Page 115 of Beast

I try to rationalize him withholding this from me. He was trying to protect me from the truth. But he wasn’t protecting me, he was protecting himself by keeping it from me.

In essence he lied.

I will never lie to you, little one.

Which was just a big fat lie in itself.

I stand up so quick Mya has to lean back.

“Where is he?”

“Gaston?”

“No, Beast.”

“It’s lunchtime, so probably in Church. But you won’t want to disrupt them while they’re in Church,” she calls out.

But I’m already burning rubber along the corridor leading to the sweeping staircase. My entire body is tight with pain and anger and...hurt.

The man who almost killed my uncle and who was moments away from raping me is the brother of the man who forced me to marry him.

Breathe, Belle.

But I can’t. My emotions tumble inside me like a tornado, churning up the fear I felt when Gaston dragged me into that kitchen and I saw what he’d done to Uncle Maurice. And they keep churning and tumbling, until I’m bent over that table again with Gaston’s hands all over my body and I know he's about to rape me.

Blinded by the emotion, I storm outside of the clubhouse and across the garden.

There are two prospects standing guard at the door when I get to the chapel. One tries to stop me from entering, but I’m a burning ball of fiery anger. “Get out of my way, or so help me God, I will find a way into this building that is far more violent than walking in through the front door.”

My tone leaves no doubt that I mean it, and when they both step aside I stomp up the steps and rip open the door.

Fourteen faces all swing around to look in my direction and a blast of leather and testosterone fills my senses. Beast is sitting at the end of a long wooden table but doesn’t react.

Until I throw the hairbrush that is still in my hand at him. It just misses his head and hits the wall behind him. “You asshole.”

Darkness sweeps through his expression. I don’t know for sure, but I’m probably breaking the sanctity of Church by doing this. But I don’t give a damn.

Fuck this club and their rules.

And fuck Beast to hell.

“Gaston is your brother?”

Beast is calm but the look on his face tells me I have crossed a line and there will be trouble.

He rises slowly from his place at the head of the table, looking more like a demon rising from hell than a man.

His expression darkens and a shiver rolls down my spine.

But I don’t give a damn.

I’m not afraid.

Heshould be afraid.

Because I have something to say and he’s not going to like it.

“Everybody out,” he barks with a thunderclap.

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