Page 17 of Beast

I grit my teeth. “That’s not a fucking answer. Who the fuck are they?”

Gaston has always aligned himself with the type of scum who roam the abandoned rail tunnels beneath the town. The drug dealers and pimps who prey on the naïve and the weak.

“They’re my drinking buddies,” he says, his black eyes gleaming. He chuckles. “Weremy drinking buddies, thanks to you. Now I suppose I’ll need to find new ones.”

“I’m sure there’s no shortage of scum for you to choose from.”

“Or maybe I’ll look up an old friend. One with big blue eyes and long blonde hair, and an ass that begs to be fucked.”

He’s taunting me. Because my dumbass brother doesn’t know when to quit.

I get right in his face. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“How can I forget.” His lip curls. “My brother, the president.”

“That’s right. I am the goddamn president of this club, and the only reason you are not festering in the bottom of The Well is because you are my brother.”

The Well is where a lot of our rivals have met their fate. No one survives the fall into the dark pit.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see someone try.”

Stupid motherfucker doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

I wrap my hand around his throat. “Don’t tempt me.”

Gaston likes to hang out in the seedy bars with people who live in the shadows doing things that don’t belong in the light. He likes his violent delights and lewd deeds.

Everyone knew there was something not right with him when he was just a boy. The way he’d grin with evil delight when he lasered insects with a magnifying glass and sunlight. The way he’d pull the heads off the crawdads in the pond on the far side of the clubhouse property.

I believed making him a soldier for the Knights would give him a sense of purpose with the club, instead it only increased the envious disdain he’s held for the club—and me—since I was announced as the next President.

It’s getting harder to control him, and it’s only going to end badly. For whom, I’m not sure.

Tonight was the last straw.

I grab the patch on the front of his cut that reads Soldier and rip it off.

“You sonofabitch,” he seethes. “You’re taking my position in the club away from me?”

“No.” I pull my knife from the sheath on my belt and slice it through his leather cut. The vest falls away. "I'm taking the club from you."

Gaston lets out a wild growl.

“You’re banishing me because I put my hands on a nobody slut? You’re choosingheroverme, your own goddamn brother?”

“You brought this on yourself.” I re-sheath my knife. “The Knights don’t rape.”

“You can’t do this to me.”

“I just did.”

“So what now? You going to leave me chained to the wall?”

“No, I’m throwing you out of the clubhouse.” I release the lock on his shackles and lean in real close so we’re eye level and he can see how serious I am. “And you should be thankful that’s all I’m doing to you. There’s a special place in hell for you, Gaston, and I’m not afraid to send you there sooner rather than later.”

He snarls at me. “All of this because of her?”

Yes.

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