Beast (MC Fables #1)

Chapter 46

CHAPTER 46

B ELLE

“You look like a woman in love,” Mya says happily as she twists plaits into my hair. She’s going for the shieldmaiden look for tonight’s Sunday dinner. “And before you tell me that it is just an act, you need to know I am very good at calling bullshit.”

She’s perched on her bed while I sit on the floor, staring dreamily out the window. Inside, I’m giddy, and I have been all day. I think I’m falling in love with Beast.

Which is a surprise. Because of the whole forcing me to marry him business.

But it’s not just that. My ex-boyfriend did a real number on me. He lied to me for the entirety of our relationship, and because of it, I erected a wall around my heart. A wall I didn’t think anyone could knock down.

But that was before I met Beast.

I can trust him.

Because it feels like I’ve known him my whole life.

“I don’t know what to call it,” I say, twisting my head to look at her. “But I really like him, Mya. I think I’m falling for him.”

She squeals. “I knew it. You two are so perfect for each other.”

She gives me a warm smile before making me turn back so she can keep weaving the gold through my hair.

“Now that he’s not such a grump,” I say, picking up the hairbrush and running my palm absentmindedly across the bristles.

Mya chuckles. “He was definitely grumpy when you first came to the clubhouse. But I suppose that’s to be expected since he’d just thrown his brother out of the club.”

I turn to look at her. “Beast has a brother?”

Mya’s brow crinkles with confusion. “Yes, of course.”

“Why did he throw his brother out of the club?”

She looks even more confused. “Because he attacked you and your uncle.”

A cold dread trickles down my spine, and I go very still.

My voice shakes. “What do you mean?”

Mya frowns. “He threw Gaston out of the club for what he did to you.”

My brain flounders through the sudden onset of emotion and tries to process what she is saying. “Gaston is Beast’s brother?”

Mya looks confused. “You didn’t know?”

“No, he never told me.”

“Probably because he’s a Nameless Man now.”

“A what?”

“A Nameless Man. It’s how they refer to men who betray the club or have been thrown out for whatever reason. Their names are not to be mentioned in the clubhouse again.”

“But he should have mentioned it to me,” I say, my emotions rising.

Because this is it. This is the secret he was keeping from me. The bomb to rock the foundations of what we were building.

I try to rationalize him withholding this from me. He was trying to protect me from the truth. But he wasn’t protecting me, he was protecting himself by keeping it from me.

In essence he lied.

I will never lie to you, little one.

Which was just a big fat lie in itself.

I stand up so quick Mya has to lean back.

“Where is he?”

“Gaston?”

“No, Beast.”

“It’s lunchtime, so probably in Church. But you won’t want to disrupt them while they’re in Church,” she calls out.

But I’m already burning rubber along the corridor leading to the sweeping staircase. My entire body is tight with pain and anger and... hurt.

The man who almost killed my uncle and who was moments away from raping me is the brother of the man who forced me to marry him.

Breathe, Belle.

But I can’t. My emotions tumble inside me like a tornado, churning up the fear I felt when Gaston dragged me into that kitchen and I saw what he’d done to Uncle Maurice. And they keep churning and tumbling, until I’m bent over that table again with Gaston’s hands all over my body and I know he's about to rape me.

Blinded by the emotion, I storm outside of the clubhouse and across the garden.

There are two prospects standing guard at the door when I get to the chapel. One tries to stop me from entering, but I’m a burning ball of fiery anger. “Get out of my way, or so help me God, I will find a way into this building that is far more violent than walking in through the front door.”

My tone leaves no doubt that I mean it, and when they both step aside I stomp up the steps and rip open the door.

Fourteen faces all swing around to look in my direction and a blast of leather and testosterone fills my senses. Beast is sitting at the end of a long wooden table but doesn’t react.

Until I throw the hairbrush that is still in my hand at him. It just misses his head and hits the wall behind him. “You asshole.”

Darkness sweeps through his expression. I don’t know for sure, but I’m probably breaking the sanctity of Church by doing this. But I don’t give a damn.

Fuck this club and their rules.

And fuck Beast to hell.

“Gaston is your brother?”

Beast is calm but the look on his face tells me I have crossed a line and there will be trouble.

He rises slowly from his place at the head of the table, looking more like a demon rising from hell than a man.

His expression darkens and a shiver rolls down my spine.

But I don’t give a damn.

I’m not afraid.

He should be afraid.

Because I have something to say and he’s not going to like it.

“Everybody out,” he barks with a thunderclap.

The men are slow to move but obey their leader.

While the room empties, Beast’s gaze burns through the distance between us and I feel the sting of his anger on my skin. “You…sit the fuck down.”

But I ignore him.

He doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore.

I’m going to leave and take my uncle with me. Goddamn him to hell for this.

I’m married to a man who shares DNA with the very demon who tried raping me and almost killed my uncle.

And. He. Never. Told. Me.

“Stop ordering me about?—”

In an explosive move, he upends the table to get my attention, then charges toward me. I back up until my legs hit the back of a chair. “I said, sit the fuck down.”

I look at the overturned table. It must weigh a ton and he just flipped it like it weighed nothing.

But I’m too angry to care. “I said no.”

His gaze is thunderous. “Why do you need to make it so fucking hard on me whenever I ask you to do something?”

“How could you force me to marry you? The brother of the man who broke into my home, almost killed my uncle and bent me over the kitchen table. He was about to rape me. It was the most frightening thing that has ever happened to me. The vilest act—you saw what he did.”

“Yes, and I stopped him from doing it.”

“But then you forced me to marry you. The brother to— him .”

“I am nothing like my brother,” he growls.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were related?”

“Because the moment he did those things to you, he was no longer a part of my family. I banished him. Stripped him of his cut. That is the biggest and worst consequence to a Knight. He lost his club. He lost his family. He lost everything for what he did to you.”

My heart pounds against my breast and my pulse races through the vein in my neck.

Beast takes a step toward me, but I take a step back. “Don't you come near me!”

My words are like a brick wall and he comes to a sudden stop.

I’m shaking. “You lied to me.”

“I never lied to you.”

“Omission is like lying. You should have told me.”

“Perhaps I should have. But he is gone and no longer a threat to you.”

“So why didn't you?” I cry.

He takes a step closer, blocking out the sun. “Because it should have been inconsequential. His name is not to be spoken by anyone in this clubhouse. He is a Nameless Man.”

“Not to me,” I yell. “To me he will always be Gaston. The man who put his hands on me. The man who put my uncle in hospital.”

Images of that night rattle me even further, and I can barely contain the emotions coursing through me. They tumble through me violently.

I take slow steps backward and point a finger at Beast. “We’re done. Do you hear me? I don’t want any of this. Least of all you.”

The dark cloud on his face ripples with an emotion I can’t put my finger on. But it’s gone in seconds, replaced by a tight jaw, narrowed eyes, and flaring nostrils. He’s gritting his teeth.

“You don’t have much choice about the matter,” he says in a low, dangerous voice that is full of menace and causes goosebumps to spread across my skin.

But I’m done with being a scared little mouse. “Stay away from me.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Just watch me.”

“You promised you wouldn’t leave.”

“And you promised you wouldn’t lie.”

Shaking, I flee the chapel, and once I’m inside the clubhouse, I tear up the staircase and along the hallway to our bedroom. There, I slam the door behind me and lock it.

By now the entire clubhouse will know what is happening. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about any of them or what they think.

Blinded by my emotions, I hold onto one thought as I pack my belongings and shove them into a plastic bag. I need to pick up Uncle Maurice and get the hell away from these people.

To my surprise, no one tries to stop me from leaving. In fact, one of the prospects is waiting for me at the base of the grand staircase when I leave.

“Beast told me to take you wherever you want to go.”

My stomach tightens. Beast is letting me go? It should be a relief, but it’s not relief I feel in my chest.

“Good,” I say, ignoring whatever the stupid emotion is.

Outside, I follow the prospect to the truck parked on the driveway.

“We’re not taking your bike?” I ask.

The prospect raises an eyebrow as he opens the driver’s door. “Darlin, if I put you on the back of my bike I’d need to look for a new club. Not that I’d be able to walk. Or breathe.”

“You mean he’d hurt you for letting me ride on the back of your bike? That seems a bit over the top.”

“You’re our first lady, Belle, the only bike you belong on is our president’s.”

I frown, regret already churning in my stomach. “I’m not anyone’s first lady. Not really.”

He doesn’t reply. Just gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t believe me, then climbs inside the truck and closes the door.

After I slide into the passenger side, we take off toward town.

The prospect is nice. He’s always been kind and friendly to me during my time at the clubhouse. Nowhere near as scary as his president.

“I don’t even know your name,” I say as he pulls the truck to a stop out the front of the mansion where my uncle is recuperating.

“It’s Colby, ma’am.”

I force a smile. Because inside, my anger is slowly morphing into a deep, heavy sadness.

“Thanks for the ride, Colby.”

“Take care, Belle.”

He gives me a two finger salute before he drives away, leaving me standing outside the old mansion.

My heart is heavy as I climb the stairs and knock on the door.

When it opens, Annie greets me with the same warmth as the other times I have visited and takes me to my uncle.

To my relief, he’s awake. In fact he’s out of bed and looking so much better.

He’s outside on the wide stone patio, sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket over his lap and a bag of apple cherries in his hands. It’s an overcast day and cold. And in the distance on the horizon, storm clouds gather, bruising the sky in purple and gray.

His face lights up when he sees me. “Belle, what a lovely surprise.”

“Hi, Uncle Maurice. How are you feeling today?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy.” He has a big smile on his face. His bruising has faded and he no longer needs bandages around his head wounds. “What are you doing here?”

I sit opposite him on a garden bench and take his hand in mine. “I’ve missed you,” I say, pleased that he looks so healthy and happy. “I just wanted check on you, make sure you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am,” he says with another big smile. “What about you? You’re happy, aren’t you, Belle? Beast is a good man. He tells me how well you are doing whenever he visits.”

I frown. “He visits?”

“All the time.” He holds up the bag of apple cherries. “Always brings me a bag.”

Ah, that’s why he picks apple cherries.

My stomach twists. There is no need for Beast to visit my uncle but he does.

What is important to you is important to me.

A knot forms in my chest. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.

“I spoke to the nurse. She says they’re ready to move you from the hospital and into one of the studio rooms. Is that what you want to do?” I ask, already knowing the answer. This place is special and my uncle has never looked so well.

Uncle Maurice looks at me, and for a moment it’s like he is fully there. He hasn’t looked at me that way in a long time and my heart aches. It’s like all of him has returned, and I realize how much I’ve missed him.

“You don’t need to worry about me anymore, Belle. It’s your time now. I’m happy here. You need to find your happy.”

Gaston breaks into my thoughts and my stomach curls.

But then I think about Beast. About the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his arms when he holds me. I think about the tenderness in his eyes and how he can be gruff and impatient with everyone around him but then be tender and attentive to me in the next breath. I know what my happy looks like. And it’s with a man with hair like a lion’s mane and a body like a tank, who drives me crazy with his grumpiness but also drives me wild with his affection.

“ Have you found your happy?” Uncle Maurice asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I think I have.”

Uncle Maurice’s smile is warm, his eyes focused, fully present in the moment. Yet it’s bittersweet because I know it won’t last.

“Then that makes me happy.”

The look we share is warm and heartfelt. A tear slides down my cheek.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere new. Just the two of us?” I ask him.

“You mean away from here?”

“Yeah, just the two of us?—”

Like last time.

Except last time was a disaster and it almost got him killed. I look around us at the beautiful old mansion and the vast green fields. I can’t offer him anything as good as this.

“You know, Beast offered for me to come live at the castle,” he says. Again, something else I didn’t know. “But I told him I like it here. You know, they serve cinnamon buns for morning tea?”

“I didn’t know that,” I whisper.

“Mrs. Blumfield makes them herself. She’s the cook. Best damn cook in my book. I think she also makes certain I get the ones with the most icing too. She knows I like the icing. You remember how much I like the icing, don’t you Belle?”

“I do,” I reply with a soft smile.

“And Mrs. Blumfield makes the best berry tea I’ve ever had. It’s quite delicious.”

“Mrs. Blumfield sounds quite remarkable.”

“Oh, yes, she’s a fine woman,” he says popping another apple cherry into his mouth.

A sudden bluster of wind ripples past us, almost blowing his blanket off his knees. It stirs in the trees in the woods below, turning their branches into swaying arms.

The storm has moved closer. Fat rain drops begin to fall. Slow at first. Warning us of the coming downpour.

“Come on, let me help you back inside,” I say, releasing the brakes on his wheelchair.

But Uncle Maurice stops me when he reaches for my wrist. Again, his eyes are focused and he is fully present.

“I’m proud of you, Belle. You really are the sweetest.”

Fighting off my tears, I wheel him back inside and out of the weather.