"I love you, Beam," I say, looking up into his eyes, stroking him gently as he runs his hands through my hair.

  "I love you too, baby. I love you so damn much."

  "I never want this to change," I tell him as I move to my knees and open my mouth, taking his cock. I suck him off there with the wide-open spaces around us, the beautiful mountains and the blue sky turned purple and pink.

  I move my mouth up and down faster, taking him. I love to suck him off. His big thickness feels so good in my mouth.

  "It feels so good, baby," he tells me, and I moan as I suck him, enjoying this, all of it, being his.

  I feel him get harder, his thick ridges in my mouth, and I want his come to slide down my throat, to fill me up.

  When I'm with Beam, I get lost in the moment, the fervor. Passion, it radiates off both of us, a chemistry equation that I'm not interested in solving. I just know it's here, it's us. He comes in my mouth and I love it. I look up at him, swallowing his seed, loving his salty, milky cream as it coats my throat.

  He takes my hand and pulls me to him, lifting me up at the waist. He's still hard, hard for me. With my back against a tree, he sets me down on his cock and I moan, sinking onto him, loving the way it feels when he fills me up. So utterly complete, so absolutely perfect.

  "Fuck," he tells me, "you're so tight and so fucking wet."

  "I'm always wet for you, Beam," I tell him.

  And he looks at me like he knows it's true. I kiss him, our bodies one. I kiss him, closing my eyes, terrified of waking up from this fantasy, this daydream, terrified of the nightmare that was my life before.

  And might very well be my life after if John finds out where I’ve gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Beam

  I don't want to pressure her, push her somewhere she's not ready to go, but I see it in her eyes sometimes when she's under the covers, reading a book, how the page falls away and her eyes look up into an unknown distance. I see it when we're in the forest and she pauses to pick a flower and just stares at the blossom a bit too long.

  She gets lost somewhere in her thoughts and I don't know if it's the past or the present. I don't know what her hang-up is. I wish I knew why she was with John that night in Riverside, where he was planning on taking her, or if it was her that wanted to go somewhere. She won't open up about it.

  I know the best thing to do right now is give her time because really, what else can I offer?

  I've paid off this land. I've paid off my boat. We're living here safe and sound, at the edge of the world, but I have a feeling that whatever Bellamy is holding out on telling me, it's going to bring us back to reality real damn fast.

  And I'm right.

  After three weeks of crazy ass sex, wild ass nights, and sweet ass mornings wrapped up in each other's arms, we're sitting at the table having our breakfast, our black coffee, our bacon and eggs.

  She clears her throat. "Beam, I feel like if I don't talk, it's going to become this big elephant in the room and you know I hate elephants in the room."

  Remembering one of our first conversations, I chuckle. “I know that.”

  My body tenses, anxious. I don't want anything to change and I'm scared it will. "Listen, Bellamy, I love you. I'd do anything for you, so whatever you have to say—"

  She cuts me off. “I know, I get that. I know that we're in this together. It's just, listen, Beam. John found out who my biological parents are and he got in touch with my father."

  "Shit.” It's the last thing I was expecting.

  I mean, I don't know what I was thinking she was going to tell me, but this?

  “I know, it's crazy, right? The thing is, my father, he was going to meet me in Alaska. That's what John and I were in town for. The next morning, we were going to… Well, we were going to meet for the first time."

  I clench my jaw. "Fuck," I say, running a hand through my hair. "Why didn't you say something? Fuck, Bellamy. I took you and now he… Shit."

  She shakes her head. "It's not like that. If I wanted to meet him that night, I would have said something, but I didn't want to. I was scared."

  "I don't understand," I say. "I would think you would want the opportunity to finally meet him.”

  "Yeah, well, I would have thought so too, but thing is, I found out my father… Well, his name is Marlon Santiago."

  My eyes narrow. The name is scratching the back of my mind.

  "He lives in Vegas,” she says, “I guess, and he is…"

  The words come to me. "He's a Mafia boss."

  She nods. "Yeah."

  "So, you're a Mafia princess?" I say, looking at her.

  "Well, not really. I mean, I wouldn't exactly call myself his princess considering the fact he abandoned me."

  "Shit. That guy, he's really bad news," I say. "I've met the man myself. Maker and I have plenty of times. Mafia bosses and drug lords have a lot in common. Dark as shit. Marking their territory."

  "You've met my father?" she says, her voice shaky. "What do you mean, you've met him?"

  "Maker and me…"

  "I don't want to talk about Maker," she says.

  "I know you don't," I tell her. "I was just trying to explain."

  "I could have met my dad and then you kidnapped me and I didn't get to and now I'm thinking…"

  "Wait. You're blaming me for something? A few minutes ago you told me you didn't want to meet him. Didn't want to meet that criminal."

  "I didn't in the moment, but it's been a few weeks and I've been thinking about it a lot."

  "And what have you been thinking, Bellamy?" I ask her, scared I’m about to lose it all. Everything I thought I had. Her.

  "I've been thinking that maybe I messed up. Maybe that was my one chance to meet my father and I gave it up for…"

  "For what? For me?" I ask. The words sting. This whole conversation is biting, harsh, not something I want to swallow. "Look, what are you trying to tell me?"

  "I'm trying to say that John had reasons for wanting me to meet my father and I didn't want to be a part of his games, so when you took me that night, I was relieved because I didn't want to be a pawn for John. But if John's not in the picture — and believe me, I'm sure he's pissed about that right now — but if he's not in the picture, that means I could have met my father without ulterior motives, without John being involved."

  "So, you want to meet your dad, is that what you're trying to tell me?"

  Her big beautiful eyes are wide with fear, confusion. Tears. “Maybe, yes, is that so crazy?"

  I reach for her hand, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. "It's not crazy, Bellamy. I get it. You want to meet your dad. It's just, baby, he's a real piece of…"

  "Don't," she says, pulling her hand back. "You're going to criticize him? You don't even know him."

  "I do know him. I've met him."

  "Yeah, but that was before. Maybe he's different."

  "You think people change?"

  "You did, didn't you? I have, haven’t I? Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past three weeks? What we're basing this entire relationship on? The fact that people change? You’ve killed men. It doesn't mean you're a murderer today."

  I swallow. "Your dad isn't like me."

  "No? And why is that?" Bellamy asks.

  I shake my head. “He’s a different kind of criminal, a different kind of…"

  "I feel like it's apples and apples, Beam," Bellamy says flatly. "You're both criminals. Sure you have a really shady past, but it doesn't mean that's who you are today. If you can change and I can change, maybe Marlon Santiago can change too.”

  I smirk. "That man is never going to change."

  "Oh, you're just going to sit there and tell me what's possible? I wouldn't have thought this was possible, falling in love with a man like you."

  "A man like me, huh?” I push back from the table. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

  “You know what it means."

  "No, I don't think I do," I tell her.

  "It means maybe we're too messy to be together, the both of us. A relationship might be easier if one person was whole while the other person was a mess. Then the healthy person could fix the broken person," she whispers.

  “Or maybe two broken halves could make a whole," I say, fighting her words.

  "Maybe," she says. "Maybe that would work in a fairytale. And as much as I want to believe we're in one, Beam, we're not."

  "We can be. We don't have to go find your father."

  "We don't have to, but I want to. I want to meet this man. I want to give him a chance."

  "You won't be safe. He's dangerous.” I grunt in frustration. I understand her desire to meet him, but Santiago is a bastard like none other. He’ll use her and break her. “If you're going, you'll need backup.”

  She shakes her head, annoyed. “That’s absurd. You’ll go and get hurt on my behalf and then what?"

  “Not just me. You want to go meet your daddy? We can go meet your daddy. But I'll call someone to join us."

  "Someone?" she asks, her eyes narrowing. "And who would your backup be, Beam? You lost all your contacts in California. The only people you know are the ones up in Alaska. Walker and Wavy just had babies. Jameson and Jemma, it sounds like they're on their way to their own happily ever after, so who's left? Who's got your back? Who's willing to carry a gun and fight for you? Fight for me?"

  The name is stuck between us.

  "I know the one person I'd call if I was in real trouble with the law,” I tell her. “In real trouble with anything. Maker."

  She pushes back from the table, standing, tears falling down her cheeks. "No," she says. "I won't. I don't want that man near me."

  "I know," I tell her, "But Bellamy, I don't want Marlon Santiago around you."

  Chapter Twelve

  Bellamy

  After the argument, I need some time to clear my head and collect my thoughts. Beam must too, because he stalks out to the clearing under the tree house and starts chopping wood as if his life depends on it. From the bedroom window, I watch him swinging an ax high in the air, slamming it down on wood. He really does look like he was made from this place, carved from these mountains. He throws off his flannel shirt and I see beads of sweat roll down his muscular back, his strong shoulders, as he lifts the ax and swings again. My heart pounds. I don't want to lose this man. But I also feel conflicted in a way I never thought possible.

  All week, I've been thinking about the fact I gave Beam a chance. I believe he's a changed man. What if my father is too? When John first told me that my father was a criminal, the words were bitter and bleak. The last thing I wanted to hear. I wanted a dad who was a respectable man, and maybe he just never knew I existed.

  I didn't want a father who was jaded, dark. But beggars can't be choosers, right?

  Besides, he made that deal with John. Me in exchange for goods, because he wanted to meet his little girl.

  I know that's a ridiculous fantasy, but that's all I've been living in the last few weeks up here with Beam. Pretend, make-believe, forgetting what's real and what's not. Forgetting myself. I love Beam. I know that. But am I going to be able to live with myself if I had the chance to meet my father and I didn't do it?

  I never knew who he was. What if he never knew who I was? What if I took that chance away from him?

  I know how it would sound to anyone else. Like I was foolish. Like I was so desperate for acceptance that I would forfeit anything to get it. But I don't really care how it sounds to anyone else. I just care about how it feels inside me right now. I want to know where I come from. I want to see the parts of me that I've always been missing. I want to understand.

  I consider calling Jemma, Wavy even, to talk this out with another woman. But I don't want to go there. I don't want to open myself up and hear them tell me I’m being crazy. I know what they’d say because the words are rolling around my own head.

  You're being ridiculous.

  Don't go chasing a fantasy when you have something real right here, right now.

  You're safe. You're protected.

  Beam has your back.

  I know that's what they'd say because that's what part of my mind is saying too. But my heart has all this unresolved tension that I can't ignore.

  The idea of Maker coming here and being the backup for Beam — it makes me sick, makes my skin crawl. I hate that man. Hate him. I've done things with him… given my body to him. He's taken it.

  I'm not ashamed of what I've done. I had to survive. I had to get through.

  But how does Maker live with himself? How does he sleep at night?

  I don't want to know.

  But I do want closure. Some answers.

  I'll do whatever it takes to get there, even if it means breaking my own heart in the process.

  * * *

  Later, when Beam and I crawl into bed, we turn and face one another. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and the curtains are open. The stars shine. The dark sky, so heavy. Everything feels so ominous, weighted like a blanket. "I hate fighting with you," he tells me.

  “I hate fighting with you too, Beam.”

  “I'll do anything you want. Anything you need.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything,” I tell him.

  “I know, but I'm offering.”

  I lick my lips, resting my hand on his cheek. My thumb curling around his thick beard.

  “I don't want Maker's help.”

  "I know," he says. “But Bellamy, I…”

  I shake my head. “I don't want to know what you've done.”

  “You've got to listen to me. I spoke to Maker today.”

  My throat constricts. I hate this. I hate that he called Maker when I told him not to.

  “I don't think you understand what kind of man Santiago is.”

  “I do," I tell Beam, the weight of the world surrounding us. “He's a criminal. An outlaw, a thug, whatever.”

  “It's more than that. There are guys who do shady things, guys like Maker, right? Who are really fucked up. That mess around and treat people like shit. But then there's Santiago. It's a different kind of dark. A different kind of danger.”

  I sigh. “And you're the judge of that? How bad is bad? I thought you don't judge people. I thought that was our whole deal. Our thing, no judgment.”

  "It would be foolish to pretend otherwise," Beam says, his voice steely. He holds my cheeks with both his hands, hard. His eyes burn into mine. “I don't want anything to happen to you. And I made a promise the moment I got you and brought you here that I would never let anyone hurt you again. You've been through enough hell, Bellamy Banks, and I don't want you to go through any more. It's my promise to you to keep you safe and I'm not going to break it.”

  “You're not going to break a promise, but you're okay with breaking my heart," I say, tears streaming down my face.

  He brushes them away with his thumb. I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “I don't want your promises if Maker is attached to them.”

  “Dammit, Bellamy, don't you hear what I'm saying? I'm scared to face Santiago alone. I don't think I can handle that. I need Maker's help. You're the one being stubborn here, thinking it's not as bad as it seems. Trust me, Bellamy, believe me on this.”

  I shake my head, refusing to. Maybe I am being stubborn. Maybe I am being a fool. Maybe I'm just grieving the things I lost that I haven't faced until now.

  Things I couldn't face until I had arms like Beam’s to hold me tight.

  I cry against his chest, more confused than ever. Knowing there is no easy way out of this.

  Because when I make a choice, I go all in. Why else would I have wound up at Father John's sex commune over a year ago? I decided to go, stayed until the very bitter end.

  And I'm making a choice now.

  I have to meet my father. He may be a monster, a criminal, a mastermind, but his blood is my blood and I need to know where I come from.

  Beam might not understand, but right now that's okay.

  I have to get answers about my past before I can give our future a fighting chance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Beam

  When we wake the next morning, Bellamy is nestled against my chest. I kiss her forehead and stay there for a few extra minutes, lingering in the morning light, the stillness around us. I don't want to let it go.

  I know one way or another that whatever happens next is going to alter our relationship. I want it to be for the better, of course I do. I love Bellamy, this girl who I've known for so long but has just become my person. I don't want to lose her, but I also know that this John guy is going to come for her, her father will too, and I don't want to be on the defense when that happens. I want to make the first move. It's what I would have done back in those days when I worked with Maker. I would have been the first person to raise my fist because that's how you get a fighting chance.

  Bellamy wakes in my arms, her eyes lifting to mine. "Good morning," I say to her and her eyes close.

  "I don't want to get out of bed," she moans. She sits up, her hand on my chest, looking at me, remembering the words we exchanged before we went to bed. "Beam,” she whispers. “Everything's going to change."

  "For the better?" I say, but the end of my sentence lifts in a question and I know Bellamy's too smart for that, for games, for make-believe. We may want to think of this time together as a fairytale, but it's reality and it's hitting us hard.

  "We should get going," I say. "I want to spend the day together in town. I thought we could have lunch, take a walk. I don't know, get you some new clothes."

  She laughs. "You don't like my clothes?"

  "They're a little raggedy."

  She smirks. "I'll give you that. So when does Maker show up?"

  “Later. Tonight. He’s staying at the Marina Motel.”

  "I see," she says slowly, "so we have a whole day together, you and me, before… ?" I nod. "All right," she says. "Hmm, then when do we go on this shopping spree?” She smiles and I realize she wants to stay in the fantasy just as much as I do. She doesn't want this to change.