Page 17 of The Beast

I don’t reply because I’m not sure my voice is capable of functioning at the moment. Instead, I gesture to the other side of the booth. My attention is focused on Preacher as he slides into the booth. He watches me closely assessing everything. I feel stripped naked, bared to his gaze. I do have to admit, though, I don’t mind being the sole focus of his attention.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” his voice is low and gravelly. “Are you visiting someone?”

“It started out as a visit,” I reply. “But it may become something more permanent.”

“That’s good,” he says and nods. “Perhaps we can get better acquainted while you’re here.”

Taking a drink from my beer I take my turn to assess him. His gaze follows the bottle to my lips. His gaze feels like a caress. This man will definitely leave his mark on a girl. The moment between us is broken when Hadley squeals loudly. My gaze drifts from Preacher to the stage to see Wolf has his wife thrown over his shoulder as he stomps out.

Mad Dog and Pope are also here smiling up at their women. My heart fills with longing when Kaiya jumps from the stage into Mad Dog’s waiting arms. I wish I could find something like that. Someone who wanted me for me and accepted me as I am.

But that isn’t in the cards. I’ll probably end up old and alone surrounded by ten cats or something.

“Are you okay?” Preacher asks as he takes my hand in his. His dark gaze shows nothing but concern.

Before I can answer, Storm sashays over to us dragging Pope behind her. She grabs her drink off the table and downs it in one go. “Time to head out.” She smiles at me.

I nod and move to rise but Preacher squeezes my hand. “I’ll get her back.” He doesn’t look at them but continues to stare at me. Again, I feel that tingle run down my spine.

“You sure, Irene?” Pope asks as he tucks Storm under his arm and pulls her against his side.

I have been here for three weeks, and I don’t know a single person outside the club. I need to expand my boundaries. The Gypsy Bastards have become a safety blanket for me, and I need to step out of that safe space.

“I’ll be fine.” I smile at both of them. “Besides, Preacher doesn’t seem like the type to strangle me, chop me up, and put me in the freezer.”

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of,” Preacher mumbles.

Pope glares at him before nodding. “Don’t let anything happen to her.” The threat in his voice is clear as he and Storm walk out of the club.

Preacher glares at their backs until the door is closed behind them before returning his attention to me. “Breakfast?”

A laugh escapes me as I nod in agreement. After the change in his demeanor, this seems like a much safer topic. Although it is killing me not to ask what the hell that was about.

Preacher helps me out of the booth before we head outside. He leads me to a sleek, black sports car before holding the door open for me. We drive in silence for a couple of blocks before he pulls over at an all-night diner. From the way he’s dressed, I never would have expected to find him eating at a place like this, but I don’t argue. With the amount of alcohol swimming in my veins, something greasy is exactly what I need.

Preacher helps me out of the car and leads me inside to a booth at the end of the building, his hand firmly on the small of my back. A waitress walks over and hands us menus. She stares at Preacher, and it starts to piss me off. He is a fine-ass man but that isn’t what has drawn her attention. No, she is stuck on the scars that mar half his features. I may not have said anything if I was sober but I’m not, and I feel strangely protective of this man I only just met.

“If you take a picture, it will last longer,” I snark.

Both their gazes flash to me. Preacher seems amused while the waitress seems mortified.

“It’s rude to stare.” I lift an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” the waitress sputters before taking a deep breath to compose herself. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee,” both Preacher and I say in unison.

As the waitress scurries off, Preacher and I stare at each other before he chuckles deeply. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” I blurt out.

“That’s perfect,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want sex. I can get that anywhere.”

If we can keep this to friendship only, I know there will never be a dull moment with Preacher in my life.

Chapter Thirteen

Fuck You, Preacher

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