Page 8 of Beast

“I will come see y-you l-later,” Maurice stammers, unable to meet his eyes, or mine.

Fear curdles in my gut. I don’t know who this Gaston person is, but he’s making my uncle nervous. He doesn’t know where to look or what to do with his hands. He tries to step around the man with the hollow cheeks but Gaston puts his hand into his chest to stop him.

“Not so quick, old man.”

“What do you want?” I demand, not liking this situation one little bit. My instinct is screaming at me to get us away from this man and his scary friends.

Gaston slowly turns his head, his expression full of menace as those dead eyes roll over my face. “And who might you be, pretty lady?”

I feel my uncle tense beside me.

“Now, s-she’s no c-concern of…of…of yours,” he says. “I’m w-who you want to t-talk to. She has nothing…nothing to do with this.”

Gaston throws him a dark scowl before bringing his attention back to me. He takes an intimidating step closer, but I stand my ground because I refuse to be intimidated by these thugs.

I lift my chin. “Leave us alone.”

Gaston looks amused. He glances over at the two men with him and the three of them start to chuckle. But when he pulls his gaze back to me, the smile fades on his cruel, thin lips. “And who the fuck do we have here?”

“Not that it’s any concern of yours, but I’m his niece,” I say with more bravery than I have.

“Well, well, Maurice, you never told me you had such a spectacular-looking niece.”

I shift uncomfortably on my feet as his eyes unpeel layers of my clothing. He licks his lips like he wants to eat what he sees.

He takes a step into my personal space, and I freeze. He curls a lock of my blonde hair around his finger. I swat it away, but he grabs my chin, and an evil snarl turns his face from ugly to terrifying. “Listen to me, you little whore?—"

“Let the girl go.” A dark voice cracks into the cold night like a thunderclap. It comes from nowhere. A deep, masculine voice. One that commands total submission.

An exhilarating thrill zips through me.

“I said, let her go,” the voice demands again, this time with more thunder and warning.

Gaston releases his grip on my chin and turns to look over his shoulder. By the look on his face, he already knows who he isgoing to see before the giant steps out of the shadow and into the light of the street, and?—

Oh. My. God.

A soft gasp escapes past my parted lips as I take in the ginormous man appearing in front of me.

He’s easily seven foot something with broad shoulders and a powerful body that could only be cut from slabs of muscle. Hair like a lion’s mane falls past a face cast in shadow. But I can make out the strong jaw and high cheekbones, and the slight cleft in his chin. It’s not until he moves further into the light that I see the twist of scars cut into his face.

I can’t see his eyes because they’re cast in shadow, but I can feel his gaze. He’s looking right at me.

I struggle to swallow. This man is not just a man. He is something so much more.

“This is none of your concern,” Gaston says with warning in his tone. “You need to stay out of my affairs.”

“What you do in this town and who you do it withismy concern. Especially if youraffairsinvolve you putting your hands on a defenseless old man and a woman.” There is something in the giant’s deep rumbling voice that makes my body vibrate with an energy I’ve never felt before. It’s like Gaston and his men have disappeared, and I’m seeing something that could only exist in my dreams.

My gaze travels down his massive body. He wears black jeans and the largest pair of motorcycle boots I’ve ever seen. Beneath his open jacket he wears a leather vest over a dark T-shirt. He’s a biker. A giant one.

“Mind your own business, Beast,” Gaston warns.

Beast. The name suits him.

“I won’t say it again,” Beast growls. “Let them pass.”

“Or what?”

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