Page 70 of Breaking Bristol
Matthew
The tip of my finger ghosted down her temple, across her jaw and over her cheek, then back up until her breathing had finally evened out. Instead of watching her sleep, I unwound myself from her body and pulled the covers up to her chin, making sure she didn’t wake up. It took a lot out of her, reliving what she’d been through, but when she looked like she would collapse from the stress, I’d lifted her into my arms and carried her to bed.
The story she told me played on a loop, every single word I had memorized.
I already knew her ex had hurt her, but I had no idea the severity of it. I thought she was just shy and on guard from a toxic relationship, that she’d lost her ability to trust and just wasn’t ready for a serious commitment. But damn was I wrong. I was blindsided when she said she ran away from her life, her family, that she’d been fucking hiding for two years. As it turned out, she hadn’t moved here from California—her mother was born there, but that’s the only connection. Bristol was from Albeline. Not even four fucking hours away. All this time, she’d been mere hours from her home and missed her grandmother’s funeral. Pure, primal rage roiled through me. She’d cut herself off from her entire family for two years because she was afraid this asshole was gonna kill her.
Someone was gonna die, but it wasn’t her.
I closed her bedroom door behind me and then swiped my phone off the kitchen counter, where the spaghetti I made sat cold and uneaten.
When I got outside, I engaged the locks, walked into the woods away from the house so she wouldn’t hear me, and then I called the one person I knew would have my back.
“’Lo?” Cheyenne answered groggily.
“I’ll apologize for calling so late another time, but right now I need you to wake up and listen to me.”
“It’s Beck. I don’t know, Sutton,” she whispered, then there was rustling and her voice was clearer and louder. “What’s the matter?”
I stopped pacing and looked down at my bare feet on the dirt and leaves. “Do you know about Bristol?”
“Know what?” she asked.
“Why she’s here?”
“Bristol told me she came here for her job and—”
She didn’t know. “Well, she lied. She’s running from an ex who beat the shit out of her multiple times and threatened to kill her mother if she went to the cops. She hasn’t seen her family in two years, and she just found out that her father is in the hospital, but she can’t go see him because she’s afraid her bastard of an ex will be waiting for her.”
“Oh my God,” Cheyenne gasped.
“I need to know where Beau lives.”
There was a long pause before she finally responded. “Why?”
“He has the information I need.”
She sighed, and then I heard her voice muffled in the background before she came back on and gave me his address. “What are you going to do?”
“Put an end to her nightmare.”
* * *
I pounded on the front door and pressed the bell simultaneously. Less than a minute later, it was whipped open and a gun was pointed at my head. “Jesus, Beck. What the fuck?”
Beau lowered his arm, and I walked right in. “She told me.”
“Go back to bed, baby. It’s just Beck,” he said to his wife as he returned his gun to a hidden box on the wall.
Georgia was at the lip of the hallway, and I apologized to her. “It’s urgent. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
“It’s all right.” She yawned as she shuffled away, dragging her feet like she was still half asleep.
“She told you what?” Beau ground out, crossing his arms.
“Everything.”
He sucked in air through his teeth. “Okay. Why are you here?”