Color Me (under construction).

13. Secrets

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Beau sat with her arms between her legs as she gripped her ankles tightly. She stared straight ahead, refusing to look at John who sat next to her. He had a frozen bag of peas pressed against his bare stomach, his shirt lifted slightly. Neither of them spoke a word since Matthew had left the house. A thick feeling engulfed them and Beau found it difficult to breathe.

"Is that man going to come after me?"

John's head snapped toward her with his forehead creased and brows furrowed. He set the bag of peas aside and took a deep breath. A strand of his hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward, he pushed himself from the couch. Beau's eyes followed him as he stepped before her, his hands moving to hers. He pulled them from her ankles, and gently slid her body forward. Beau's mouth dropped slightly open at his touch, his movements jumping starting her heart.

"Beau," he said, taking her face in his hands, "I won't ever let anything touch you. Not even a scrubby man like Matthew. I told you last night that I was dangerous, not the life I lead, but me. So, you never have to worry about anyone else. Okay? I've got you."

Her eyes slowly began to brim with tears. Beau was finally starting to realize that none of it mattered. It didn't matter if Matthew wanted to hurt her, or if anyone else in John's life took interest in her. It didn't mean a thing if everyone around her decided her life meant nothing. As long as this man stood in front of her looking at her with those eyes in the way that he did like she was his life now, then nothing else mattered. Nothing.

"Beau, why are you crying?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. Her words felt useless compared to how she felt about him, and nothing she could say would do it justice. "Because I don't care. About Matthew, or the dangerous life you think you live, and I definitely don't care if you say you're bad for me. I only care about you, even if that means I get hurt."

John moved to sit on the couch and pulled Beau onto his lap. Her slipped her hair behind her ear and examined her eyes before taking a breath, "No more secrets. You wanted an explanation and I'm going to give you one." Beau rested her head on his shoulder as she listened to him speak, grasping onto every word and letting them sink in so she wouldn't need to question him.

"When I was younger my mother died, and my father lost his mind. Naturally, he thought the best thing for me was to send me to live with my uncle. The man was just as crazy, and his house was filled with guns. He had about six safes hidden around his house each with a different code that got changed every seven days. He was paranoid and for good reason. He got himself into some trouble with this powerful group of people - I wouldn't consider them a gang, it was worse than that. So, because he couldn't pay them in time they decided it was time for some leverage.

"I was their leverage at 8 years old. They picked me up when I was walking home from school, tossed me in the back seat of a black truck and drove off. My uncle didn't really care, though it was a good thing he didn't need to take care of me. The boss of this group, for some reason, felt bad for me. He raised me like I was his own blood. I fought hard, got my ass kicked, played with dangerous weapons, and by the time I was 15 I had already known the ins and outs of the streets. I would angry quick and lose my temper easily. I was explosive."

John's eyes became glossy as he spoke, the memories of his childhood taking him to a place he's tried hard to forget. Beau watched him, listening intently.

"He changed my name to Jay, that's why you heard Matthew calling me that. He's one of the asshole leaders of a sub-group from the group I was brought up in. He's constantly fucking up and before I left to go get my teaching degree, the Boss made me "talk" to him. He was pissed and went off. I led the group for a year in-between school. No one knew anything. I had no one, and couldn't afford to bring anyone into that life. I've killed people and hassled people. Just because they couldn't afford to pay Boss. I'm not a good guy, Beau."

Beau struggled to find her voice, but she wanted so badly to tell him it was okay. That she wasn't afraid of him, and that she knows he'd never hurt her. So, instead of speaking she cupped her hand around his cheek and gently urged him to face her. When his eyes found hers, Beau could see the desperation and need hiding behind that warm somber color. She smiled through her tears, her trembling lips pressing into his. With him pressed against her now, Beau finally felt like she could breathe. She felt safe and free, and she could breathe.