Page 55 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

“What are you doing?” Jackson shouted. His fists were clenched and he opened them, palms wide, trying to calm himself. “Weren’t you just at Bohn’s?”

“We were headed back to the station after a call. False alarm. I saw you driving a little … fast. Figured I’d save you a ticket. Cops have a speed trap a mile or so ahead. I don’t think you would have made it.”

“Great. I’ll slow down.”

“Not so fast, buddy. I’d love to hear about where you’re headed in such a rush.”

Jackson considered lying. Saying whatever it was that he needed to say to get Beau to leave him alone.

But he knew that one of Beau’s best qualities was the worst in this moment for Jackson—his faithfulness. Actually, the word he often thought of in his head was steadfast. It was one of those Bible words that people didn’t use much, which is maybe why it carried more meaning to Jackson somehow. Steadfastness was simply faithfulness acted out over time. That’s how he thought of it.

Over the past few years, Beau had walked him through his doubts, through the struggle as he began seeing the world through a different lens, through giving up meaningless (but still pleasurable) relationships with women he didn’t care about, and through his struggle to work through his flare-ups with anger. Beau hadn’t made him feel judged for his past or the dumb decisions he still sometimes made. He hadn’t made Jackson feel like an idiot for asking questions. Beau answered patiently, talked him through things, and did not walk away.

Beau was marked by this steadfastness.

Jackson wished Beau had less of it right now.

“So? Are you going to tell me where you’re going or am I going to have to hear it tomorrow when you feel bad about doing whatever it is you’re about to do?”

“I’m going,” Jackson ground out, “to the marina.”

“Let me guess,” Beau said. “Dolphin cruise?”

Typically, this kind of light humor helped calm Jackson down. When he started really working on his anger problem, this was something his counselor had suggested. Beau had been able to diffuse Jackson like he was a bomb expert.

“Not on a dolphin cruise … hm. Shark hunting? Romantic sunset cruise?”

Today, this was only making him angrier. His hands moved back into fists again and he did not loosen them this time.

“I’m going to the marina to punch that smug smile right off Steve Taylor’s face.”

Beau normally didn’t react in these kinds of moments, but a flicker of something passed across his face. He had been leaning against the side of the SUV and stood up fully now. A door closed and Jimmy walked around the side of the car.

“Hey, Jackson. Everything okay?”

“We’re just fine, Jimmy,” Beau said.

Jimmy sat down on the rear bumper of the car, watching. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Jackson needed fewer people between him and Steve, not more.

“Jackson said he’s headed out to see Steve at the marina,” Beau said. “Want to tell us why, buddy?”

Jimmy snorted. “Steve. Now there’s a guy who doesn’t deserve a single minute of your time.”

Beau casually but intentionally approached Jackson. “How about we head back to the station. We were about to do a pretty intense workout. Get some of that adrenaline out in a healthy way, maybe tape up and do a little sparring…”

“A workout won’t fix this.”

Beau nodded. He was right in front of Jackson now. “Neither will your fists in Steve’s face. Let’s work through it. Why don’t you tell me what prompted you to pay Steve a visit?”

Jackson clenched his jaw, feeling the vise-like pressure of his anger increasing. He wished Beau would get back in the car and get out of his face. His head pounded.

Beau stepped closer. “You don’t want to talk? Okay. Let me try to guess. Tell me when I’m getting close. Let’s see—he cut you off in traffic? Shoplifted from Bohn’s?”

“Just let me go, man.”

“Can’t do that. This is what friends do. And I’m your friend, Jackson.”

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