Page 149 of Beast

“There’s no need to disturb her. I’ll race to the bathroom and run it under the faucet.”

“No, let me call her, it’s her job?—”

I ignore him and stand so quickly I knock the table, and the glasses shake. “I won’t be a moment.”

Not waiting for a response, I get the fuck out of here.

Despite wantingto get away from Boney while I can, I don’t turn left to run out the front door. Instead, I turn right and slip undetected into his den again.

Because like I said, that vile plastic model of the condos on the clubhouse land is a personal insult to me and the club. And Iwant the world to know what a lying asshole Boney is. Not to mention, a cold-hearted drug lord.

Once inside the den, I pull out my phone and start taking photos, including photos of the room so there is no doubt the model was hidden inside the mayor’s house.

Because when these photos are leaked to the press and appear in Monday’s paper and destroy Boney’s political campaign, I don’t doubt he’ll try to weasel his way out of it and claim he knows nothing about it.

But as I take pictures of it I grow angrier and angrier about it. About the lies. About him trying to destroy the club I love.

About him trying to take my goddamn home from me.

And let’s not get started with his wandering hands at the dinner table.

My inner old lady wakes up and I grab a golf club from the golf bag sitting beside the patio door and start smashing into the model, pulverizing it until it is nothing but a pile of broken plastic.

But it’s not enough. I need to completely destroy it.

I shift my gaze to the fireplace.

There’s a bottle of lighter fluid and a set of matches on the mantle.

It’s stone cold rage I feel when I splash the lighter fluid onto the model. And it’s my inner old lady coming to life when I empty the bottle.

But before I can set fire to it, the door bursts open and Mayor Boney appears in the doorway, red faced and furious when he sees what I have done to his precious model.

“You fucking bitch,” he roars.

I strike the match. “And you’re a fucking liar.”

Before he can move, I drop the match onto the plastic model marinating in lighter fluid, and with a whoosh it lights up like a bonfire.

“No!” Mayor Boney yells from across the room.

He yells for his bodyguard and screams for a fire extinguisher.

“Get her,” he yells when his security men come running.

But I’m already attacking the patio door with a golf club, and when it shatters, I flee across his immaculate lawn and disappear into the night.

I get a mile down the road when I hear the sound of approaching sirens. But coming toward me in the opposite direction is the deep rumbling of a black and chrome Harley Davidson.

It swerves off the road and pulls to a stop in front of me.

“What the fucking hell happened?” Beast asks, climbing off his bike and stalking toward me. “Are you okay? What the fuck did that asshole do to you?”

With two fingers, he tilts my chin so he can inspect my face, looking for signs I’ve been harmed.

“I’m okay, he didn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

---