Page 70 of The Beast's Heart

Please don’t be sad, mon cher. All the great musicians die at 27, don’t you know?

I know this will be hard for you, but don’t think of me as gone, think of me visiting Paris on tour. This will be difficult, but it won’t destroy you the way the illness would. I know you, I know there’s no way you could continue to build your career while I was sick and helpless here in the Highlands. That’s not who you are. You’ve fought so hard for what you have. I won’t be the one to take it from you.

And you know me. You know I’ve never liked anyone or anything telling me what to do. That includes this dratted body of mine.

When you think of me, think of those nights in New York, think of Zanzibar and Montreal, think of Paris. Don’t think of this. I’d rather be remembered for whatI created than for what I became. Warhol said that, I believe.

The only thing certain in life is change. This isn’t an ending. It’s just another change. I love you. Now and always.

I hang my head and let the tears fall.

It’s several long minutes before I pull myself together. As always, my temper burned like a wildfire, sweeping across my senses, leaving only ashes. I feel raw and empty, and while the only thing I want to do is crawl into bed, I know I can’t leave this thing with Belle unresolved.

I haul myself to my feet, pull on some clothes and splash cold water on my face.Real men don’t cry,my old man’s voice echoes in my mind as I avoid looking at myself in the mirror over the basin.

I go past the control room first. Belle isn’t on any of the cameras. The children are happily playing CraftWar, Lily-Iris is doing laundry, Ray is at the kitchen table writing a letter. Belle must be in his room.

I rap gently on the door. “Belle, it’s me. Can we talk?”

No response. Not surprising. I swallow past the lump still in my throat. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Please may I come in?”

Nothing.

I rest my forehead against the door. There’s no sound from beyond, just the low wail of the storm outside. “I understand if you feel safer with a door between us. The truth is… you seem too good to be true, Belle. And it made so much sense that youwere a plant. You must think me the most paranoid psychopath. You must believe everything you said about me, aboutAdam, was wrong. That I’m a Beast after all. I am. I admit that fully. You saw it for yourself last night, even when I try to do good, I cause pain. It’s just who I am. But I don’t want to be… I don’t want to be that. Especially not with you, Belle. Jonathan. Please… just let me know you’re okay.”

Nothing.

“Belle?”

My heart rate starts to climb again. Maybe he’s ignoring me. But maybe he’s not.

“Belle? Belle I’m going to come in. If you don’t want me to come in, say something.”

I twist the handle and push the door open. The room is empty, but the cupboard doors are flung open and all Belle’s clothes are missing.

Through the tall windows I can clearly see the raging storm.

I fly downstairs, taking them two at a time, skidding as I hit the entrance hall, no doubt leaving scuff marks that Lily-Iris will scold me for. I grab my jacket, my scarf and my gloves, fumbling as I put them on.Jonathan’s coat isn’t here.

Ray comes rushing out of the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

“I think Belle’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“I lost my temper.”

Ray’s eyes go large. “You didn’t go full Beast on that darling man?”

I can’t answer. As usual, Ray takes what they need from my expression.

“Oh honey, no. The man’s head over heels for you. You can’t go doing that to him.” They grab their own jacket and gloves.

Head over heels?I can’t afford to think of that now. All that matters is getting Jonathan to safety.

“You’re sure he went out? In this?” Ray asks.

“He’s not on the cameras. His closet’s empty.”

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