Page 17 of Beast
“It’s him,” she whispered.
Beast nodded once.“I sent him on his way.With a warning.”
“But he’ll be back,” she said.“He’s not afraid of warnings.He’ll come with more.”
“I know.”
Pixie looked up at him, her voice cracking.“I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to bring this here.I didn’t mean to endanger anyone.”
Beast’s expression shifted, hardening—not with anger, but with something stronger.Protective.Dangerous.
“You didn’t bring this,” he said.“He did.And if he comes back, he’ll deal with me.”
Pixie blinked fast, fighting the burn behind her eyes.“You can’t keep watch over me forever.”
“Watch me try,” Beast said.
Her lips trembled, and she turned away, trying to hide the fear clawing its way up her throat.The dread.The helplessness she hated more than anything.
“I hate this,” she whispered.“Hiding.Running.Feeling like prey.”
“You’re not prey,” Beast said quietly.He stepped closer, his warmth chasing away the cold sinking into her bones.“Not anymore.Not here.”
She nodded but didn’t speak.Just leaned into the familiar scent of leather and smoke and something that was just him.And when his arms came around her, strong and unyielding, she let him hold her for a long moment.
****
Pixie stepped backfrom Beast’s warm embrace, the place that, just moments ago, felt safer than anywhere she’d been in years.Her body ached to stay in that cocoon of comfort, but her mind—her fear—was louder.
“I should get back to work,” she said softly, her voice steadier than she felt.
Beast’s gaze held her in place for a moment longer, unreadable and intense.The kind of look that made her legs weak and her heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.Then, slowly, he nodded.
“All right,” he murmured.“But we’re not done.”
Pixie forced a small smile and turned away before he could see the guilt on her face.
As she moved through the clubhouse, tray in hand and smile pinned in place, everything felt off.Her body moved out of habit—taking orders, delivering drinks, brushing off the occasional flirt with a clipped retort—but her thoughts spun like a storm.
Beast had promised to protect her.But what would it cost him?What would it cost the Sentinels?Every time she got close to someone, they paid for it.Brad wouldn’t stop until she was gone or dead.
By the time her shift ended, her decision was made.Pixie didn’t say goodbye.She just slipped out the back door, jacket clutched tightly around her, and headed to the small apartment she rented in town.The walk was long, cold, and lonely, but she didn’t mind.In fact, she welcomed it.Maybe the distance would make leaving easier.It didn’t.
Inside, the apartment looked more like a temporary stop than a home.A backpack sat in the corner, mostly still packed from the last time she ran.A duffel bag lay folded beneath the bed.
Pixie moved on autopilot as she gathered her things—clothes, the little cash she had, an old photo of her brother she kept hidden in a book.Her heart grew heavier with each item she packed.
This wasn’t like the last few times.Those times she’d run from places, people, cities that didn’t care whether she lived or died.This time, she was leaving something behind that mattered.Someone.Beast.
Her chest squeezed painfully as she zipped up her bag and stared at the bare room.She hadn’t even hung anything on the walls.Never expected to stay long enough.And yet, she’d dared to hope.
Pixie walked to the bus station under the weight of that hope, crushed and hollow.She bought a ticket to anywhere with shaking hands, the woman behind the counter barely sparing her a glance.
She sat on the cold bench under flickering lights, staring at the glowing clock overhead.Ten minutes.Ten minutes and she’d disappear again.Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag as her throat tightened.She didn’t cry.She’d done enough of that in the past.She just sat there.Alone.Pretending it didn’t hurt.
But the lie cracked the moment she heard the roar of a motorcycle outside.Her heart stuttered.She didn’t have to look to know it was him.
The doors to the station slammed open, and Beast strode inside like a storm in motion—tall, furious, and laser-focused.
