Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
But it’s only a small reprieve from his attack. Shaking it off, he rises to his feet again, his knife blade dripping with my blood.
My eyes get heavy. Blood pours out of me. I can barely keep my eyes open.
I’m dying.
And I don’t know if I can fight off Gaston for much longer.
But I need to get to Belle.
If my time is up, then I’m going to spend my last moments protecting her.
I force myself to my feet, but I start to see stars.
“Belle…”
I take two steps forward, but my knees buckle and I fall to the floor again.
Across the room, I hear Gaston laugh evilly as he begins to approach me one last time.
CHAPTER 62
BELLE
“Take one more step and I’m going to blow your goddamn head off your shoulders.”
I don’t recognize my voice as I raise the gun and aim it at Gaston. My vision is fuzzy, and the relentless hammering inside my head is making it hard to focus.
But I’m full of adrenaline and it’s what keeps me upright.
With his back to me, Gaston turns around, his eyes flaring when he sees I’m armed.
I narrow my eyes on him. “That’s right, asshole, I’ve got a gun.”
After waking up on the floor, I remembered the gun Beast keeps in the nightstand. While Beast and Gaston were fighting, I crawled over to get it.
Gaston laughs, his eyes gleaming with excitement as if this just got more interesting for him. “That’s a pretty big gun for such a little girl.”
“Step away from Beast.”
But he doesn’t. He fixes his gaze to me and wipes the beads of sweat from his mouth, smearing blood across his upper lip. Beast’s blood.
I look at my husband, collapsed on the ground. He’s losing consciousness. Dying. Seeing the blood pooling around him I know he’ll be dead in minutes.
Precious time is ticking by.
I start screaming for help, hoping someone in the clubhouse will hear me.
In response, Gaston starts screaming too. Mocking me. Then he’s laughing, because he is a psychopath and clearly getting off on this.
Then all of a sudden he stops laughing, and his face becomes eerily vacant of any expression. Those eyes tell me all I need to know. They are black and cold and full of evil.
A dark smile curls on his lips. “I do like it when they scream.”
I keep the gun trained on him, despite the heaviness. “You sick fuck.”
He laughs, and it’s cruel and empty of anything good. “But don’t worry, Belle, I’ll make sure you scream louder.”
I grip the gun tighter. “I don’t think so.”
Gaston lunges at me, and without hesitating, I shoot him. Three times. Bam. Bam. Bam.
He stumbles on his feet. And in those few seconds after the gunshots fade away, I see the realization register on his face. His eyes widen. He can’t believe I shot him. He can’t believe it’s over. And he can’t believe I was the one to do it.
Clutching his stomach, he staggers backward then falls to the ground, eyes open, lips parted, his blood quickly pooling beneath him. Dead.
On shaky legs, I stand up and walk over to him. But I don’t see him. Instead, I see my uncle lying bloody and bruised in a hospital bed fighting for his life. I see the cheap table pressed against my cheek as Gaston lowers his zipper behind me.
Lifting my hand, I put another bullet in his face.
And then another right through his heart.
Shock washes over me like cold water, and I drop the gun. But I can’t let the shock get its claws into me because Beast needs me. He’s unconscious now, his chest barely moving with every shallow breath he takes.
Screaming for help again, I run over to him and take him in my arms. I can hear people out in the hallway and know help is on its way. At the end of the day, nothing screams through this clubhouse as loud as gunfire.
“Don’t you die on me,” I beg him, trying to shake him awake. There is so much blood, and it keeps gathering in a puddle beneath him. “Don’t you leave me.”
But he can’t hear me. His big body is splayed across the cobblestones, limp and lifeless, his beautiful lashes lowered to his cheek.
Moonlight streams into the room from the window and he looks almost angelic in the silvery light.
“Please,” I beg him. “Please don’t you die on me. I love you. Do you hear me. I fucking love you.”
But Beast doesn’t respond.
Because he’s stopped breathing.
CHAPTER 63
BELLE
For two weeks, Beast lingers between life and death in a hospital bed. He’s in an induced coma and the doctors keep telling me it is a waiting game now.
I lie beside him, willing him to live, my heart aching for him to open his eyes.
I don’t leave his side.
I can’t leave his side.