“Good man,” Savage grumbled, clapping Beast’s shoulder. “I know that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot and that we barely know each other, but I appreciate you stepping in to help us with this problem.”
“You mean, my problem?” Belle reminded.
“I don’t have to remind you about everything that I said earlier, do I?” Savage asked. “You’re part of this club, and that makes Shane our problem, not just yours.” Belle nodded, but Beast could tell that she was holding back with Savage, not saying what she wanted to say. Did she still feel like a burden around him? He’d never want her to feel that way, especially with him.
“You two need to get going then,” Savage said. “I’ll call Bolt and tell him about the change of plans. Be safe and check in every eight hours, got it?”
“Got it,” Belle said, giving him a mock salute. Beast wanted to laugh, but thought better of it, judging by how serious the two were as they stared each other down.
They stepped outside, and Belle hesitated for a moment before heading toward his rig. “We’re taking your car,” he said gently. “My rig is still down, and I’m not sure that you’ll want her parked in front of your house.”
“Her,” Belle repeated.
He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess it’s like when guys name their cars after women. I call my rig Gloria.”
Belle nodded at the truck, trying not to laugh as she said, “Nice to meet you, Gloria.” She placed her small hand into his own, and Beast felt as though his world might stop spinning. It was the first time she had initiated touching him, and it made him feel things that he hadn’t felt for a damn long time.
“Come on,” she ordered. Belle unlocked her small, older sedan without argument and handed Beast the key. “You drive,” she said, sliding inside the passenger seat. Beast was in the driver’s seat before she’d even buckled her belt. He scanned the lot, from the tree line to the road. Every shadow looked like a threat to him now. Or maybe he was just pissed enough to see things that way.
“You should know that I haven’t named my car,” she teased, smiling over at him.
“Good to know. I’m sure that we can come up with a name for her over dinner,” he said. “Now, how do I get to your place?” He was all business right now, but he liked her playfulness—he’d like to see just how far that extended once he got her back to her place. But for now, he was going to have to keep an eye on things to keep them both safe.
The ride to her house was quiet at first, and that worked for him because he needed to keep his eyes on the road and their surroundings. Belle kept her eye on the road too, like someone who was used to keeping her eyes on her mirrors, and the realization twisted something hot and ugly in Beast’s gut. He hated that she had lived like that for weeks and didn’t tell anyone, but he needed to remember that they had only met each other yesterday. If they had met sooner, he would have made sure that she was safe.
“How long’s he been watching you?” Beast asked finally. He already knew the answer, but he was trying to make conversation.
Belle’s fingers fidgeted on her lap. “A few weeks.”
“You ever see him outside your house?” he asked. She didn’t answer at first, and that was answer enough.
“Belle,” Beast said softly, “I need to know.”
She swallowed. “Yeah. He was out there twice that I know of.” Beast’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hands on the wheel. The idea of Shane lurking around her home, watching her come and go, watching her sleep alone—it had Beast seeing red.
“You should’ve told someone,” he said, voice strained.
“I know.” Her voice was small. “I just didn’t want to make a fuss. I told you and Savage that I didn’t want to cause anyone trouble.”
Beast looked at her, really looked. She wasn’t weak—she just hadn’t allowed anyone to be in her corner. Until now. It was probably a big deal that she was allowing him into her problems, and he needed to remember that—not scold her.
When they turned onto her street, Beast’s entire body locked into alert. It was a quiet neighborhood with small houses, wide yards, and the kind of place people chose when they wanted something peaceful. Beast didn’t like it. Neighborhoods like this always spelled trouble. There were too many blind spots that made it too easy for someone to hide in the shadows. And it was much too easy to watch from a parked car without being noticed by anyone.
He pulled into her driveway and was out of the car before cutting the engine. He scanned the yard, porch, and windows, along with the tree line behind the fence. Beast saw no movement and no sign of Shane. But Beast didn’t trust that for a second.
He got back into the car and cut the engine. “Let me go in first,” he said. Belle opened her mouth like she was about to argue, she seemed stubborn like that, but she shut it again when she saw his face. He waited for her to nod her agreement, and that was all he needed.
Beast got out of the car and grabbed his duffel bag from the back seat. He grabbed Belle’s hand, and they went up the front steps silently; his every sense was on high alert. The door was locked, with no signs of forced entry, which was a good sign. But he still pushed inside slowly, checking around corners, moving through each room with controlled precision. With his background in security, it wasn’t his first time clearing a space.
When he came back to the doorway, Belle stood in the entryway, chewing her bottom lip as she watched him. “It’s clear,” Beast said, “for now.”
Belle stepped further inside her house and exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding her breath since they left the parking lot. “Um, is it alright to use the bathroom?” she asked.
“You don’t have to ask me to do stuff in your own home,” he insisted.
“Okay, I’m just out of my element here. I’m not used to having someone in my space. Not since—” she hesitated, but he knew that she was going to say Shane, but he was thankful that she refrained from doing so.
“You go do what you need to do, and I’ll message Savage that we made it here in one piece,” Beast offered. She disappeared down the hallway to where he had seen the master bedroom. He stood there, listening to the quiet creaks of the house, the faint hum of the fridge, the soft steps of Belle moving around her bedroom. His chest tightened as he looked around. The place was small—cozy, and lived-in. Family pictures hung on the wall. There was a candle on the table, and a damn throw blanket over the back of the couch. It was the opposite of his empty rig that he called home, and for some reason, it made something inside of him ache.
