It’s tentative, but the gesture is there.
I take it, but not just for physical stability.
“What do we do?” I ask, pausing after we enter the waiting area to look up at him. Beast is already rising from his chair and making his way over to us. His eyes never stop scanning the room. He’s extra alert tonight, more so than I’ve ever seen him. I imagine his perceived failure at the reception is going to haunt him for a good while.
But he is the one who once told me that the four of them might not always be at my side, but that I’d always be in danger. That statement proved to be truer than either of us even knew. If Beast hadn’t taken the time to teach me what he did, I might already be dead.
A shiver runs down my spine.
I was willing to face death head-on, but that didn’t mean I was ready for it. I’m just getting started here. I’m just now figuring out mysteries that have eluded me for years: the facts about Kian and Queenie’s relationship, the events that led to my sisters’ deaths, the feelings and motivations of these four men.
It isn’t time; I’m not fucking ready.
Death can kiss my ass.
“For now, you’re going to focus on getting better.” Crown reaches up, running his knuckles along the side of my swollen jaw. “If I think Cat—or the club itself—is a danger to you in any way, I’m moving you somewhere else.”
I can’t argue with that, so I just nod.
My eyes flick back to the doors that lead to the hallway where Sin’s room is.
“They’ll be safe in here?” I ask, and Crown follows my gaze. He seems to think about that question for a moment which I appreciate. I can’t stand the thought of hearing lies, especially not today. Tonight? Jesus, what fucking time is it? I don’t even know anymore. It’s dark outside, but that doesn’t mean it’s night. Could just as easily be early morning.
“As safe as I can make it. Go home. I’ll stay.” Crown releases my arm as Beast steps up beside us. The VP passes over a key fob to his enforcer. “Take her home in the Escalade; I’ll bring your bike home safe.”
Mm. Motorcycles are sacred in club culture. Beast letting Crown ride his bike is sort of like … Beast letting Crown ride his wife. It’s a meaningful extension of trust.
Beast accepts the key, leading me away from Crown and toward the exit. I glance back one last time, but his green gaze is still on me, watching and waiting.
What for, exactly, I’m not sure.
But I hope he doesn’t wait much longer.
Sin was right: if we’d died today (yesterday?) then at least we both would’ve known the truth.
I want that; I deserve that. And so does Crown.
I head outside, climb into the SUV, and allow Beast to take me back to the compound—and the farmhouse.
My fucking farmhouse.
If I could, I’d sleep for a week. As things stand, I have Grey to deal with.
“Good morning,” he says when I finally drag myself out of bed next. It’s dark outside—again. I deign to check the time on my phone, blinking my eyes at the bright screen. Nine-thirty. It’s night. The day after the wedding.
I look back up at Grey before slumping into the chair across from him. Beast is there, too, but he’s giving me enough space that I can at least pretend this conversation with my dear old friend is private. Not that I need privacy from Beast anyway. I turn back to my husband, but he’s pretending to care about the food situation—or lack thereof—by opening and staring into the refrigerator.
I get this strange, little thrill at the idea of seeing these four men in more everyday type situations.
Men, not monsters.
All of this time, I’ve been thinking of them like demons, like monsters who ride chrome stallions into battle, who serve the devil and his wicked deeds. Inhuman creatures prowling the streets and stealing my heart and soul and body like thieves in the night.
Only … they’re people. Actual human people. And I’m married to one of them.
They have basic needs—besides fucking—and habits, curiosities, and idiosyncrasies. My mind is quite literally blown at such a basic idea.
Like, do they wear socks when they sleep? Do they even wear pajamas? Are they morning or evening shower people? Both? Neither? Maybe they’re bath people? Maybe Sin cuts the crust off his toast? Maybe Grainger likes ice cubes in his orange juice?
Grainger …
I exhale and glance back at Beast. First thing I asked him when I woke up was if the two of them were still okay. They are. I can’t quite believe it, to be honest. It’d make more sense if they were both dead, based on the way my life usually goes.
