is a stand-up guy. Everyone thinks Beau is a stand-up guy. Even the pope loves him.”

  “You’re drunker than I thought.” Leslie hoisted her up from the floor.

  “No, it’s the truth. Everyone in town loves him. Everywhere we go, people talk to him. It’s kind of like dating a celebrity.”

  Leslie sat her down on a brass day bed, disgusted everyone in town couldn’t see what she did—the monster lurking inside Beau Devereaux.

  “I have to practically sneak around with my boyfriend, and you get a parade every time you go out with—”

  “It’s not always fun with Beau,” Dawn cut in.

  She sat back, not sure if she had heard right. Dawn gushed about Beau twenty-four seven. Was this the booze talking?

  “What did you say?”

  Dawn let out a loud sigh and flopped back on the bed. “There are times when I’m with him and I’m glad he has to take me home.”

  Her life had been turned upside down by Beau’s unwanted attention, and to finally have her sister give even the slightest hint that all was not right with her “perfect” boyfriend was a huge breakthrough.

  “I thought you were madly in love.”

  A small frown spread across Dawn’s lips. “I am, but aren’t there days when Derek gets on your nerves and you just want to get away from him?”

  “No.” Leslie shook her head, flooded with the warm, comforting sensation Derek gave her. “I could spend every day for the rest of my life with him and never regret a minute of it.”

  Dawn pushed up to her elbows. “You really do love him, don’t you? But how? He doesn’t have a dime to his name. His mother is a waitress. All he has to drive you around in is that beat-up truck, and all he can ever hope to be—”

  “You’re only looking at him from the outside in, Dawn. I see Derek from the inside. Can you say the same about Beau?” Leslie took her hand, knowing any meaningful conversation was pointless in her condition. “Come on. I’m putting you in your bed.”

  “Can’t I sleep in here with you? Like we did when we were little?” Dawn relaxed, becoming a dead weight, and impossible for Leslie to move. “We used to talk about the kind of wedding we would have and—”

  “You were the only one who talked about weddings.” Leslie waited at the foot of the bed. “You’ve always wanted to live like a princess and find Prince Charming to whisk you away to his castle. Beau isn’t him. He’s no good.”

  Dawn’s sweet countenance changed, and with a slight wobble, she rose from the brass bed. “You’re wrong. One day, I’ll be Mrs. Beau Devereaux. We’ll live in his big plantation home, and I will be a loving wife, standing by him as he runs his father’s brewery. Everything will be perfect.” With a toss of her ponytail, Dawn strolled, rather haphazardly, into the connecting bathroom.

  Prior to Beau coming into Dawn’s life, Leslie would have run after her sister and begged her to see reason. But something her father once said came back to her.

  “People are like windows, Leelee. They have to crack and shatter before they change their view.”

  * * *

  “I mean it. I can’t drink like that again,” she told him on the phone.

  Dawn kept the pillow over her eyes as she held the phone in front of her. She’d spent all day nursing the mother of all hangovers. Just the idea of drinking again made her nauseous.

  “Just meet me there, baby. I want to spend time with you tonight.”

  She liked the insistence in his voice.

  “My girl can’t stay home and leave me all alone. What would everyone think?”

  Ugh! He was right. They had to keep up appearances. Her rep as the head cheerleader would be in serious jeopardy if she didn’t attend any party at the river. Sometimes high school could be so hard.

  After hanging up with Beau, she wondered why Leelee never seemed stressed about her credibility at school. Her sister didn’t care what anyone said about her, which seemed really weird. How could you not want to be popular? If they didn’t look so much alike, she would swear someone had switched them at birth.

  What really bugged her was ignoring the gossip from her friends about Leelee’s choice in men. It hurt sometimes to listen to them talk about Derek’s mother and the run-down house they lived in. She wondered if Leslie’s problem with Beau was because of Derek’s influence. She understood her sister’s jealousy of Beau—he was the catch of the century—but she didn’t get why she hated him. Leelee had never been a spiteful person. Growing up, she had been Dawn’s rock, but lately, she’d changed. Maybe Derek was a bad influence. It would explain a lot.

  After downing more Advil, Dawn put the finishing touches on her makeup.

  Leslie walked into their shared bathroom.

  “You going out?”

  Leslie’s condescending tone almost made her stab her mascara wand in her eye. Yep, Beau was right. Total bitch.

  She reapplied the layer of mascara she had just messed up.

  “Beau and his friends are partying at the river. I’m picking up Zoe and heading over there.”

  Leslie took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. “Are you going to spend your entire senior year at the river?”

  Not another holier than thou lecture! Dawn’s hands shook with rage. “What’s wrong with the river? No, wait. Let me guess.” She brandished the mascara wand like a microphone. “‘It’s nothing but a bunch of mindless drunks screaming and screwing to music.’ Isn’t that what you said?”

  Leslie sat back on the edge of the tub, holding her knee, appearing calm—too damn calm.

  “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “How could I forget? I’d just started dating Beau and you were all pissy about it.”

  Leslie stood and cautiously approached her. The epitome of a cool, confident girl.

  “He’s not good enough for you. When are you going to see that?”

  Dawn swallowed back the hurtful things she wanted to say about Derek. But she wouldn’t stoop to Leslie’s level. For months, Leslie had taken cheap shots at Beau, even hitting on him to steal him away. Dawn knew why; to prove
a point—she wasn’t good enough for Beau. She knew her sister ached to be proven right. It was her drug. She’d always been the smartest, the brightest, the twin everyone admired, but now people admired Dawn because of the guy she’d landed.

  “Go away, Leelee. Don’t make me say something we’ll both regret.”

  Leslie left the bathroom without flinging another insult, which was odd for her. Dawn was used to hearing her jabs and one-liners, getting in her point no matter what. Leslie just walking away was unusual.

  Pride swelled in her chest. Maybe she’s finally starting to see things my way for a change.

  * * *

  A gentle gust from the river’s breeze caught in Dawn’s hair as she stepped from her car. The faint backbeat of a zippy dance tune wafted by. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her tight jeans and made sure her cashmere sweater showed off her boobs.

  The slam of her car door reverberated around the gravel lot. There weren’t nearly as many cars as the previous night. Fewer people meant fewer girls to tease Beau. Lately, she felt like all she did was see who was checking out her boyfriend.

  “Sounds like the party is rockin’.”

  Zoe came up to her side, wearing a big smile, her hazel eyes scanning the lot. She adjusted her light-yellow sweater and raised her head to the path to the river.

  “Let’s go!”

  Dawn followed her, catching glimpses of the ghostly trees surrounding them. The shadows beneath their boughs came alive in the faint light from the rising moon. The shade shifted and tossed in time with the wind circling her. She got a creepy vibe from the darkness at the edge of the parking lot.

  Zoe grabbed her hand. “Would you come on?”

  Dawn hurried to keep up as they came to the edge of the lot, and gingerly maneuvered the steep path.

  Before the lot disappeared behind her, she glanced back at the shadows. Nothing.

  I’m losing it.

  Dawn touched down on the sand and familiar faces lit by the glow of the bonfires erased her unease. A lot of the same people were back, members of the football team, her cheering squad along with the popular kids she hung out with at school. The music playing stirred her headache.