Page 34 of Beast

Lars whistles as Belle reaches for the drainpipe. “Be still my fucking beating heart. Look at her, she’s a regular little escape artist.” He turns his head and gives me a shit eating grin. “Your old-lady-to-be is going to keep you on your toes, brother.”

Bram looks at me. “You’re marrying this girl?”

“Yes.”

Bram’s eyes shift back to the monitor. “Does she know?”

“You should probably go save her before she hurts herself,” Lars adds.

“She won’t hurt herself,” I say confidently, trying to keep the smile from my lips as Belle slides down the downpipe with ease and lands on her feet.

“How long are you going to let her believe she actually has a chance of escaping?” Lars asks.

“She doesn’t believe she’s going to escape,” I say fighting the warmth spreading through my chest. “This is her trying to prove a point.”

“Oh yeah, what point is that?” Bram asks.

“That despite whatever I throw at her, she is no pushover.”

Lars smirks. “I just fell in love with her a little bit more.”

I hand him the bag of fake phantasia. “Get this to Opie. I’ve got an old lady to wrangle.”

He laughs. “Good luck, brother. I think you just met your match.”

CHAPTER 13

BELLE

I jumpfrom the drainpipe and land evenly on the grass, but the touchdown vibrates through my feet and up my legs, rattling the base of my spine. But I’m okay.

It was a risky move, but I couldn’t stand being locked up a moment more. And if Beast thinks I’m going to wait around to be forced into marriage then he’s about to be sorely disappointed. I might not make it out of here, but at least I’m trying. And Beast will get the point. I won’t go down without a fight.

One drainpipe down. One brick wall and security door to go.

Since I’ve been taken prisoner and held like Rapunzel in my room above the castle grounds, I’ve been taking note of my surroundings. The Knights aren’t amateurs when it comes to security. There are guards and high walls and security cameras everywhere.

Before shimmying down the pipe, I’d sat on the window and scoped my surroundings, watching the bikers and club girlscoming and going through one of the gates just in view from my vantage point on the window ledge. It’s unlocked but probably has a guard on the other side.

I glance around, noting the cameras on the high walls surrounding the clubhouse. In every direction.

Knowing I’m being watched, I make a break across the vast grassy lawn toward one of the doors. It unlocks, and I fling open the door and run straight into a mountain of muscle and grumpiness.

It’s like running into a wall of rock.

I bounce off him and fall to the ground, grazing my palms.

I stare up at the tower of muscle standing over me.

“Is that out of your system?” he asks, offering me his hand.

I ignore it and climb to my feet unassisted. I don’t need this psycho giant’s help to stand on my feet.

“If you’re asking if I am tired of fighting you, then the answer is no,” I say, wiping the dirt off my palms.

“Then you are forcing my hand.”

“To do what?”

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