Chapter 47: Rule #47: Guard Your Thoughts, They Hold All the Power.

Beauregard.

I didn't know what to expect when I saw Beatrice, I surely didn't expect her to be terrified when she saw me, but then again, I had chosen a criminal over her, someone who threatened her freedom and life, and for all intents and purposes never gave her the option to trust me for me, always me in the scope of Javier's bastard brother.

"It is a pretty porch." She said quietly, scaring the shit out of me, I was too lost in thought and had let my guard down. I didn't hear her open the door or hear her close it behind her.

"Sorry," Beatrice said, sitting down in one of the Adirondack chairs.

"It's fine," I said turning around leaning against the wooden railing, and looking at her, she looked good, she was clean, and the dress looked pretty on her, better than those disgusting sweats or that straitjacket of a dress.

"You look really good Bea," I said, voicing my thoughts. She looked down at her dress at my compliment.