Monday morning, Beast woke up before the sun and found a text from Savage that Cillian had his rig, and the new tires should be ready to roll out in about two hours. Beasts quickly sent him a thank-you text and pulled on a pair of gym shorts. He was going to make some coffee, and then, he’d pack his things and help Belle pack her stuff. They’d have to pick up a few things forBelle since it was cold up north, and she didn’t have many warm clothing options.
They got to Cillian’s garage just before ten in the morning. It smelled of grease and burnt oil, a familiar, comforting stink that reminded Beast of every long haul that had gone sideways—and a few that hadn’t. Savage met them at the garage and introduced them to Cillian.
“New tires are on, brakes checked, fluids topped off,” Cillian said, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “Savage made sure this one didn’t leave until it was solid. You’re good to go.”
“I appreciate that, Savage. And I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me, Cillian,” he said. Savage was still insisting that Beast wouldn’t pay one cent of the bill. He said that it was the least he could do since his tires were slashed on Savage Hell’s property.
Beast ran a hand over the hood of his truck and nodded. “Thanks,” Beast muttered, tossing Cillian a nod.
“You got it,” Cillian said with a grin. “And hey, Merry Christmas. Don’t get in trouble on your way home.” He bobbed his eyebrows at Belle, and she grumbled something about him being an idiot, making them all laugh. Beast had to admit that if he was sticking around Huntsville, he could see himself joining the Royal Bastards. He felt comfortable around the other guys, which was something new to him. Plus, it would be nice to have brothers whom he could count on.
“Merry Christmas,” he said to Cillian and Savage. Belle hugged both men and promised to keep them updated, and they did the same to her, promising that they’d let her know what Shane was up to.
Beast climbed into the driver’s seat as Belle slid in beside him, her small bag tucked on the floor at her feet. She gave him a quick, nervous smile.
“You ready?” he asked.
Belle nodded. “I think so.”
“Good,” he said, turning the key. The engine hummed to life, smooth and strong, and Beast felt that rare surge of satisfaction when a machine cooperated. “We’ve got a long drive ahead, so buckle in. No sudden stops, no swerving for squirrels, and absolutely no backseat driving.”
“Too late,” she muttered, adjusting the heater vent.
Beast chuckled, his hand brushing hers for a moment before he gripped the wheel. “I’ll survive. We’ll make Yonkers before midnight tomorrow if nothing goes sideways.”
They hit the highway, the truck rolling down the road like it had a new purpose. Belle leaned back, knees drawn to her chest, head tilting against the seat. She glanced at him every so often, soft and quiet, and Beast felt that tug in his chest—protective, possessive, and restless.
Savage had set Hurricane up to be their backup, if they needed some, keeping an eye on Belle’s old house and Shane’s likely moves. Beast didn’t say it aloud, but that knowledge made the drive less tense. He didn’t have to glance in the rearview every few minutes—not entirely.
The miles stretched under them—frosted fields, sleepy towns, long stretches of highway, and for the first time in weeks, Beast felt something close to peace. The road wasn’t chasing him. He wasn’t running from anything right now. He was going toward something. Toward family, toward Belle, toward a Christmas he didn’t expect to have. And she was right there beside him—warm and trusting.
“Beast,” she said softly after a while. “Thanks for all of this. For bringing me along with you. For making me feel safe.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but his jaw tightened. “You’re worth it, and I’d do it all again.” Belle leaned a little closer, brushing her shoulder against his. He didn’t move away. Noteven a little. He loved the need she seemed to have to constantly be touching him. He felt the same way about her.
The road unwound beneath them, darkening as the sun set, the truck steady and true. And Beast drove with one hand on the wheel, and the other holding onto Belle like he never wanted to let her go.
Yonkers was waiting. His mother, the holidays, Belle in the passenger seat—everything ahead of him felt heavier, more important, and somehow exactly right.
BELLE
Belle stared out the window as the miles slipped past. The winter landscape blurred together—bare trees, frozen grass, the occasional diner or gas station—but she barely registered it. Her mind was halfway between wondering if she’d done the right thing and trying not to fidget under Beast’s calm, steady presence behind the wheel.
He drove like he owned the road, hands firm on the wheel, eyes sharp. The low rumble of the truck under her made her heart beat a little faster, though she couldn’t tell if it was nerves or something else entirely. She’d ridden in trucks before, but there was something about this one, and its driver, that made her pulse pick up without warning.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Beast said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just thinking,” she said. She didn’t explain what, not really. She knew he could read her too easily anyway.
“About what?” he prodded, voice calm but teasing enough to make her cheeks heat.
“About Christmas,” she admitted softly. “Meeting your family. Your mom and dad. I don’t know what to say to people I barely know.”
Beast’s thumb brushed over her hand for a brief second before letting go. “Relax. You don’t have to say anything. Just be you.” She swallowed, nodding, but couldn’t stop the nervous twist in her stomach. Meeting Beast’s mother and father, the people who had raised him, now that was intimidating.
By the time the skyline of Yonkers appeared, Belle’s stomach was a tight knot of anticipation and fear. She tugged the sweater around her, adjusting herself in the passenger seat as if she could physically prepare to meet Beast’s family.
Beast didn’t speak as they pulled into his parents’ driveway. He just parked the truck, turned off the engine, and reached over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You ready?”
