“And she has nowhere to go, Beast,” she continued. “She has to come here, and you have to protect her if anything happens.”
I stared down at her, feeling like a giant asshole in this piece-of-shit trailer she called a home, and she stared up at me, her eyes filled with so much hurt and anger, her body practically vibrating with it, and I felt it again—the connection we had, like a small current of electricity running between us. It was still there, but it was faint. I didn’t believe in fate or any of that shit, but if I did then I’d believe she was my fate, my destiny, or whatever the hell else you wanted to call it.
Our lives were threaded, even if she didn’t want them to be anymore.
She’d never understand why it had to be me to pull the trigger, and I wouldn’t ever try to explain it to her, but she had to know that it was all about me and nothing to do with her, and fuck me but I was trying to fix that shit.
“Promise me that you won’t let her get hurt,” she said, her tone softening and expression pleading.
“Why is this woman so important to you? You have Jenna, right? She raised you, she gave you everything you needed, so why bring this bitch that abandoned you into your life? You don’t owe her anything.” I reached for her and she didn’t pull away. I placed a hand on either bicep and she stayed fixed in place, a firm resolve in her expression. I wanted to pull her in and kiss her, then fuck her so hard the trailer would fall apart around us, turning to nothing but broken pieces and dust—which actually wouldn’t take an awful lot, given its current condition.
“She’s not important,” she said, her voice quieter and her eyes shimmering. “I hate her.”
I frowned. “If you hate her then why are you letting her come here?”
Her chin trembled and it was obvious even to a dumbass like me that she regretted her decision to let her stay and didn’t want to go through with it, but something was holding her back. Something was making her do this. Fuck me, how many secrets did she have?
Belle took a deep breath and then, as if realizing that I was touching her, she shrugged out of my grip. “Don’t touch me, Beast,” she said, turning away. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“Belle—” But I didn’t know what to say after that. “I’ll drive you, when you’re ready to go,” I said instead of saying what I really wanted to.
She looked back at me and nodded before heading back to her room and closing the door behind her. Everything was starting to hurt: my chest my arms, my legs, even my face. I headed out to my bike to grab my painkillers and the lotion that I used to put on my burns. Every step was beginning to feel like glass was being dragged through my muscles, and I winced with every movement. I was parked at the back of the trailer where a ton of old crap had been left abandoned for who knows how long. I’d thrown some tarp over the whole pile to hide what was under it, and now it resembled a pile of junk instead of my most prized position. But it had to be done so Mateo and Carlos wouldn’t know I was there.
The club had also put Dom and one of the prospects in the trailer opposite so that we were constantly watched. I looked up at it now, watching as the blinds twitched, and I gave a subtle nod in their direction as I lifted the tarp and rooted through my saddlebags for my meds. I shook out two pills onto my tongue, swallowing them quickly and wishing for something stronger, but knowing I needed to keep a clear head. Besides, going back in there high would only further infuriate Belle and I’d already done that enough today.
Heading back inside, I clasped the tub of burn cream tightly in my hand. Belle was still in her room, no doubt pacing back and forth and figuring out ways to kill me without rousing suspicion. I shrugged out of my cut and pulled my T-shirt over my head, every movement painful, like I was back at the barn and flames were licking at my skin again.
I unscrewed the lid and dipped my hand in before smoothing the cold cream over my skin. It stung like a motherfucker at first, but the pain began to ease as it soaked in, and the tightness to my skin lessened, making it so I could move more freely. It was like my skin had shrunk and was way too small for the body it was trying to contain. The weights I’d been lifting probably didn’t help with that though, because with all traces of fat having wasted away this past year and then working out like a maniac the past couple of weeks, I was now just pure muscle. I was large before, broad shouldered, my chest hard and defined and tapering down to a thick band of muscle around my stomach and hips, but that was nothing compared to now. The only way I’d been able to control my temper and not fall apart had been to work out. I’d been lifting heavier and heavier weights, building and defining each muscle as I stared at the names of my fallen brothers on the benches outside the clubhouse. The ache and burn in my muscles from exercising took away from the pain inside my head and the need to lash out at anyone and everything that got in my way. I wasn’t a beautiful man by any means though, and I wasn’t trying to be. I was ugly as sin, both inside and out, broken, torn apart, but still breathing. No matter how much I wished I wasn’t.
I smothered the cream over my arms and chest, focusing on blocking out the pain as my calloused hands smoothed over the ridges of my muscles, but there was no way to reach my back. I glanced over at Belle’s closed door and considered knocking on it and asking her to help, but I had a feeling she’d only have two words for me, the second one of them being the wordoff.
I chuckled as I remembered her telling me to fuck off back at the clubhouse.
Sitting back down, I breathed a sigh of relief as the burning pain I felt daily dampened to a low throb and I got a brief respite. A lot had happened in twenty-four hours and I didn’t know what the next twenty-four held for Belle or for me, but one thing I was sure on more than anything else was that we were close to catching Echo’s killers. So close that I could practically feel their blood growing cold under my fingertips, the screams lingering in my ears as I showed them what real pain was. What real torture was.
Chapter Nineteen
~ Belle ~
My cell buzzed and vibrated against my leg and I fished it out of my pocket, vaguely recognizing the number on the screen. This number had called me so many times over the past couple of months, and each time I dreaded answering it. The voice on the other end was a stranger wearing a cotton candy smile, telling me all the things that I wanted to hear and yet knew weren’t true—no matter how much I wanted them to be.
I sighed and hit the accept button, putting it to my ear. “Hello?”
A robotic voice spoke on the other end. “An inmate from Emanuel Women’s Facility is trying to contact you. Will you accept the charges?”
“I’ll accept,” I replied numbly.
Mom. If she could really be called that.
My heart sagged right along with my shoulders.
“Sweetheart!” her overly happy voice filtered out of the earpiece, carving another piece out of my already damaged heart. “It’s me, your mama.”
As usual, whenever she said those words, my skin crawled and my stomach tumbled over and over like I was going to be sick.
“Hey,” I replied sullenly.
I could hear shouting and arguing in the background, the familiar chatter of women, and doors opening and closing, but she raised her voice to speak over them. “I’ll be ready to leave here in a couple of hours. Don’t be late to pick me up, okay? I want to get as far away from here as quickly as I can. Do you have everything ready for me?”
