Page 111 of Grumpy on the Mountain
"Control?" Riley laughs, then grimaces as the movement sends pain through his chest. "I loved her! I gave her everything! Money, security, a future—"
"Love?" I spit, my voice turning dangerous. "You used a six-year-old to gather intelligence on her. You manipulated an innocent child, Riley."
Riley's eyes narrow, and for a moment, the mask of pain slips to reveal something that resembles pure evil and calculating.
"I needed to understand what I was up against. You turned my own family against me, brother. I had to know how deep it went. That little girl was so eager to help."
The casual way he says it is terrifying. Like Maisie was just a tool, just another means to an end.
It makes rage flare white-hot in my chest.
"You're a sick son of a bitch. And as for Molly," I continue, forcing my voice steady despite the fury simmering underneath, "you didn't give her everything. You gave her a cage. It might have been a beautiful, expensive cage. But it was still a cage."
"And what did you give her?" Riley's eyes glitter with malice. "A cabin in the middle of nowhere? A job at some backwoods rescue station? Jesus, Beau, she'll be bored out of her mind within a year."
The words hit their target, finding that old insecurity that whispers maybe I'm not enough for someone like her. Maybe she deserves more than a broken ex-soldier who builds furniture and hides from the world.
But then I remember everything we've done these past few weeks.
I remember Molly's face when she drove my truck for the first time. The way she beamed at Betty in the café. How she looked standing on my porch, taking in the view like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The nights in the hot tub, the laughing, the crying, the talking.
Since she came back, I've built a treehouse. Eaten dinner in public. Walked into Mountain Rescue without having a panic attack. Hell, I gave her car a damn makeover just to see her smile.
Not because I had to. Because I wanted to. Because Icould.
I've become the man I always hoped I could be. Not hiding anymore, but living. Building. Loving.
And that man isn't going to let Riley poison what we've created.
"I gave her choice," I say simply. "The choice to stay or go. To work or not work. To love me or leave me. Every single day, she chooses."
"Choice." Riley spits blood. "You think that's love? That's just cowardice, brother. You're too scared to claim what's yours, so you pretend it's nobility."
The old Beau would have taken the bait. Would have gotten defensive, tried to prove himself, maybe even thrown a punch.
But I'm not that man anymore.
I'm the man Molly chose.
"You're right about one thing," I say, working to cut away the seatbelt that's pinning him in place. "I am scared. Scared of losing her. Scared of not being enough. Scared that someday she'll realize she could do better."
Riley's eyes light up, thinking he's found weakness.
"But you know what I'm not scared of?" I continue, my voice getting stronger. "I'm not scared of her having opinions that differ from mine. I'm not scared of her succeeding at something I can't do. I'm not scared of her being herself instead of some version of herself that makes me feel more important."
The seatbelt finally gives way, and I can see the full extent of the damage. Broken ribs, probably a punctured lung. Internal bleeding.
He needs a hospital, and fast.
"She loves me," Riley says desperately, and for the first time, he sounds like the scared little boy I remember from when we were kids. "She wore my ring. She said yes. That has to count for something."
"She loved who she thought you were," I correct gently. "Before she realized that love shouldn't hurt like it did with you. Before she learned the difference between being wanted and being possessed."
Above us, I can hear Jamie coordinating with the medical team, the sound of equipment being lowered down the cliff face.
They'll have him stabilized and out of here within the hour.
If I want him to survive. And with that fucking look on his face, I still haven't decided.
