“Stay behind me,” he murmured. Belle didn’t argue, and Beast realized for the first time since he’d rolled into town on four good tires that he didn’t mind the idea of sticking arounduntil he knew exactly who the hell was trying to pick a fight in Savage Hell’s parking lot.
BELLE
Belle heard the bike before she saw it—low, throaty, and mean. He wasn’t one of Savage’s guys and not someone who belonged here at the bar. But she couldn’t seem to bring herself to tell Beast that she knew him. Honestly, she was hoping that it wasn’t him, but she couldn’t be sure of that until he removed his helmet. The moment her ex rolled into the gravel lot, a cold thread of tension wrapped itself around her spine.
Beast stepped in front of her without hesitation, big and solid like a wall she hadn’t known she needed. Belle didn’t argue with his decision to stand between her and possible danger. She hadn’t survived this long by pretending danger was harmless. But she hated that she needed cover at all.
The rider didn’t move, didn’t lift the visor of his helmet, and didn’t speak. He just sat there staring at them as if weighing something invisible between them all. The quiet felt as though it dragged on for hours, not just seconds, until the doors behind them slammed open. Savage strode out, followed by Bolt and Ryder, the club’s pilot. They were all moving with that same coiled readiness she recognized from a dozen nights working thebar. It was the kind where a man didn’t have to speak for her to know a line was about to be drawn.
The rider finally killed the engine, and Bell’s breath caught. Please don’t let it be—she couldn’t finish that thought. But the way he tilted his head, the slow, taunting lift of his hand to his visor—yeah, it was him—Shane.
He was trouble wrapped in leather and bad decisions. The ex she’d once thought she could fix, and God, that made her feel like an idiot. He was the man who’d taught her in one ugly lesson that some people weren’t broken—they were wired wrong from the start.
Beast’s shoulders went rigid when the visor flipped up, revealing that cocky, shark-like grin she knew too damn well. “Morning, Belle,” Shane drawled, eyes sliding over Beast like he wasn’t worth the dust under his boots. “Didn’t know you’d started picking up strays.” Beast took a step forward, but Belle grabbed a fistful of his jacket before he could do something stupid. His muscles felt like stone under her hand.
“I’m not doing this with you,” Belle said to Shane, forcing her voice to stay level and steady. “You need to leave.”
“Leave?” Shane laughed, the sound scraping across her nerves. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to tell me where I can or can’t go. Last I checked, this was still a free country.”
Savage moved closer, arms crossed. “Parking lot’s not part of your free country, asshole. You’re trespassing on my property, and you know damn well you’re not welcome here.” Ryder and Bolt flanked his sides, silent, steady, and dangerous. For the first time, Shane’s grin faltered. He straightened in his seat, flicking a look at the patched men surrounding him. A smart man would turn around, but Shane had never been smart. His only saving grace was that he wasn’t suicidal either.
His eyes flicked back to Belle. “I heard you were asking about me,” he said. “That you were curious where I’d been. ThoughtI’d come save you the trouble and show up.” Belle’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t said a word about Shane to anyone. Not one single person. But Shane always had ears in low places.
“I wasn’t asking about you,” she said calmly. “I haven’t thought about you since we broke up.” The lie slid out quietly. Shane’s gaze flicked again to Beast—the big stranger with the storm brewing behind his eyes.
“And who’s this?” Shane sneered. “Your new boyfriend? You move fast, Belle.” The men around them tensed, and she knew that if Shane said much more, he’d end up needing an ambulance to leave the parking lot.
Belle stepped forward, no longer holding Beast back. “He’s none of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business,” Shane muttered, low and ugly.
Beast moved then—slow, controlled, lethal. “If you have something to say,” he said, voice rumbling like distant thunder, “say it to me.” Shane’s jaw twitched. His bravado shrank just a fraction in the shadow of Beast’s size and presence. Then he spat in the gravel and smirked, trying to recover whatever scraps of pride he had left.
“Careful, Belle,” he said, backing up his bike. “You don’t know who you’re letting into your life.”
Belle didn’t flinch. “I know exactly who I let out of it.” Savage took a single step forward, a silent warning. Shane finally revved the engine sharply, turned the bike, and tore out of the lot. Only when the sound faded did Belle realize her hand was still on the back of Beast’s jacket. He looked down at her hand, then back at her, his eyes searching her face like he was trying to read the truth she never told anyone.
“You okay?” Beast asked. Belle nodded. It was another lie, but telling him the truth now would only have her breakingdown in tears, and that was the last thing she wanted to do in front of all the bikers.
Savage walked up beside her. “You know he’s not done, right?”
Belle swallowed. “I’m aware.”
Beast’s voice was low and steady. “Why was he here?” Belle’s throat tightened. Not because she didn’t know the answer. But because she did, and she worried that Beast wouldn’t want anything to do with her afterward.
“He came to remind me,” she said softly, “that people like him don’t let go.” Beast stepped closer, angling himself in her eyeline, forcing her to look at him and not the empty road Shane had taken.
“Well,” Beast said, voice edged with something dark and protective, “he’s gonna learn I don’t either.” Belle’s breath stalled, and for the first time in years, she wasn’t sure if she was more terrified or relieved.
She couldn’t believe that her ex had shown up at the bar, but nothing Shane did surprised her anymore. Belle didn’t want to talk about it, though. Not again, and not in the middle of the bar, and not with half the club still lingering by the door and the last traces of Shane’s engine echoing in the distance. But Beast was watching her with those steady, too-perceptive eyes, and Savage wasn’t the type to let danger walk into his territory unanswered.
So Belle drew in a breath, squared her shoulders, and said, “Let’s go inside.”
Savage nodded, “We can use my office.” Beast stayed at her side as they walked back into the bar. He stayed close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off him. And he was closeenough that she knew he’d stop anyone who so much as looked at her wrong. Not that the crew would do anything like that since they all seemed to like Belle. They protected her, but Beast didn’t know that. He was just protecting her anyway, and that confused the hell out of her.
Inside the office, the door clicked shut, and for the first time since Shane showed up, Belle felt safe.
Savage leaned against the desk with his arms folded across his massive chest. “Talk.” He was always a man of few words, and now was no exception.
