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zepskies · 6 months ago

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Oh my God, starting off hot and strong in the opener here. 🥵 I was not prepared loll!

Beau's hands, my lord does he have talents. 😩 "Lazy early morning" smut is one of my favorites to read, tbh.

But aww he got her a coffee maker!! Love it. 🤣

And this case is getting more and more interesting. I genuinely have no idea who the killer is yet, but I'm very intrigued to find out more. All the more intrigued that she's a woman, but concerning that she's seemingly got a focus on the reader. Her and Beau didn't cheat, but I'm curious if the killer will target them at any point and throw the nuances out of the window lol.

He gasped in disbelief. “They wrote that on the internet? Why would they do that?” “You’re such a guy,” Cassie teased him with a chuckle.

LMFAO Oh, sweet Beau. He really doesn't have a clue about the true depths of the interwebs. 😂 And "femmefatale187" -- of course that's the suspects user loll. I love all the little details you're weaving, like the meaning of 187. I know you've told me already about your original fiction, but here I can further tell that you're invested in crime thrillers.

What if you weren’t ready to hear it? What if he wasn’t ready to say it? What if the guilt in his heart, mind, and soul was right all this time and you were never his to take? What if you would never belong to him at all?

Ahh all of these flashbacks (both smutty and angsty) are shading in their past with more and more devastating clarity. 👌🏽

“Our best bet is the IP address of the username. Until that, we just gotta sit tight, I guess.” “I hate that.” Beau sighed in frustration.

Ahh yes. Beau's a man of action. 😆

Oh Goood, that flashback with Carla was painful! And gave me a sense of foreboding for what flashback you'd likely cover next. 🥲

“You do that a lot?” Beau scratched his throat, tucking his lips between his teeth as he found himself curiously cocking his head, hoping the gesture hid the worry underneath well enough. You shrugged. “Sometimes. Not as often as I used to,” you confessed and ignored the drops of guilt that oozed from your heart. “He was a part of my life for a decade. I can’t pretend he wasn’t.”

I'm glad you covered this, because that's another healthy bit of realism to this situation. 👌🏽 But I also loved that he's finally planning on taking her for a proper date! It's about effing time lol.

But Jeezus that last flashback was painful. 😭 I knew you'd cover it at some point, but didn't mean my heart was ready for it. (Lol your little disclaimer at the end that this was indeed a flashback, and they're in love and properly together in the present. -> It doesn't hurt to remind people. 😂)

Truly, you're a wonderful storyteller. I'm very excited for you to come back next week! I'm finally posting some more Tracker stuff as well next week too.

I hope you're getting all the rest and that the kiddo is (safely) tearin' around now that he's crawling. 💕

Polaris – Chapter 5

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst & some hurt, more murder mystery and flashbacks

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all your comments on the last part! They really make my day 🤍 We'll take a small break next week, but hopefully, the spice in this chapter keeps you afloat 😉

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Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs

You felt his lips ignite your skin, a trail of love down the back of your neck and shoulder blade as the sun filtered in through the trailer’s blinds behind you. You sighed blissfully, a smile dancing on your lips as you stretched your limbs in his embrace.

Your hand wandered above you, finding his full head of hair, fingers carding through the dark blond and soft strands. You could feel him grin against your skin before you felt his bulging erection pressing against your butt, causing you to push further into him on instinct.

“Mornin’,” he chuckled against the shell of your ear, his hand wandering to your front and diving between your legs. His fingers ran through your slick and stroked your sensitive bud.

“Oh God,” you whimpered and bit your bottom lip harshly. Your pussy throbbed at his touch, already feeling yourself fall over the edge. Beau could tell as well.

“Jesus,” he groaned with a gentle bite of your shoulder. “Someone’s ready.”

When his other hand snaked around your body from underneath and pulled you flush against his own like the lightest feather, his palm cupped one breast roughly, fingers playing with the pert nipple.

“Fuck me,” you mewled deliriously, your cunt screaming to be filled as his hands teased you to the brink of existence.

“I believe that’s what I’m already doing, darlin’,” he drawled, chuckling.

“Beau, please,” you begged, pushing even more against him as you searched for friction.

“Alright.”

Abandoning his teasing, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled your thighs, prying your legs apart. His fingers did the same with your asscheeks before he threaded the aching tip of his cock through your arousal and nudged at your entrance. With one thrust, he pushed inside you till his pelvis met your cheeks. You moaned out in ecstasy when he stretched your walls with a pleasurable burn.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned into your ear, his beard scraping your cheek.

One of his hands gripped the headboard above you while the other one steadied you at your waist. His hips rolled slowly as he slid in and out of you, his cock stroking your cunt at a lazy early morning pace.

It still was enough to tip you over that sweet cliff of pleasure, especially when the hand on your waist traveled to your clit and gave it a few skillful rubs with his fingers. His thrusts then gained speed, hearing his ragged breaths in your ear. Your screaming climax was muffled as you buried your face in the fluffy pillow, fingers fisting the sheets tightly.

Beau’s hips came to a stuttering halt as your cunt pulsed around him. With his last stroke, he pushed into you as deeply as he could, burying himself to the brim. His cock twitched inside your velvety walls and filled you with his warm release. He cried out and let himself drop on top of you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck until his orgasm passed.

You could’ve easily drifted back into sleep now, your eyelids heavy as he slipped out of you with one last wet kiss to your shoulder and rolled onto his back next to you as best as he could.

The bed was small, barely fitting two, and pushed against the wall at the very end of the trailer. But it was cozy, and you liked the tight space, considering it practically forced you two to cuddle all night.

“Guess I can save the workout this morning,” Beau said, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

You chortled. “As if you would’ve actually worked out.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve hiked this summer, alright? Those mountains are no joke,” he quipped.

“Actually, I do know ‘cause Cassie told me, and she said you weren’t all that impressive,” you retorted teasingly. You could feel him rise onto his forearms behind you as the mattress dipped, looking down at you with an arched eyebrow.

“‘Scuse me, I think I just showed you impressive,” he countered, making you laugh. Chuckling himself, he pecked the top of your head. “Got a surprise for you this morning.”

“I think I��ve already gotten your surprise,” you teased and rolled onto your back, smirking up at him.

He smiled down at you. “Hilarious. But I actually think you’ll like this one even better.”

“Better than your dick? Consider me interested.”

Beau nodded with his chin to the little kitchenette. “Look over there. It’s on the stove.”

You acrobatically rolled yourself to the edge of the bed, one hand touching the floor as you stretched your neck enough to spy his little surprise for you.

“I always knew you were flexible, but damn, girl, where’s that move been?” he joked behind you. You playfully slapped his arm, Beau tickling your sides in revenge.

“No, no, no tickling!” You squirmed through your giggles and tried to fend off his attack, almost plunging out of the bed before his arms caught you and pulled you back in. Then, you finally spied his surprise. “Aww, you got me one of those Italian coffee makers for the stove. I love those!”

“Oh, I know. I remembered you have one of those at home,” he said. “Figured it’d save you some gas before you bolted to the next town over for coffee.”

“Thank you.” You grinned broadly and showed your gratitude with a deep kiss, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“You’re welcome, although you can’t keep kissin’ me like that,” he said, smiling against your lips.

“Why?”

“‘Cause if you do, you and I are gonna be very late for work,” Beau quipped, but his palms already slid up your sides, pulling you closer to him.

You only smirked in response and draped your arms around his neck. You repeated the same deep kiss and straddled his thighs, pushing him back into the mattress.

“Guess we’ll be very late.”

September 2021

A beam of light hit your eyes as you groggily blinked awake. Your skin felt sticky under the thin layer of sheets, close to burning as if you’d slept next to a radiator all night. The digital alarm clock on the nightstand read 7:03AM and 80.3°F, and it took you a strong arm tightening around your middle to realize where you were, what happened, and why you were so goddamn hot.

Beau’s breath felt like a welcoming breeze against the nape of your neck, a cool draft of air that tickled your skin. His little snores in your ear made you smile, a serene and steady lullaby that could rock you to a peaceful sleep. Something you could get used to.

Your eyes then focused on the hands that held you. Massive and calloused. Reliant and durable. Protective and safe. Your fingers found themselves mindlessly playing with his, interlocking as if they refused to ever be separated.

He stirred, and you took a deep breath to inhale his scent and memorize it, scared he would take it with him when he decided to leave. Somehow a part of you knew it wouldn’t last. It was too complicated, too intricate, too messy. It was illicit, clandestine, and sinful.

It was everything you shouldn’t want but wanted.

“Hey,” Beau rasped behind you, his voice heavy with sleep and the great unknown.

You rolled onto your back, careful and slow as not to disturb the arms that held you. You didn’t want them to retreat. “Hey,” you said in a shaky whisper, your voice jittering in rhythm with your heart.

Yet, you couldn’t help the smile that rose to your cheeks when you looked into his eyes. There was a flicker of something in them that made your whole body rejoice.

An apprehensive swallow caused his Adam’s apple to bob as if he had to will himself to choke out these next words. “Any regrets yet?” he repeated last night’s question, the look on his face anticipating you to break his heart with your answer.

Tears crept to your eyes, but you did your best not to let them fall. You’d spent over a year crying out of sadness, never believing you’d find it and feel it again. But here you were, with tears of happiness stinging your eyes, falling in love all over again.

You cupped his cheeks, fingers carding tenderly through his beard. He watched you with a curious, hopeful, and awaiting look in his eyes, unlawful glances as your noses were so close they could touch at any forbidden heartbeat.

When you shook your head, you could feel his heart expand with relief. “Mm-mm, no. I don’t regret it at all. Not you, not anything,” you assured him.

His mouth twitched to a smile, his lips quivering against yours when he kissed you so criminally ardent you thought the world might be ending outside.

And yet, you ignored the warning in your heart, foreboding this love affair between you wouldn’t end well.

It was another long afternoon as you, with the help of Jenny, Cassie, and Beau, went through tons of files, looking for a connection between the victims. You’d been at it for a week now – and that was only the time you’d spent in Montana.

The whole case had already dragged on for months and several states, each new victim making you feel like a failure. The past months were strenuous, and you were growing tired of running in circles.

You were glad about the new helping hands and fresh eyes, though.

When Beau and Jenny had to work on other cases, it was just you and Cassie. Sometimes even Denise stopped by the station to help sort through the stacks of documents and make sense of them. Most of all, she would bring a little sunshine and make the dark days feel significantly brighter.

Denise would even bribe you with baked goods if you were willing to share some intimate details about her favorite sheriff, or in her words – the big details.

Cassie threw her a scolding look at that comment, whereas Beau gave you one when you sold him out for a deliciously homemade apple pie. The taste was well worth every inch you revealed.

However, aside from the few jokes that were shared between all of you, the case itself demanded long hours, a lot of brain cells, and an abundance of strong caffeine and greasy junk food.

While the victimology was clear, you still didn’t know how the killer found out about the cheating. Every partner had been pretty discreet about their infidelity, as were the women they cheated with. No one blasted their illicit affairs over social media. After all, what sane person would?

Most of them didn’t even bring their closest friends into the loop. Some workplace liaisons were even so hush-hush not a single co-worker knew about it until a screaming wife showed up.

There was no pattern in the furtive relationships, either. Some were classics like banging the secretary, the nanny, or the hot divorcee neighbor. Some were star-crossed love affairs that started with innocent meetings in cafés, in parks, or in elevators.

Not a single thing connected each of them.

So, how did your killer pick their victims and know for sure they had the right ones?

“I think I’ve found something,” you said on the eleventh day of research and narrowed your eyes at your laptop screen as the others around the table looked up from their stack of files and glanced curiously at you.

“What did you find?” Beau asked first and got up from his seat to stand behind you, leaning his hands on the backrest of your chair. Sometimes, it felt like he wasn’t ashamed to use any excuse to be close to you, and it made your goddamn cheeks blush, your knees weak, and your heartbeat faster.

“So, apparently, some of our victims visited a site called ‘doublecross(dot)com.’ It’s a website where people who’ve been cheated on can exchange stories and seek comfort. Sixteen of our twenty-four victims all made an entry on the site’s forum. Some of them even went into great detail about their spouse’s supposed escapades.”

“What kinda detail?” Beau questioned more out of curiosity than anything else.

“‘His secretary still had his cum on her lips when I visited him at the office last week. Guess it’s a new chapstick trend no one told me about,’” you read one entry and glanced over your shoulder to catch Beau’s scrunched brow behind you. “That’s from a victim in Wyoming, Margaret Davies.”

He gasped in disbelief. “They wrote that on the internet? Why would they do that?”

“You’re such a guy,” Cassie teased him with a chuckle.

“Various reasons,” you answered his question. “Some wanted to rant, some just wanted listeners, some comfort, revenge ideas, advice… You name it.”

“Did all the victims post on the site?” Jenny asked next to you and leaned closer, looking at your screen.

“I haven’t checked them all yet, but so far, yes. The four victims in Montana did. As did two in Wyoming, four in Texas, and three in Utah and Colorado each,” you said.

“There were five victims per state, right?” Beau spoke up and mused, “We’re at four right now, so how long we got until the fifth?”

“She takes a victim every five weeks. Ten between states,” you told them.

“Alright, five victims, five states… So we’ve got three weeks left to find her,” Beau concluded with a determined nod. “What’s next?”

“First, we should find out if the remaining vics made accounts on that site as well. Then, we should crosscheck all the comments and replies on each entry and see if we have a common denominator. Maybe there’s a user who talked to every victim. That could be our killer,” you explained the next logical steps.

“Everyone takes four victims, and we cross-reference?” Cassie proposed, and everyone nodded in agreement. “Meanwhile, I’ll tell Denise to check if the other victims were on the site as well.”

“Fine.” Beau sighed dreadfully behind you and sauntered back to his seat. He hated paperwork. He was more of a “go in, guns blazing” kind of cop.

“We should keep this under wraps for now,” you advised. “Closest circle only. If I’m right, the killer is watching us. They can’t know we’re onto them, or they might spiral.”

“What about the DA?” Jenny asked.

You nodded. “I’ll meet with Newton next week and can clue her in. Let’s hope we find something till then.”

July 2022

A thin layer of sweat covered your entire body, your hair damp from the summer heat, beads forming in the nape of your neck and running down your spine. Your hand left a print behind on the fogged car window as you adjusted your grip. You always thought that was a movie cliché, only to be stunned and find out that it was indeed true.

The glass was cool for a brief moment, giving you the sensation you had craved as the heat made your head dizzy. It was not just insanely hot but downright sweltering.

“Fuck, I love that angle,” you sighed breathlessly as your cunt stroked his cock, rising your hips till he almost slipped out before you slid back down.

“Me too,” Beau groaned and smirked up at you.

Massive hands cupped your tits and held your waist as he fucked into you. Your thighs straddled him, one palm on his heart as you met him thrust by thrust. With one last roll of your hips, you came, your orgasm shaking your entire body to the point of passing out. An animalistic scream rocked the car.

Beau’s climax hit right behind yours as your pussy milked every drop of his. Pantingly, you dropped down, your hands finding better rest on his broad shoulders. He kissed your lips firmly and passionately as you both came down from your highs, his fingers dancing up and down your spine.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” you noted in breathless exhaustion as you laid your head on his chest, bodies sticking together.

“Yeah, I mean, I always knew we’d do it in the car at some point, but that even exceeded my expectations,” Beau said.

You laughed a little and grinned at him in amusement. “I meant the weather.”

“Oh.” His brows rose in realization, and he chuckled. “Yeah, that too.”

“I can’t believe this is our last night here,” you said with a quiet sigh. Your voice sounded almost sad. Probably because a part of you was.

While the circumstances of your Mexican stay were arguably the worst, you’d still miss it. The last one and a half years felt like a welcomed escape from reality. From your grief. At home, there was nothing and no one waiting for you anymore.

And then, there was the man who was currently underneath you, inside you, and kissing your lips. You didn’t know what you and Beau even were. You’d been entangled in bars, cars, and under stars in motel rooms for ten months now. Was it casual? Was it serious? Was it misguided friendship? Was it love?

You never said the words out loud or talked about your feelings, but there was always a certain heaviness in the air between you two. It was never loud. It always came in quiet moments, when you were kissing in bed and laughing and staring at each other for hours.

It felt like the two of you were caught in a bubble floating through time and space. A bubble, which was about to burst.

Could your relationship survive the reality back home?

“You okay there?” Beau had grown quite accustomed to your facial expressions and their different meanings. At this point, you were an open book to him, and he could read you flawlessly.

“I’m fine,” you replied and forced your best smile onto your lips.

Beau saw right through you. “Yeah, I’m a little sad, too,” he admitted and assured you, “Nothing’s gonna change, alright?”

Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded in response and hoped he’d stay right.

Beau debated whether he should be honest about his feelings, but it seemed too soon. Too soon after his divorce. Too soon after Randy’s death. No amount of time ever seemed to be enough.

What if you weren’t ready to hear it? What if he wasn’t ready to say it? What if the guilt in his heart, mind, and soul was right all this time and you were never his to take?

What if you would never belong to him at all?

After wiping the station’s whiteboard in the conference room clean, you wrote one single username on the surface.

femmefatale187

All of you had narrowed it down to that user. Denise had confirmed that the other eight victims had made accounts and written entries as well, which brought you to a total of twenty-four posts. And that particular user was the only one who had engaged with every single victim without fail.

Not only that, the comments even suggested a deeper relationship forming with all of them. The killer acted like their friend before a knife was aimed at their backs. If that user was indeed the killer, as Beau liked to remind you.

The four of you then had the tedious task of reading through every comment that account had ever made, going back years and several hundred user interactions. The one that piqued your interest the most, however, was the very first entry that had started it all.

“Does the number mean what I think it means?” Beau asked as he stared pensively at the whiteboard.

“Pretty sure. 187 is the code for murder in the California Penal Code. It’s gotta be. Otherwise, it’d be a weird coincidence,” you mused as you put the cap back onto the marker. “The name in general is pretty obvious. I don’t like any of this…”

“What d’you mean?” Cassie looked at you with a questioning brow.

“I mean she literally put ‘murder’ in her username. It’s too easy. It almost seems like she wants to be caught,” you explained.

“Like writing ‘redrum’ on the wall,” Beau muttered, and you pointed an eager finger at him, nodding in agreement.

“Exactly,” you said and sat back down in your chair. “I already gave everything to our tech analysts at the FBI. If she is as smart as we think she is, she hid her IP addresses and used VPNs, torrents… If they do find a name and an address this username is connected to, we should assume it’s a trap.”

“You said the first entry gives hints to her backstory,” Jenny spoke up and leaned forward in her chair. “Can we use it to track her down this way?”

Nodding, you rose from your seat once more and grabbed the marker, writing down some bullet points as you talked.

“Apparently, she was married and trying for a baby, but without any luck. She then caught her husband cheating but forgave him when he assured her it was a one-time mistake. Turns out he was actually sleeping with tons of women during their entire relationship and got five of ‘em pregnant. Meanwhile, she also discovered he’d been slipping her birth control pills in her coffee every morning.”

“Well, that guy probably won’t win ‘Husband of The Year,’” Beau quipped, chuckling, earning him a borderline scolding look from all three women.

“It’s probably why she chooses victims that ended up going back to their partner,” Cassie speculated.

“She’s punishing women that made the same mistakes she made,” Jenny concluded. “You think the husband is still alive?”

“Honestly? No,” you replied. “The username suggests she had already made up her mind when she started posting. I believe her husband and maybe the women he cheated with were her first victims.”

“Maybe we can find her that way?” Beau pondered.

“Would be a long shot. We don’t even know what state she’s from, when she was married, her husband’s name…” you explained. “Our best bet is the IP address of the username. Until that, we just gotta sit tight, I guess.”

“I hate that.” Beau sighed in frustration.

September 2022

When Beau’s lips left yours, you whined, your hands trying to keep him pressed flush against you, pulling him back into bed.

Beau chuckled. “We have to get up at some point.”

“Do we?”

“I have to get to work, and so do you,” he reminded you with a smile and pecked your lips once more. “How about you hop into the shower, and I get the coffee started, huh?”

“Fine. I guess I can be persuaded to leave this bed for caffeine,” you relented playfully. “Hey, uh, I was thinking maybe we could get dinner tonight? There’s this new pizza place I wanted to try.”

Beau swallowed, his head bobbing with a scrunched brow. Your heart twisted, only knowing too well by now what that expression meant.

“Yeah, uh, do they have take-out?”

“They do, but I figured we could go out for a change. Leave this apartment every once in a while,” you pressed.

Maybe you were being pushy, but you were getting tired of hiding. Ever since the two of you had left Mexico almost two months ago, you had been hauled up in Beau’s apartment and barely ever left. And whenever you did step out, you could tell he was nervous, always looking over his shoulder. He wouldn’t hold your hand or even touch you. The idea of kissing you in public would’ve probably sounded downright insane.

“Uhm, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” he replied as expected and averted his green eyes to the floor.

“Houston has over two million other people, Beau. It’s very unlikely we’ll run into someone we know,” you argued calmly and tried to sound understanding of his feelings. It wasn’t like you didn’t get his inhibitions at all, but it still hurt your heart all the same. “If it’s Carla you’re worried about, maybe we should tell her, you know? It’d make things easier. It’s not like she’s still hung up on you. She’s been dating Avery for a year now.”

“Yeah, no, I know. We’ll get to it. I promise, okay?” Beau assured you with a smile and pecked your forehead, but his voice sounded far from convincing.

Ever since you came back to Houston, he’d been withdrawn, moving further and further away from you. You had a feeling, though, it had actually little to do with Carla and more with the guy both of you had loved.

Everywhere you went reminded you of him, his ghost still lingering around. But while you welcomed that feeling, like Randy was still watching over you, you knew Beau hated it.

He still blamed himself for what happened, no matter how many times you told him he shouldn’t. And now, the guilt of being with you had entered the equation as well.

As Beau brewed some coffee, a knock on his door forced him to leave the kitchen and answer it. As he opened it, he almost turned as white as the ghosts he was running from.

“Carla, what-, uh, what are you doing here?” Beau’s wide eyes probably showed his surprise. She’d never visited him here before in all those weeks since he’d been back. Emily was always dropped off by the building’s entrance, so he had thought himself safe here. Clearly, it’d been a false sense of security.

“Oh, Beau, don’t look so surprised. I’m not here to yell at you for having your laundry lying around,” Carla huffed in her annoyed voice. He knew that one well. “I’m not here to disturb your bachelor pad. I just need to talk to you about something important, okay?”

“It’s not a–” Beau started to argue and defend himself, but then stopped, figuring it was no use. They were already divorced. “We can talk, alright? But I’m running a little late for work. Can we do this tonight or something?”

“Alright, sure, I’ll call you at lunch,” Carla accepted, but then the sound of the shower turning off made her head tilt past him. Her brow furrowed before she let out an annoyed sigh. “Are you having someone over? Is that why you don’t wanna talk right now? Look, I don’t care if you’re seeing someone. We’ve been divorced for a year now, Beau. If we could just do this now, you’d both save us some time.”

Beau had tried several times to interrupt her, but he’d always been unsuccessful with that endeavor in the past. It was hard being married to a lawyer, especially a good one like Carla.

“Carla, no, I-… Can we please just do this tonight? I have to tell you something, too, okay? But I don’t wanna do this here right n–”

“Hey, by the way, we’re out of Pop Tarts,” you called out as you casually strolled out from the bathroom with only one of Beau’s button-ups covering your naked body. “We should go to the store la–”

As you passed the front door on your way to the kitchen, you stopped – both talking and walking. You stared at Carla like a deer in headlights and felt like Bambi’s mother shortly before she got shot.

The divorced couple stared right back at you. Beau’s eyes then closed as Carla’s lips parted in shock – and anger. She definitely looked furious.

“Carla, hey.” You forced a jittery smile to your lips, although all color drained from your cheeks. You almost choked on the giant lump in your throat.

Her eyebrows raised in disbelief before a scoff followed. She shook her head as if she wanted to shake the image of you, half-naked in her ex-husband’s shirt, in his apartment, out of her mind.

“You gotta be kidding me…” She smacked her lips with a seething glower aimed at her ex. “I’ll take it back. I do care who you’re fucking seeing.”

“Carla, listen–” Beau tried to calmly interject and keep the peace, even though he knew it was too late for that. He knew what she was thinking. They had several talks about it. Fights, actually. Fights you knew nothing about.

“I knew it!” Carla exclaimed and felt almost validated. “All this time I knew… I knew you two hooked up in Mexico. I asked you several times if there was something going on, and you kept denying it.”

“And I’m still denying it,” Beau maintained with the same firm anger she was showing. “We didn’t start dating until after the divorce.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to believe that? How stupid do you think I am?” she snapped. “You know, I came here to talk to you about Emily’s future and give you the courtesy of having a say in the decision, but now I don’t think you should. Not after the shit you pulled all year! I put up with a lot from you – the drinking, the spacing out, the disappearing to another country for months… But I draw the line here!”

“Carla, wait–”

But for once in his life, Beau couldn’t speak fast enough as she bolted down the hallway to the elevator and was soon out of earshot. He glanced back at you, his look halfway asking if you were okay after witnessing all of this, and partially asking if he could follow his ex-wife to clear things up.

“Go,” you told him and nodded in understanding. But your heart twinged as you watched him leave.

When everyone had filtered out of the department and the night shift arrived, you knocked on Beau’s office door to announce your presence before peeking your head inside.

“Hey.” You smiled softly when his crinkled green eyes found yours with the same loving look on his face. “Ready to head home?”

His palms drummed on the table, one last glance at the files on his desk before he rose from his chair with a keen nod. “Uh, yeah, let’s go, darlin’.”

As you approached his desk, you chuckled a little, picking up the familiar football, a myriad of memories flooding your brain. “I can’t believe you still got this thing. Same one?” You doubted he’d thrown it away but found yourself still wondering.

“Course, I’d never toss this old thing out.” He smiled and caught it when you playfully threw it at him. His palms pressed into the leather. “I still do it, you know? When I’m stuck on a case, I grab the ball and pretend I’m still throwing it around with Randy, spittin’ theories.”

Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “Yeah, I still do it, too… talk to him.”

“You do that a lot?” Beau scratched his throat, tucking his lips between his teeth as he found himself curiously cocking his head, hoping the gesture hid the worry underneath well enough.

You shrugged. “Sometimes. Not as often as I used to,” you confessed and ignored the drops of guilt that oozed from your heart. “He was a part of my life for a decade. I can’t pretend he wasn’t.”

Beau swallowed at your words, his brow braided into soft crinkles. He struggled with the truth that festered in his heart like snake venom. The guilt of having you was one thing, but the shame of always wanting to have had you was another. If he had seen you first, if he hadn’t been married when you’d met, if he had asked you, would you have picked him?

“I know. And I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about it… him.”

You closed the distance between you, taking his hands in yours and interlacing your fingers. You squeezed them reassuringly. “He’d want us to be happy,” you reminded him and then snorted a bit in amusement. “Maybe not with each other, but the dead don’t get a say in it anymore, so it doesn’t matter. He’s my past. You’re my present… And probably my future?” Bashfully, you bit your lip at the end of your question, a smile carved into it.

“Actually about that…”

Playfully, you raised your brow and laughed. “Uh-oh.”

Beau cracked a laugh, too. “No, nothing like that. Never like that again, alright?” He cupped your cheeks in his warm and safe hands, looking deeply into your eyes as he uttered those words like an unbreakable vow, his raspy voice imparting a comforting promise.

You nodded in his hands and stretched up to kiss him, searing and slow. “So, what do you wanna tell me, Sheriff?”

“Date,” was the only word he said at first. A smile formed on his face that reached his eyes. “I wanna do it right this time. Go out, do stuff, live life. That was my biggest regret when it came to you. I don’t wanna make the same mistake twice,” he shared. His lips claimed yours, adventurous and decisive. “So, you and me ain’t going home. We’re going out. Whatever you’re in the mood for, darlin’.”

With mischievously pursed lips, you pondered your choices for a moment, although only one truly came to mind. “Mmmh, Mexican.”

“Ah! I knew it.” Beau grinned broadly. “I know a great place. Amazing Quesadillas. You’re gonna love it.”

September 2022

Beau hadn’t spoken to you in almost two weeks. After chasing Carla down to the street and having a public argument on the sidewalk that turned several heads, he eventually convinced Carla that nothing had happened during their marriage and calmed her down enough.

Then, they talked for another hour, where his ex-wife informed him of her engagement and her impending move to Montana. She also made it quite clear that he had no say in the decision, especially after that particular morning.

He wasn’t delighted about it by any means, but he accepted it. As long as Emily was happy and taken care of, he didn’t care what Carla did. But the fact he wouldn’t be seeing much of his daughter killed him.

As he trudged back to the elevator, he came back to an empty apartment, however. You were gone, only leaving a note behind that said you had to get to work. He couldn’t really blame you for leaving. The morning already hadn’t started well, and then his ex showed up with a package full of drama on top of that.

Beau constantly felt like he was failing and disappointing you. He knew you were unhappy since the two of you had come home to Houston. But it was hard for him being back here. He fought his feelings for you every minute of every day. And then, the anniversary of Randy’s death rolled around, and he felt himself even more spacing out and withdrawing from you.

He never tried to compare himself to Randy, because any attempt to live up to him would’ve been futile. But Beau felt like the second choice. Like he didn’t deserve you. Like you weren’t truly his and never would be.

You never said or did anything to make him believe that. On the contrary, the way you looked at him made his heart melt every single day. You treated him like one in a million. You cared for him, listened to him, and even though you had never said it, he knew you loved him on some level.

You made him feel like he was the one.

Beau knew it was all in his head, but it felt like a lie. Because how could that be after everything he’d seen? After everything he knew? And in the brief moments when it didn’t feel like a lie, it felt like the biggest betrayal.

No matter what, he couldn’t win.

For two weeks, he was plagued by indecision, guilt, confusion, the need to do the right thing, and his feelings for you.

Beau loved you like he’d never loved anyone before, but it felt like a slow poison that rotted him from the inside.

He called and texted you every day, never sure what to say or do, though. He almost felt relieved whenever you came up with an excuse for why you couldn’t see him. That was his first warning sign that things needed to change.

And by the end of the two weeks, the indecision faded, and he’d arrived at a conclusion.

That final night, Beau had called you, and you told him you were working late at the office. That wasn’t true, though. He could see the lights of your apartment were on when he stood on the street outside. So, he knocked and found your surprised face in front of him before you averted your gaze in shame.

He didn’t fault you for that either, though.

“Beau, I-, uhm…”

“It’s fine,” he said gently, knowing you were about to apologize for your little white lie. And it was fine. He knew why you’d been avoiding him. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

He hated saying those words. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they meant. It was universally understood. And by the look on your face, he knew that you were aware of why he was here.

You let him inside with a crestfallen nod of your head, crossing your arms in front of you like you were trying to hug yourself as you prepared for the worst. The two of you then stood silently in your foyer for a minute, the air between you punishing.

“So this it, huh?” your voice bitterly broke the silence. The hurt in your eyes and the coldness in your face tore his heart apart.

As soon as he looked at you, he started to doubt his decisions again. Was this really the right thing to do? Would he regret it? Would he hate himself for it?

His best guess was yes.

“Look, uhm, this is hard. I didn’t make this decision lightly,” he started.

“Just get it over with, Beau. Spit it out,” you bit.

Nodding, he scratched his scruffy throat. “Carla’s getting married and moving to Montana. I can’t be this far away from Emily. I wanna see her grow up,” he explained earnestly.

“Makes sense. So you’re moving,” you deduced. “What d’you want from me?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he said. That was where the lie came in. His heart pounded against his ribcage, demanding to be freed from its prison, but Beau kept it cuffed and jailed until it broke. “I’m still in love with Carla. I have to get my family back before it’s too late. It’s just-… It’s the best for all of us, you know?”

With a harsh swallow, you nodded, your gaze glued to the floorboards underneath your socks. “Yeah, no, I get it. You should go with your family. ‘S okay.”

“Y/N–” Your name fell from his lips in a pained sigh.

“No, really. We’re good,” you tried to assure him, forcing a tight-lipped smile to your doleful face. “It was nice while it lasted, but now it’s over. I get it. We were just each other’s rebound. It didn’t mean anything, right?”

Your look was full of bitterness as you stared at him, your features haunted by agony and hardened by resentment. It broke his heart all over again.

Yet, there was no turning back.

“Yeah,” he choked out, swallowing the tears down that fought to escape. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just a distraction. For both of us.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you said with all the remaining power left in you.

Beau tried to compel a smile to his lips, but it was only a sorry excuse of one. “Hope we can stay friends.”

“Sure.” You held the same unconvincing smile as you uttered your lie. Then, you strolled to the still-open door and leaned your back against the wood. A gesture that told him it was time to leave. “You should go now. I might have lied about the office, but I still have a shitload of work to do.”

With his head low, he walked past you, each step of his lethargic, heavy, and reluctant. As soon as he crossed that doorstep, he spun, his eyes finding yours one last time. Every ounce of him wanted to grab you and kiss you till you both stopped breathing.

But he didn’t.

Silently, you closed the door, a piece of meaningless and unforgiving wood between you that both of you stared at for several relentless heartbeats. You waited till you heard his footsteps recede farther and farther away from you. Till there was just empty space.

As the harrowing silence consumed the air in your lungs and the love in your heart, you fell to the floor and shattered. Sobs wrecked your body like an incurable disease, and you knew at that moment you could never caulk the cracks again and return to who you were.

Chapter 6: Curses And Cries – JUNE 12

Whoop, probably a good time to remind y'all that this last scene was a flashback and that they're happily together in the present 😇

We'll be back soon! Decided to take a little break since I can't keep up with all things tumblr these days, no matter how hard I try. Hopefully, this will give me some time to catch up properly. Love y'all 🤍

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