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)
Immediately, the smell of bleach and Lysol rush at me, mingled with the familiar smells of the house that used to be my home. Inside is dark, and one flick of the light switch tells me the power is off.
I look around. Everything has been straightened. Except for the board over the kitchen window, there is no hint of an assault taking place in this house. It’s very tidy and clean.
“The prospects cleaned up.”
“I will thank them,” I whisper, still looking around at the little house. We never had much money. The furniture is threadbare and old, and the carpet has seen better days. Even the glass in the windows is warped by age. But it was home once, and despite our lack of money and the weight of my uncle’s addictions and illness, these walls have seen a lot of happy times too.
Like when I came home from middle school to find my uncle had created a party for two to celebrate me winning a prize at the science fair.
Or the many times he would put a JJ Cole record on the old record player, and we would dance around the room, laughing and feeling free.
When I was little, he would sit with me on the couch in front of the fire and read all the fairytales to me, making funny voices for every one of the characters.
There were happy times here.
That’s when I remember the secret hiding place.
It’s behind a loose brick in the hearth. Leaving the couch, I kneel in front of the fireplace, jimmy the brick free, and reach into the dark cavity. I pull out the small enamel box with the cluster of roses on the lid. Inside is the locket my mom gave me for my fourth birthday.
I kept it hidden in the secret hiding place because I would die if someone broke in and stole it so they could pawn it for a couple of bucks. It’s all I have left of my mom and dad.
I pry it open with my fingernail, and inside is a photo of each of my parents.
“I don’t remember anything about them,” I say when I feel Beast looking at me. I study the photos. My father was handsome and my mom was very beautiful. “It’s like my life only started after their accident. I can’t remember a moment with them in it.”
I tuck the locket into the back pocket of my jeans. They are the only photos I have of my parents. After they were killed, our house was burned down in the fire that almost destroyed St. Boniface, and everything we owned was lost.
I look at Beast. “My uncle is all I have left.”
“No,” he says in that rumbly voice. “He’s not all you have.” He takes my hand. “You’re not alone, Belle. You have a family waiting for you.”
He’s right, and warmth spreads through my chest when I think of the friends I have made in the last few weeks. Mya and the club girls. The old ladies. Even Annika.
They are my family now.
And Beast.
My husband.
I turn to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I don’t care who his brother is. To me, Beast isn’t Gaston’s brother. He’s my husband. The man who saved me that night.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his neck.
He claims my mouth and kisses me, and it’s sweet and gentle, and a reminder that this man is so much more than the beast people think he is.
I pull away to look up at him. “Let’s go home, Beast. Let’s go back to the clubhouse.”
CHAPTER 48
BEAST
There is no feeling like riding toward home with my wife’s arms wrapped around my waist and her sweet ass perched on the leather seat behind me. She belongs on my bike. And in my bed. And when we get back to the clubhouse, I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon showing her why.
The weather is getting bad. Dark clouds bruise the sky, and there’s a tension in the air that could snap any minute. The storm is going to hit, and it feels like it is going to hit hard.
I love weather like this. When the sky brews with thunder and lightning and an approaching power that could explode at any minute.
I push the Harley faster.
When we get into my room, I’m going to light a fire then slowly peel every piece of clothing from Belle’s luscious body. Then I’m going to claim her in my bed and make her come with my name on her lips. And in her heart. She is my wife. And from today onward, I’m going to show her exactly what that means to me.
I steer the Harley one-handed and place the other over her hands resting on my stomach. The streets are empty, the stores have closed, and people are already taking shelter from the approaching storm. There is no one around, and as the narrow streets of the town give way to the wide roads winding through the green fields toward the clubhouse, it feels like we’re the only people on Earth.