Page 3 of Beast
She spun in a slow circle, searching for any sign of civilization, any hint that she wasn’t stranded in the middle of nowhere.Then ...there.A wooden sign, barely visible in the dark, its letters worn and weathered: STEELEHAVEN—3 MILES
Three miles.Her muscles already ached at the thought.The bag slung over her shoulder felt heavier than before, pulling at her like a lead weight.She was running on fumes, the hunger in her stomach a dull ache she’d long since learned to ignore.
But she couldn’t stay here.Pixie hitched her bag higher and started walking.The road stretched endlessly before her, each step dragging more than the last.
The night was eerily silent, broken only by the sound of her sneakers scuffing against the pavement.Her breath came in short bursts, her limbs sluggish, exhaustion seeping into every inch of her body.At some point, the steady rhythm of walking turned into a blur, time losing all meaning.Her vision swam, and she swore the road was stretching longer with every step.
Then ...finally ...something up ahead.
She squinted, hope flickering to life as the vague outline of buildings took shape against the darkness.
Warehouses.They looked old, abandoned, forgotten.There were no cars, no lights, no signs of life.Relief flooded her.She’d slept in worse places before.This would do for the night.
Her legs nearly buckled as she trudged toward the nearest warehouse, dragging her bag behind her like dead weight.The metal door creaked as she slipped inside, the space vast and echoing.
Moonlight filtered through broken windows, casting long shadows over stacks of crates.Some looked old, but others were brand new, untouched.That should have set off alarm bells.But her brain was too fogged, her limbs too heavy.She barely managed to lay her bag down, using it as a makeshift pillow as she curled up on the cold concrete.
Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to do next.For now, she just needed to rest.
Her eyes drifted shut, even as something in the back of her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she thought.
Chapter Two
Beast was in a foulmood.The kind that made men wary, silenced laughter in the clubhouse, and turned casual glances into careful avoidance.
No one said anything about it.Not outright.They all knew what today was.Five years.Five goddamn years since Evelyn.Since the accident.Since the phone call that had gutted him like a dull knife to the ribs.Some wounds healed.Others festered beneath the surface, turning into something dark and poisonous.
His had festered.He barely heard the details of the meeting with the allied MC.He was there, but only in body.His mind was stuck in the past, in the ghost of a touch that no longer existed, in the sound of a laugh that time had stolen from him.
Gunner, his VP, wasn’t fooled.The bastard had been watching him all day with a sharp, knowing look.By the time the meeting wrapped up, Gunner fell into step beside him, his tone casual but pointed.
“You’re wound tight,” Gunner remarked.
Beast let out a slow breath, lighting a cigarette.“No shit.”
“Maybe you oughta find a way to let off some steam,” Gunner suggested.
