Daring to approach the brothers’ tension-filled embrace, Livia touched one of Beckett’s coiled arms. “Beckett.” She waited until his furious face turned toward her mouth. “I still need you. Here. I can’t wait for him without you. You promised. I’m not man enough. Remember?”
Livia held her breath.
“You’ve got your sister,” he said quietly.
“Let go of him, Cole. Please.” Livia nodded at the puzzle of arms, each with its own agenda.
Cole looked reluctant as he stepped away, keeping his body between Beckett and Chris.
“It has to be all of us. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. We all have to sit here and hope for the best. Pray for the best. Even with that pile of shit right there.” Livia didn’t have to point; they could all feel pulsating of the evil that was lodged in Chris.
“We have to think about Blake—getting fixed, getting healed, getting back to us. Adding murder to tonight is wrong. It’s all wrong. You have to make a different choice. I trust you, Beckett. You can do this.”
Livia’s earnest words seemed to make Beckett want to curse. His face boiled red for a moment. Only Beckett could hear Livia’s gentle breath that pleaded, “Please.”
Rather than leaping to action, he rubbed his forehead and took in great gasps of air. Finally, he grabbed her head in a giant hug. “For you, Whitebread. Only for fucking you.

Author: Debra Anastasia