Page 23 of Ruthless Beasts

“I’m sorry I asked.” Adam shook his head. “Forget it.”

Only now that he said it, now that the option was voiced, it was all that my mind wanted to think about. I didn’t think I wanted the girl, but there was something deep down inside of me that wondered what it would be like if we shared. What rules would we break? What bonds would we forge? Would it ruin us all in the end?

CHAPTER NINE

ADAM

The buzz coming from my desk drawer had become increasingly distracting. I wasn’t sure why I preferred this form of self-torture. I could just turn her damn cell phone off. But I was curious. I wanted to know about the girl I called my wife. I wanted to know everything about her. I reached into the drawer, pulling out the cellphone.

Hannah: Where are you?

Hannah: Seriously, babe, I’m getting freaked out.

Hannah: I’m about ready to call the police.

Hannah: How have you not been reported missing?

Hannah: Do you think the FBI can help?

For fuck's sake, Hannah needed to get herself under control. It’d been two weeks, not a year. I held the box with my wife’s new phone in my hand. The only numbers programmed in there were mine, Ace’s, Mercer’s, and that insanely annoying pain in the ass, Hannah. I told myself I was doing myself a favor, and not because I felt like Belle needed a friend. I should probablyprogram her guards’ numbers in there too, but a part of me didn’t want her to call anyone else for help.

It was odd to me though how few messages she received from anyone other than Hannah. No messages from her friends, none from her family, and most interesting, not a single one from her father. Of course, I assumed he knew I’d take her phone. How stupid would I be not to? But shit, did people care about her at all?

I turned the phone over, about to slide it into a drawer, when it rang. I stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then I answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Amanda from Dr. Stevens’s office. I’m looking for Bellamy Crusiaux.”

I cleared my throat. “Ferrari. This is her husband.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of the change, but I’ll note it in her chart. Is she around?” The woman was too fucking cheerful for my liking.

“She’s unable to get to the phone right now. May I take a message?”

“Oh yes. Of course.” Clicking on a keyboard let me know Amanda was multitasking. “I was just calling to remind her of her appointment tomorrow.”

“Appointment?”

“Yes.” She paused. “It appears to be her twelve-week checkup. Do you need instructions on how to get to the obstetrician and gynecology department?”

My heart sped up. My fingers grew clammy. My voice was raspy when I replied, “I think we’ll find it.”

“Great. We look forward to seeing her at ten AM, and congratulations.”

The phone clicked when she hung up, but I held Belle’s cell phone in my hand, midair for longer than necessary as my mindtried to catch up with the information provided to me. It could just be an appointment, right? Maybe it’s been twelve weeks since she started taking birth control, anticipating her union, and it was a follow up. But to congratulate me?

I felt numb when I placed the phone in the drawer. Out of all the troubles I expected with my new wife, this was never one of them. The reality made me raw, made my already precarious emotions dance to the surface. I was an expert at hiding my feelings, but I doubted there was a way to hide the way this made me feel. I swallowed back any emotion I felt and stood, taking the box with Belle’s new phone. Walking down the hall of the west wing, I refused to look at the walls. Refused to look at the photos that lined the walkway. And I absolutely refused to look into the accusing eyes of my late wife as I walked to my new wife, replacing the family I lost.

I stopped at Belle’s door, dismissing Drew, who was leaning against the wall, watching the paint peel. He did not need to be here. It was almost dusk. Mercer and Ace would be home soon, bringing Belle burgers, which she didn’t ask for but had mentioned to Max how good they sounded.

Made complete sense now.

I knocked on her door and waited. Soft footsteps approached, and I held my breath until she pulled open the door. A gasp left her, like she was shocked I would come to her room. Had I really been that distant?

“Dinner will be here soon,” I offered.

“No one’s cooking?” Her head tilted to the side.

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