Beau’s [POV]
When I was twelve, I met James at my group home. He had bounced around from family to family, which had all sent him back because of behavioral issues.
At first, I didn’t like him.
I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just be nice to the adults that took him in.
I was nice to everyone, yet I was still stuck sharing a room with three other kids in crappy government-funded housing.
But James didn’t tease me, and he protected me from the other kids.
A year later, a pretty girl named Evelynn showed up, her eyes bright and welcoming.
James and I had a crush on her immediately.
She had a small clay pot with her, which she kept next to her bed and watered every day.
Eventually, when leaves sprouted, the counselors allowed her to plant them outside.
I absorbed every bit of information she told me about flowers. Her favorite kinds, what they meant, and the best ways to take care of them.
And when she left, taken in by a foster family, I continued to tend to the flowers she planted.
I missed my friend, and it was my only way to stay connected to her.
James aged out before me and was able to secure a shitty room in a downtown apartment when he was eighteen, earning money in less than legal ways.
He offered me a place to stay once I aged out of the group home.
We both presented as Alphas during that time.
We knew Grey through a mentorship program in the system, and when James got into deep shit, we contacted him for help.
He saved our asses.
James and I contacted Evelynn again, and that’s when she met Grey.
For a long time, we were happy.
Until we weren’t.
I want to scream at Grey.
I want to strangle James.
I’ve lost her again, and I don’t think I can handle it.
James places a comforting arm around my shoulder, and I suck in a shuddering breath as we watch the security footage from the reception desk.
Why didn’t we tell her the truth? We’re so fucking stupid.
Her beautiful silhouette is on the ground, sobbing.
Oh, God.
But then she stands up, looks confused, and wanders into the forest.
“What the hell?” James mutters as she walks out of sight. “What is she doing?”
Grey switches cameras to the feed of the trails, near the edge of the woods.
Wilson is in someone’s arms, and Harper hangs her head as she slowly walks toward a truck.
“Holy shit,” James whispers.
She opens the passenger door, stepping inside slowly, and the man enters the driver’s side, but not before releasing Wilson, who dashes down the road.
“Who the fuck is that?” Grey demands, growling as he rewinds the footage.
I squint at the screen, biting my lip.
And then, it hits me.
“It’s Clyde,” I murmur.
“What?” James demands. “Fucking Clyde?”
“Oh, shit,” Grey mutters.
He lied to Harper about who she was, so it makes sense he would lie about who he is too.
We should have known.
Clyde has her.