The Distance Between Us (Book Two ✓)

thirty-five

BEAU

"Let's go." I snap at Emma, letting my anger at Beck get the better of me. My fists are shaking as my eyes nearly burn holes into the ground at Zoey's feet. I shouldn't have come - I knew I shouldn't have.

How fucking dare they?

Emma's eyes are wide as she looks from Zoey to me and back again, unmoving from her chair. Why is she always so stubborn?

"Beau, just hear us out." Beck comes around the table to place a hand on Zoey's elbow and I grit my teeth together so hard that my jaw begins to hurt.

"Fuck you, both of you. I don't want to hear anything either of you have to say." People at the table beside us drop their forks at my shouting, jaws falling open as they take in the scene in front of them. Jackson, a newer member of my security detail, stands at the bar, squinting his eyes in concentration, trying to decide if the situation calls for intervention, I'm sure. I shoot a glare his way, hoping he takes the hint.

If anyone gets to take down my piece of shit brother, it's going to fucking be me.

Zoey covers her mouth with her hand, having the nerve to look hurt by my tone. Her eyes are the same deep brown that I remember and I can't make myself look at them directly, the memory of the last time I ever saw her too close to the surface just being back in the city at all.

"Beau," Emma stands now, tugging my shoulder to try and get me to sit again. "Let's just be calm, okay?"

"No," I jerk my arm away from her, shaking my head and taking a couple of steps away. "For once, can you just trust that I know what the fuck I'm talking about?" I rush my fingers through my hair, nearly pulling it from my head.

Fuck, I hate this place. My mom, Beck, Zoey. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Emma's full mouth pops open in surprise, the hurt in her expression deeper than in Zoey's. For Emma's sake, I wrestle with my anger - the bitter bile that's risen in my throat - and turn my attention to the happy, golden couple in front of me.

As Zoey's hand flutters to her full belly, I notice the thin, gold band on her finger, and before I can stop it, my temper flares out of my control.

"You're fucking marrying her, too?" I'm shouting again and Beck stares up at the ceiling as if I'm the one exhausting him. "That fucking figures," I growl, shoving my chair into the table and grabbing my phone. "Emma, are you coming?"

I try to soften my expression but fail miserably, feeling the tightness in my jaw and hearing the hostility in my tone.

Her brows pull together over her coffee-brown eyes and I pull my gaze away from her face, unable to deny the resemblance between the two women. Fuck me.

"I..." Emma stammers, "Yes, I'm coming." She places her napkin on the table politely, blushing as everyone else in the restaurant looks on, some holding their phones up blatantly to capture the drama. The fire at the back of my throat scorches red hot and every breath is painful. As she stands, she ducks her head at Zoey and Beck, "I'm sorry."

Her apology is what sends me over the edge. I feel my brows shoot up and can't hold back the sarcastic laugh that escapes me. Feeling the last bit of my control fading, I say nothing and turn away, stalking out of the restaurant without checking to see if Emma is following.