Death by the River (A St. Benedict Novel Book 1)

by Alexandrea Weis

  He checked the time on his phone, pissed about Sara. He’d searched for her, wanting to get her to the cells, and if she didn’t appear soon, he would find another girl to take with him.

  “Did you see those two hotties from Covington High we were with? Beverly and Lindsey.” Mitch slapped Beau’s back. “Do those girls rock, or what?”

  Beau checked out a few of the girls around them. “Not the best way to describe women.”

  “Okay? What do I say? They’re pretty?”

  Beau took in his friend’s exuberant smile and the dimples in his cheeks. “Hey, if you’re having fun with them, then great. I suggest you offer them the wine Eddie sent. But don’t let them drink too much. Girls love it when a guy steps in and acts concerned about their welfare. Insist you want to get to know them sober, and I promise they will go out with you.”

  Mitch gave him a fist bump. “You’re the best, Beau.”

  While Mitch hurried away, a leggy redhead caught Beau’s attention. She chatted with the two girls he’d seen with Josh and Mitch. Slim hips, an upturned nose, and full red lips had him wondering how she’d look naked on his cot in the cells.

  “Hey, baby,” a sexy voice whispered in his ear.

  Sara eased in front of him.

  She’d swept up her hair in a ponytail and had on a deep shade of red lipstick. He yearned to slap the color away. His arms went around her, and he lifted her into the air, eager to get her alone.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Had to sneak out of my house to come.” She kissed his lips. “Mom doesn’t want me here.”

  “Why not?” Beau put her down.

  “Other parents at the high school are talking about the drinking and stuff going on here. She heard about it and said I couldn’t come anymore.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “Like she can stop me from being with you.”

  “Damn.” He scratched his head. So that’s how his old man had found out. “I didn’t realize word had gotten out. Might be time to tone things down.”

  “Are you kidding? Every kid in town wants to come to your river parties.” She nuzzled his chin. “And after tonight, everyone in town will know about us, too.”

  “Whoa.” Beau pulled his chin away from her, his desire to take her to the cells fizzling fast. “What are you talking about?”

  Sara gaped at him. “You’re dumping Dawn, right? I’m taking her place. Anyone who sees us here tonight will know it’s true.”

  He unwound her snakelike arms from his neck. This possessive streak meant she would be trouble. He thought he had screened her well enough. Aggressive, outspoken—she had traits he admired in Leslie but lacked her fire, intelligence, and class.

  He took a step back from her, his cool demeanor snuffing out the hint of aggravation in his voice. “I haven’t called it off with Dawn. And if she hears you were hanging on me tonight, she’ll break it off for sure. I can’t have that. Got a rep to protect.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Her loud tone attracted glances from a few people standing next to them on the beach. “Wait in the shadows until you’re ready for a relationship with me?”

  Beau folded his arms, an arrogant smirk on his lips. “Who says I want a relationship with you?”

  Sara’s brown eyes narrowed to two slits. “You want me to blab to your little girlfriend about asking me here tonight?”

  His first instinct was to punch her, but he couldn’t do that, not in front of others. Instead, he lowered his voice to a menacing growl. “Careful. You have no idea who I am.”

  But she wasn’t put off and cocked her arm back to slap him.

  He caught her hand before she could land her blow. “I could make you pay for that.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She yanked her arm away. “You can’t touch me, Beau Devereaux. I don’t care how much money you have.”

  His brow crinkled. “I don’t need money to hurt you. All I need is what I already own—the ear of everyone in this town.”

  She gave him her best “bad girl” stare. “Oh yeah. Who’s gonna believe anything you have to say?”

  Keenly aware of the attention they attracted, he stopped and reset. He stepped up to her, making sure to lower his voice so only she could hear.

  “The entire St. Benedict football team will after I tell them the things you did to me tonight and are more than willing to do with them. What do you think a gang of horny and drunk guys will do with that information? Hell, I’ll even give them a place to do it. A place no one will hear you scream.”

  “You bastard.” She came at him with her claws out.

  But Beau cuffed her hands and held her against him. “Don’t you dare think you can outsmart me.”

  Sara wiggled out of his embrace, her cheeks a brilliant shade of red. “You’re a sick shit.”

  He nodded. “Quite possibly, but for now I’m Dawn’s sick shit, and you’re never to speak to her or even look at her again. Break that rule, and my boys will mess you up so bad, you’ll never be any good to a guy again. Got it?”

  The color drained from Sara’s cheeks and she backed away. She took off toward a line of trees surrounding the plot of beach.

  She disappeared into the shadows, chased by the whispers and stares of other revelers.

  Once she left, Beau’s edginess returned. He had planned to teach her a lesson in the cells but had to settle for threats and intimidation. Not what he wanted, and certainly not what he craved, but it would have to do, for now.

  He’d been dreaming of hurting Sara, and like a coiled spring, he was certain to explode if he didn’t find another girl to give him the rush. Beau craved the high again. He was an addict needing another fix.

  “You sure know how to throw an entertaining party. Beau Devereaux, right?”

  The alluring redhead was back. He honed in on her deep red lipstick.

  “How do you know my name?”

  Her low-cut blouse offered a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. “Everyone knows who you are.”

  He sized up her potential for a night of fun. Eager and dressed to tease.

  “And who are you?” he asked in his smoky voice.

  She tilted her head, adding a luster to her dreamy hazel eyes. “Kelly Norton.”

  “From Covington High?”

  Kelly pursed her red lips and gave a toss of her red long hair. “We’ve met before. My mom manages the apartment building your dad built in Covington.”

  The news pleased him immensely. Daughter of an employee—she would be less willing to talk for fear of losing the family income. He could do what he wanted to her without fear of repercussions.

  “My father has several properties in Covington, Mandeville, and even New Orleans, but I remember that apartment building.” On the hunt to reel her in, he set the trap. “Your mother is Beth Norton, right?”

  Her eyes lit up and her smile expanded, adding a dimple to her chin. “Wow. You’ve got a good memory.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and stepped closer. With a sheepish grin, he moved in, wanting to quickly establish her trust.

  “I work summers at the brewery, and part of my job is helping my father with the books. I’ve seen your mom’s name a lot lately.”

  “So, you don’t remember me?”

  Her smile never wavered. He detected a glimmer of hope in the undercurrents of her voice.

  “No, I remember.” He stepped around her, circling her like a predator. “At the building opening last year. You helped serve the punch.”

  Yeah, he impressed himself with that one, but it had come back to him. The mousy girl in the pink dress who had been too afraid to talk to anyone—including him.

  An uncomfortable silence lingered; well, not uncomfortable for Beau but it was for her. She shifted her feet in the sand, tugged at her top, and played with her hair. She was nervous—nervous meant insecure and easy to manipulate.

  Beau glanced back at two girls at the picnic tables with Mitch and Josh. “Are you here with them?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah.” She took another step closer to Beau. “That girl you were with before, is she your girlfriend?”

  Definitely interested.

  “No. She’s angry because she isn’t my girlfriend.” He shook his head, pouting for effect. “She’s too possessive for my tastes.”

  Kelly twirled a lock of her fiery hair around her finger. “Why kind of women do you like?”

  He ached to touch her. “Smart. Funny. Interested in the long term. One-night stands aren’t my style.”

  Kelly tilted her head and raised the right side of her mouth in the slightest grin.

  “You expect me to buy that bullshit?”

  A tingle shot through Beau’s crotch. The comment was just what he would expect from his Leslie.

  “What do you do when you’re not going to Covington High?”

  Her features softened a little. “I work at a vet’s office. I love animals. Hope to be a vet someday.”

  “Animals, huh?” He liked that. It made her sound wild.

  She inched closer, her lips parted. “What do you like to do when not playing quarterback?”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t in the mood for toying with her anymore. He wanted to taste her fear.

  “Have you ever seen the inside of The Abbey, Kelly Norton?”

  Kelly’s bewitching smile spread, highlighting the alluring curve of her lips. “No. Can you show it to me?”

  After a quick check to see who was around, Beau clasped her hand. “Come with me. I’m gonna give you the night of your life.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Crickets chirped and mist curled around him as Beau eased out of the crack in the wall to the cells. The chill in the air teased his sweaty skin, but the surge of power pounding through his blood was like liquid fire.

  The rush consumed him. He knew in that instant he would find another victim, but his rational mind begged him to be careful.

  Don’t get caught.

  He chuckled. Besides the money, his father still had hefty political clout in Baton Rouge, thanks to his notorious grandfather and years of murky business dealings. The family name had spared him in the past from legal proceedings and institutions. It would again.

  Heading toward the fountain across the grassy field, Beau considered his next night of fun. Before he reached the forgotten angel, a flash in the corner of his eye made him turn.

  Amid the trees, crowding the edge of the property, something darted in and out. He could just make out a long, white hooded cloak, fluttering and billowing at the edge of the woods. Then it disappeared.

  His heart rocketed to his throat. It can’t be!

  All the stories he’d heard of the lady in white of The Abbey came rushing back at once, intensifying his panic.

  Then he calmed. Someone had to be messing with him. It wasn’t the girl. Kelly had taken off, a bawling mess, across the field several minutes before and he’d heard the slam of the iron gate. He was alone. Unless … the guys had pulled a fast one on him.

  But the guys don’t know about your room in the cells.

  Beau cut across the grass, anxious to get to the iron gate and back to the party. Almost to the path, he glanced back over his shoulder to the patch of trees where he had seen the ghostly presence. Nothing was there.

  It was just your imagination. Or was it?

  He made it to the party at the beach, relieved to be back among people, but the incident with the ghost had eradicated his high.

  He hungered for it to return but would have to wait.

  The music had stopped, the revelers had thinned, and those who were left were packing up to go. Most had midnight curfews, including Beau.

  He set out across the sand, avoiding numerous bottles and piles of trash in his path. His heels angrily dug in as he walked. Beau was ready to collect Mitch and Josh and head out to make his curfew. He searched the weary faces around him until he spotted the black curls and broad shoulders of his friend.

  Mitch sat on a picnic bench and chugged a beer. Two girls slept curled up next to him.

  “Dude, what’s this?” He slapped Mitch’s knee and waved to the girls.

  His friend lifted his beer to his lips, appearing unfazed. “They passed out a while ago.”

  He leaned over and checked their faces. “Who are they?”

  “Beverly.” Mitch got up and wobbled slightly, pointing to a slim brunette sleeping next to him. “And Lindsey. The Covington High girls, remember?”

  Josh stumbled forward, coming from the bushes and tugging on his zipper.

  “We were about to go look for you. It’s getting late.”

  Beau ran his hands through his hair, his anger creeping upward. “Let’s get out of here.” He lowered his voice, mindful of the others around them. “I’ve got to get home to make my curfew. My old man will pitch a fit if I’m late.”

  “Where have you been?” Mitch asked, tossing his empty bottle to the sand. “I don’t remember seeing you around.”

  Beau picked up the bottle. “How could you with all those shots you did? Besides, you were busy.” Beau motioned to the unconscious girls. “What did you give them? They’re out cold.”

  “Wine.” Josh wiped a bit of sand from his shirt, grinning. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “I said tipsy, not dead drunk.” Beau tossed the bottle to a garbage can several feet away, making it in on the first try.

  Mitch glanced behind him to the river. “Where’s that Kelly girl? I saw you heading off with her. You make it with her?”

  Beau’s heart sped up, remembering her whimpers as he raped her, but he downplayed his encounter to avoid unwanted attention.

  “She wasn’t my type. I left her by one of the bonfires.”

  “You should have given Kelly some wine.” Josh snickered and stumbled, almost falling to the ground before Mitch caught him.

  Lindsey sat up, weaving as she held her head. “Wait? Kelly left us?” She looked around the beach. “How are we supposed to get home? She was our ride.”

  Josh helped her from the bench. “Beau will take you home.”

  Beau’s cheeks burned. He was ready to kill. “I’ve got to make my curfew.”

  Lindsey wobbly sashayed up to Beau, going for sexy but came across as pathetic. Still very drunk, she rubbed up against him.

  “I’ll do anything you want if you give me a ride home.”

  Beau pushed her away. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

  His phone rang with a rap ringtone. He checked the caller ID and frowned. Dawn. Probably to check up on him. She had also left one text. He returned the phone to his back pocket. He would deal with her later.

  Josh put his hand on Beau’s shoulder. “What do we do with the girls? We can’t just leave them.”

  Lindsey wrapped her arms around Josh’s thick neck. “Take me home with you.”

  There were times his friends were more trouble than they were worth, but if he left the girls behind, people might hear about it. Best not to make waves and keep up appearances—just like his old man wanted.

  “Get the girls. Carry them if you have to.” Beau moved back toward the path leading to the parking lot. “I’ll drive them home.”

  “But they live in Covington?” Mitch objected while following him. “It will take you another hour at least, and you’ve got your curfew.”

  “We can’t leave them here.” Beau checked the clock on his phone. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly.”

  “My hero.” Lindsey left Josh and went to him, slipping her arms around his neck.

  Her foul breath and slutty behavior sickened him. He wanted to slap her away and kick her senseless to teach her a lesson. Instead, he peeled her off him and pushed her back at Josh.

  “It’s time to go.”

  Once the girls were safely in his car with Josh and Mitch nestled in beside them, Beau headed out of the parking lot and turned on to the dimly lit road.

  The trees whipped by as he picked up speed, creating undulating shadows reminiscent of the odd presence he had see
n by The Abbey. Had someone meant to frighten him? But who? The drunk ramblings of Josh and Mitch intruded on his thoughts; their hyena-like laughter grated on his nerves.

  They act like stupid boys.

  The evening exemplified the difference between boys and men. Boys, like Josh and Mitch, chased girls who drank too much and gave in easily to their demands. But Beau was a man. He no longer had interest in a woman who surrendered. He wanted her to struggle, to cry, to beg, to resist, to scream—just like Kelly had.

  * * *

  Beau sighed as he quietly shut the glass doors to the mudroom and stepped into the rear hall of his parents’ home. The exterior security lights filtered through the hall windows as he crept past the kitchen—the clock on the microwave read almost two.

  Don’t get caught. Gage will kill you!

  In the main hall, all the lights were out. Even his father’s study was dark. He tiptoed, holding his black tennis shoes, not trusting them on the old hardwood floor. Years of sneaking around at night had taught him where to walk on so as not to create a single sound.

  Once he made it up the curved oak staircase, he peered into the darkness, searching for lights.

  Fortunately, everyone appeared to be asleep. Beau snuck into his bedroom and shut the door.

  He flipped on the light and looked around, studying the ornate mahogany trundle bed, high dresser with brass features, the carved desk with lions’ heads on the corners, and the widescreen plasma TV he’d insisted on. But the posters of Bugatti cars and svelte Victoria’s Secret models on his walls seemed childish. He would make some changes. It was time for his outsides to reflect his newfound insides.

  After tossing his sand-encrusted tennis shoes aside, Beau crawled into his bed without removing his dusty jeans or long-sleeved shirt. He set his cell phone on his night table and wrapped his comforter around him. A light rapping came from his door.

  Beau turned on his bedside lamp. “What is it?”

  The door creaked open and his mother stepped inside. “You’re home past your curfew.”

  After a ragged sigh, he raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was making sure some drunk girls got home in Covington. I couldn’t let them drive.”