Page 64 of Forsaken Oath

A laugh bubbles out of me, and I look at her. My gorgeous, intelligent, kind-hearted sister.

“I love you, know you.” It’s a soft murmur, solemn in an otherwise light-minded conversation.

She nods slowly. “I know. And it’s because I love you that I’m telling you to climb that man like a damn tree and have the time of your life, Louie.”

I bite my lip, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack Margot upside the head. She always did have a way with words. But as much as I want to brush off her advice, part of me can't help but consider it.

What if I let myself have this, just for a little while? What if I threw caution to the wind and let myself feel everything Beau stirs up in me, consequences be damned? The thought is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

I push up from the lounger with a sigh. “You’re a menace, you know that, right?”

She grins, unrepentant. “It’s part of my charm. But seriously, Louie. Don’t overthink this thing with Beau. Just . . . see what happens when you let yourself have some fun.”

I sigh, my smile fading as I look over the backyard, the sun hanging high in the sky. “Yeah, maybe. I’ve got a race to win first though.”

“Yeah, about that. I have a few ideas. Let me grab my laptop. I want to show you something.” She jumps to her feet and jogs into the house.

I watch Margot disappear into the house, her words echoing in my head. Let myself have some fun. Don’t overthink it. Just see what happens.

It sounds so simple when she says it like that. Like I can just flip a switch and turn off the constant whir of doubts and worries in my brain. If only it were that easy.

But she’s not wrong. I’ve been so focused on taking care of my sisters, on doing whatever it takes to give them a better life,that I’ve hardly spared a thought for my own wants and needs. When was the last time I did something fun for me?

The day I impulsively went to see a drive-in movie.

The day I met Beau Carter.

28

ELOISE

The moon hangslow in the sky, shining a path over the bleak landscape. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s almost the witching hour or if it’s truly this town.

Echo Ridge.

Margot gave me the Cliffs Notes version of it earlier today. At the turn of the century, it was a bustling metropolis of industrial revolution, and now it looks like the place dreams go to die.

I follow the GPS directions, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary to calm my nerves. It’s an odd combination—excitement bubbling under the surface, mixed with the heavy weight of anxiety pressing down on me.

There’s a lot more riding on this race than I initially thought, and not all of it has to do with the prize money or advancing to the next round.

Part of me knows exactly why I’m this jittery. Now that I’ve decided to dive into whatever this thing is between Beau and me, it’s been hard to think about much else. I’m doing my best to keep my expectations low. No strings, no drama, no pressure.

But I won’t lie. I’m low-key hoping for a few more nights like Clearwater, and maybe this time, I’ll get to take the lead.

I’ve fantasized about that night more than I feel comfortable admitting. I’m not ashamed of sex, but I’ve been selective with my partners. It’s not for lack of interest, but for time. Between raising Margot and Vivie, my mental bandwidth for relationships—romantic or otherwise—has been razor-thin.

I’d tell myself it was fine. I’d never trade my personal happiness for their safety. But this feels new. Exciting.

And it’s fucking terrifying to acknowledge how much I want to let myself get wrapped up in him. For all the ways I’ve had to grow up fast, I feel woefully inexperienced when it comes to my sexuality.

The smoke stacks of an old industrial park crest the tree line ahead. My directions tell me to turn left, guiding me toward the hulking silhouettes. The closer I get, the more desolate the surroundings become. Boarded-up houses line the cracked pavement. Parks are overgrown, vines snaking up rusted swing sets and through busted cement blocks.

The moonlight lends an eerie silver glow to the whole scene, like something out of a low-budget horror movie. It’s the kind of place teenagers explore for a thrill before they end up running from a masked killer with a chainsaw.

Headlights appear in my rearview mirror. A quick glance in my side mirrors confirms my hunch—several cars are heading in the same direction. I lower the volume of my playlist, which has been set to something chill to keep me calm, and turn into the industrial park entrance.

Rust coats everything, from a Chevy truck abandoned by the gate to random barrels piled haphazardly along one wall. The brick buildings vary in color, their windows broken or boarded, the shadows they cast creeping like ghosts. If this race were a test of endurance inside one of these buildings, I’d fail immediately.

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