Guilt coursed through me. The kitchen had been a mess. However, I didn't remember exactly what I'd done. The last thing I remembered was white-hot rage taking over my body, controlling me. The next time I actually saw anything was in the morning when I woke up in Tristan's bed.
The side where he'd slept was unmade, but he was gone. I guessed he'd left, had things to do. I pushed myself off, waddled to the toilet and then made my way downstairs to find Rose. On the way, that had been when I saw the kitchen. Or at least, what was left of it. The counters had been trashed, cracks showing in each of them. There was splintered wood all over the place, and glass stained the floor. Nothing had survived my rage – all of the pretty ornaments that had sat on the table top were lying on the floor broken, and the window had a slight crack in it. The only things that seemed untouched were the cupboard doors. I didn't dare look inside them. I was afraid of what I'd see.
It had taken me about half an hour to hunt down Rose, and I'd apologised about one hundred times before she stopped me, telling me that the kitchen had probably seen worse. Although, she'd told me that she certainly wouldn't want to be on my bad side. I still felt guilty, so I had started to clean up the kitchen, which is where Beau found me, on my hands and knees.
"Is that safe? Or even comfortable?" He asked, worry in voice. I brushed him off.
"It feels as if I'm about to faceplant at any moment but I can't have Rose cleaning it up." I said, using the bright yellow dustpan and brush. In hindsight, it probably would have been better to use a broom but I hadn't been thinking clearly. I'd just felt really bad.
"Why not? When everyone else trashed the kitchen, she cleaned it up." Beau said, and I glared at him.
"Yes, but I'm not an inconsiderate twat." He flinched and I apologised. He said nothing but I felt warmth come off him as he bent down and helped me pick up the glass.
"I'm just worried about you. Last night was..."
"Scary?" He shook his head.
"More like petrifying. You've kept that side hidden well." Beau gave me a small smile, as he carefully cupped a handful of glass and placed it in the plastic bag. "I think even Kelly is a little frightened of you."
"Really?"
"Well, you were basically strangling him to death." I stopped for a moment, contemplating that fact. I may have had my hand on his throat (or had I?) but there was no intention to harm him. I just wanted some facts. Maybe I needed some anger management...
"To be honest, I can't really remember last night very well. I just remember seeing that wall and..." I stopped, taking in a deep breath, the fire threatening to re-surface, "and I guess I lost it."
"We were all scared for the baby. But Mason and that girl stopped us from restraining you."
"Yeah..." My cheeks tingled a little. "There have been a few incidents."
While we cleaned, I told Beau some of the stories. Not all of them were about me, thankfully. I included a couple about Mason and then some about Vincent. There weren't any about Jo. She was more of the cold shoulder person. The girl could win a trophy for the longest grudge held. To this day, she still gave Tom Michaels the silent treatment for standing her up. And that had apparently happened when she was like twelve. For five years, she'd held a grudge over being stood up. That took a lot of dedication. To me, it just sounded like a lot of work.
Eventually though, we swept up all the glass, and placed it in a black bin bag, which we'd lined with newspapers. There was nothing we could do for the cracked counters and Beau had forced me to leave the splinters alone. He said that he'd get one of the guys to clear it up.
Even though we'd tidied most of the kitchen, I still wasn't feeling right, so Beau decided to take me out of the house. On the way out, we passed Kelly who had flinched and practically jumped out of the way. I'd made sure to apologise to him as well. It wasn't exactly his fault, but the fact that they might have known about Will's obsession just sent me off the edge. He said he'd understood, but there was still that wary look on his face. I was sure that I wouldn't be seeing Kelly around anytime soon.
"Where are we going?" I asked as we got into a little red Ford. He just tapped his nose. We drove for a while, out of Vienna Downs and onto the dual carriageway. Frowning, I stared at the blurred trees and bushes, keeping my mouth zipped. I doubted that he would tell me where we were going. We were only on the carriageway for about ten, fifteen minutes before we were driving into a new little village.
When we'd got further in, Beau rolled down his windows. The smell of salt and the sea filled the car. My eyes widened. We were by the beach? It had been years since I'd visited; Dalla was in bang in the middle of the country, so to get to the beach it was at least an hour's drive. This had taken us half an hour at the most.
"Beau... why are we in a seaside town?" I asked.
"You'll see." A small smile threatened to tug at his lips as we parked up. Now, I couldn't drive but if Bea u had given me complete control I probably would have been a better parker. All he'd done was drive into the space, slam on the brakes and the handbrake. The car had shuddered to a stop. It felt uncomfortable, and because he'd parked wonky, I couldn't get out. I shouted to catch Beau's attention and then motioned to the little space where the door had been opened.
He looked at me apologetically and told me to climb over to his side. Now, if I hadn't been carrying the extra weight, it wouldn't have mattered. Unfortunately, my belly was cradling another human being and so it was the most awkward experience I'd ever have. It took me at least five minutes to get to Beau's seat, and another five to sit and be pulled out. We did it though: I got out of the car!
The sound of seagulls crying grated my ears but I was too happy to care. The sight of something different made me feel alive.
"Come on." Beau took my hand and guided me as I looked around. We were right by the seafront, and tall white houses lined the street opposite. We passed a couple of shops, each slightly different (some for beach wear, some for beach equipment, some pubs and cafes) and we passed a huge ice-cream stand that jutted out from the wall separating the large fall to the beach.
Going down the sandy steps, I told Beau to stop so I could take off my trainers and socks. Beau helped me this time which sped up the process. My feet took pleasure in the soft grains and my body felt at ease, my anger drifting away. It was because of my daydreaming that I got the shock of my life.
"Surprise!" I heard several people shout. My hands flew to cover my heart. In front of me, in swim wear, were Mason, Vincent, Jo, Harvey, Dylan, Thom and Tristan. All smiling, with a picnic blanket and some food on the floor.
"What... is this?" I asked, stumped.
"Tristan was worried about your health and the amount of stress you've been under for the past day or two." Jo piped up, smiling. My eyes quickly looked to Tristan, whose cheeks were the faintest pink. "And because it's such nice weather, we thought we'd do a beach thing!"
"Thanks guys." I gave them a huge grin before regaining my hand from Beau. Hobbling across the warm sand, I took a seat on the blanket, my feet slowly starting to ache and tire. Everyone dispersed, some staying with me and chatting while others ran off into the sea. I enjoyed the little peace I was given, and for once, didn't care that everyone else was running around while I was stuck on the blanket.
Eventually, Tristan came back, his black hair sopping with sea water. Ignoring the water glistening off his body, he plonked himself beside me. The bits of blanket underneath him started to darken.
"I didn't take you a soppy romantic." I was still staring at the ocean, which was sparkling under the sun.
"I'm not."
"Really?" I was grinning. "Because you know, a romantic would arrange for a picnic on the beach."
"I suggested that we go somewhere different. Your female friend wanted somewhere where she could attract attention. It was Dylan who said the beach."
"Sure." I let him pretend it wasn't his idea. "But thanks, anyway."
He said nothing, just threw a wet arm around my neck, catching the end of my hair. I grunted, but didn't push his arm away. There were a couple of minutes of silence before either of us spoke.
"Are you ever going to tell me about why you're all so scared of Will?" I was fearful of Will, there was no doubt about it, but I was hoping that my anger would override all my other senses. "And about why he has my family tree?"
"Samara..."
"I'm a big girl, Tristan. I can handle the truth."
"It's not as simple as that." I felt him sigh. "You probably won't believe it."
"Don't you think I'm owed the truth? I'm carrying Will's child. What if he's a serial murderer? I need to be prepared in case she starts showing murder-y symptoms!" I exclaimed.
"Murder-y symptoms?" He chuckled.
"You know, abusing animals from a young age before moving on to people. What if she's a cannibal? I want to know to be able to protect myself!"
"I can assure you that Will isn't a serial murderer or a cannibal."
"But you still won't tell me?" I turned to him, pouting my lips and making my eyes as big as I could. He groaned at me.
"How about this, when I think you're ready, I'll tell you?" I thought about it and nodded.
"On one condition." I smirked at him, my plan forming in my head.
"What?"
"You have to pinky swear."
"Pinky swear?" Confusion filled his pretty face. I patted his cheek, hard.
"You have to lock your pinky finger with mine and then say that you pinky promise." I held out my pinky. He looked at it blankly. "Come on then!"
He shook his head, and linked his pinky with mine.
"If you break your promise, I get to break your little finger." Grinning, I pushed myself up and hobbled away from Tristan, giggling. Within seconds, he'd caught up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Are you always this sly?" He whispered in my ear and butterflies erupted down my spine.
"Only sometimes." He didn't let me go.
The rest of the afternoon was the same: playing around in the sea, grabbing ice creams and just enjoying life for what it was. Their plan had worked, Will's name hadn't even crossed my mind. If only I could have stayed in that afternoon forever.
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I haven't actually proof-read this chapter. I just want to get it out, I'll look at it later if I remember! So any typos, feel free to comment with. But the action is going to get started after this chapter (just a warning, it will be jumping two months ahead) and a secret is going to revealed!
ALSO, since Samara's story is almost at an end (sadly), I wondered if you guys would be interested in another werewolf story I'm writing? (They're my guilty pleasure, sorry!) It's different to this one and Y&Y! And I'm so so so excited to write it. If you guys can get this chapter to 10 votes, I'll post the prologue on my profile and then start updating it when this story has come to an end??
Also, I do apologise how short this chapter is. I didn't want to jump from the last chapter to what I'm planning in the next one so this is a little filler with a little Tristan-Samara moment! :)