Beast: Savages and Saints

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Beast: Savages and Saints Page 6

by Seabrook, C. M.


  He may be my last shot at getting a real fight.

  Plus I need this right now - the adrenaline rush. Something to take my mind off the fact that I haven’t had a drink in almost two weeks, and that I’ve been walking around with a goddamn hard-on since I’ve moved into London’s apartment.

  I see an opening in Moody’s stance, and I take the opportunity to move in, clipping his chin with an uppercut.

  He grunts and spits out blood. “Better.”

  “You two almost done messing around?” Theo James leans against the cage. “We’ve got some papers to go over.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s enough for today.” Moody picks up a water bottle and tosses it to me, grinning. “You ready to sign your life over?”

  More than ready. But there’s also this pressure at the back of my skull like this whole deal is too good to be true. But as I scribble my signature at the bottom of the contracts that will lock me into a two-year deal with these two, I know it’s better than my other options.

  “You know this means no more shady shit,” Theo says, shoving another form at me to sign. “We get even a sniff of anything illegal going on here and the contract is void.”

  “Yeah. Got it.”

  The two men aren’t much older than me, but not only do they both hold championship belts, they also have wives and families back at home.

  All the shit I used to scoff at. Shit that I know I’ll never have, because the only women I’d ever think about it with is off limits.

  Which is something that I need to keep reminding myself more and more lately.

  After I sign the papers and head out, my phone buzzes with a message from my sister Quinn. I ignore it, shoving my cell back in my pocket. I know what she wants, for me to come to the family dinner she’s hosting this weekend.

  Not happening.

  “Coward,” I mutter under my breath, knowing it’s the truth. But other than Quinn, no one else in my family has tried to reach out to me. And maybe that’s for the best. God knows what they’d say if they found out I’d moved in with London.

  “Abbott,” someone calls my name from across the street, and when I glance over, I see my brother Kade walking toward me.

  And he looks pissed.

  I grimace, knowing the lecture that’s coming, so I keep walking.

  “Damn it, Abbott, stop,” he catches up to me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him. If any other man put his hands on me like that, he’d be flat on his ass.

  I glare down at where his fingers are wrapped around my forearm and he releases me.

  “You ignoring me now?” My brother’s features are pulled tight with tension as he looks me over.

  “I’m not the one who had a kid and didn’t call.”

  He winces, and I see a flash of guilt in his dark eyes. “Things have been hectic.”

  I shrug. “Whatever. I’ve got shit to do.”

  “Stop being a stubborn jackass and talk to me.”

  “Nothing to say.”

  “Damn it, Abbott—”

  “What? You want another apology? Fine, I’m sorry for fucking up everyone’s lives. I’m sorry that you’re all perfect and I’m the screw up of the family. Is that what you want from me?”

  There are people walking by, and I hear the murmuring, see the lifted brows. I take in a steadying breath, trying to calm the beast inside me, but it’s already pacing, ready to strike out - needing to be in control.

  Kade sighs and takes a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I want to know that you’re all right. That you’re not drowning yourself in a bottle of Jack or...” He takes a deep breath and glances away. “Shit, Abbott, I’m just worried about you. We all are.”

  Right. That’s why no one but Quinn has tried to contact me.

  “Worry about your own shit. I’m fine.” I clench my back teeth, knowing I’m being an asshole. We were close once. Or at least as close as I let people get to me. But I screwed that up, just like I do everything else.

  Kade studies me, and I can see all the questions he wants to ask, but before he can, I say, “You got a picture of that new baby of yours?”

  His lips twitch and he pulls out his phone, scrolling through pictures before handing it to me.

  My chest squeezes when I see the photo of his wife Sophie holding the newborn, my brother with his arms around her grinning like he just won the lottery, and my niece Lola looking like the proudest big sister ever.

  A tightness builds in my throat, and I push down the emotions that build. But I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out.

  Quinn’s little boy is probably running around now, and I barely know Damon’s son, the one he didn’t know existed until last year. Guilt grips me by the throat, but the beast inside me snaps and snarls not wanting to feel those things.

  Not wanting to feel anything.

  “Congrats,” I say, handing him his phone back. “How’s Lola doing?”

  Kade’s smile doesn’t falter. “She was really hoping for a sister, but she’s adjusting. She’s been asking about you.”

  “I’ve been busy.” My jaw is so tense, I feel like the muscles might snap, and my words come out forced.

  “Doing what?”

  I could tell him about working with Moody and Theo, tell him about moving in with London, but instead, I use my words as a weapon to push him and the guilt that claws at me away. “What do you care? No one gives Jasper shit when he only comes home once a year—”

  “Jasper is working, and he isn’t...” Kade clamps his mouth shut on whatever he was going to say, then shakes his head.

  “Isn’t what?” I push, ready for a fight. Maybe even needing it. “A liability? A fuck-up?”

  “Sure,” he snaps, getting in my face. “Is that what you want me to say? That I don’t have to worry about him driving drunk and smashing a car into my bar, or putting people I love at risk because he’s too damn impulsive. And I sure as hell don’t have to worry about getting a call one night informing me he’s overdosed and I have to come identify his body.”

  His words hit me like a punch to the gut, because I know he’s right. I’ve been spiraling out of control for years.

  No more. Never again.

  “I’m done with that shit,” I say through clenched teeth, but even I can hear the doubt in my voice. Once a fuck-up, always a fuck-up, right? How long before I make another stupid mistake, before I hurt the people I love again?

  And even though my brother doesn’t say it, I know he’s thinking the same thing.

  “Look, you don’t have to worry about me,” I mutter, needing to end this conversation. “I’m fine.”

  Kade pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re my little brother, Abbott. I’m always going to worry about you.”

  It’s too much. The emotion. The truth. I know he’s faced his own darkness, but the difference is he wasn’t responsible for the demons that plagued him.

  Me? I dug my own pit straight to the hell. And as much as I want to claw my way out, I can’t. Every second is agony, knowing the scars that will be exposed if I ever reach the light.

  “I gotta go.”

  “Come by the house,” Kade says when I start to walk away.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Abbott,” he says, stopping me, my back to him now, and I hear the pain in his voice. “Everything that’s happened...it’s in the past. If it’s forgiveness you want, you have it.”

  “Didn’t ask for it,” I say over my shoulder, despite the need to hear those words. But the truth is I don’t deserve it.

  I walk away, grateful that he doesn’t try and stop me this time.

  My mood is bordering on volatile by the time I get back to the apartment. And I regret going home when I realize London is there. Because I don’t want her to see me like this.

  She’s sitting on the floor in the living room sorting through baby clothes and her face lights up when she sees me.

  Sunlight.

  Warmth.

>   It spreads through me, making me feel like all things are possible. But damn, sometimes it’s a hell of a lot easier living in the darkness.

  “How did it go?” she asks, referring to my meeting with Moody and Theo.

  “Fine,” I mutter, causing London’s brows to lift, and making me feel like the asshole I am. I can’t even force a smile, because seeing Kade has me all out of sorts.

  After dumping my bag in my room and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, I go to the living room and sit down on the couch.

  “Everything okay?” London asks, folding a onesie and placing it on top of a pile.

  “Peachy,” I say, turning the TV on and start flipping through the channels, needing something to do with my hands. I should have gone for a run, or gone back to the gym. Anything but bring my problems back here.

  “Quinn called me,” London says, glancing over at me.

  I tense. “Why?”

  “Apparently you haven’t answered her last few texts, and she went by your apartment, found someone else living there.” There’s a hint of hurt when she says, “You didn’t tell her you moved in here.”

  “It’s none of her business.”

  London’s shoulders rise and fall, and she goes back to folding the tiny outfits. “I invited her to come by.”

  I sit up and frown at her. “Why would you do that?”

  She lets out a frustrated sound. “Because she loves you. And you need to stop hiding from them.”

  “And you need to stay out of it,” I growl out, regretting the words the second I say them when I see the flash of hurt in London’s eyes. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I just...I can’t deal with my family right now.”

  “Okay,” she says softly, turning away from me again.

  Fuck, I hate hurting her. Hate being an ass to the only person who’s ever stuck by my side no matter how much of a screw-up I’ve been.

  But she doesn’t know the truth. If she did...

  I scrub my hands over my face. “I’ll call her tonight, okay?”

  “You were right. It’s none of my business,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Except it is her business. Or I want it to be. And I don’t want her to be afraid to call me out when I’m being an asshole. But sometimes I feel like I’m two different people. Pushing London away, Pulling her closer. It’s not fucking fair to either of us.

  There’s too much heaviness surrounding us. Or maybe it’s my own darkness that presses down, threatening to suffocate, burying her light.

  “We need to do something fun,” I say.

  Her eyes narrow on me, but I see the small smile tug at her lips. “Like what?”

  I grin as an idea pops into my head. “Well since skydiving and horseback riding are out of the question...” I take her hands and help her up. “I noticed that the Hyland Cinema is playing one of those old black and white movies you like.”

  That pulls a small smile from her. “You hate them. Plus, I don’t know if I can sit that long in those chairs.” She rubs her lower back.

  “Okay, skydiving it is.” I wink.

  “God, you’d do it too, wouldn’t you?” She shakes her head at me, grinning. “Jump out of a plane like it’s nothing. You’ve always been fearless.”

  She doesn’t know how wrong she is. I live my life in fear. Fear that I’ll lose her. Fear that something will happen to her. Fear that I’ll be the one to destroy the last bit of light in this dark world.

  I force a smile. “Okay, so no skydiving. How about Pinky’s. And if we’re feeling really nostalgic we can stop at Frank’s Pizza for a slice.”

  “Pinky’s?” she says chuckling. “I haven’t been to the arcade since we were...God, since we were kids. I wonder if they still have your picture on the wall from when you won the Galaga tournament? I think we were thirteen.”

  “Fourteen,” I say, remembering, because it was right before my world turned dark.

  London’s screams. Her pain. My fear and guilt. Images that I’ve suppressed for years threaten to surface and I have to force them down. But a cold sweat forms on my brow, my fingers curl into fists, and I feel like there’s a noose is around my throat...squeezing until I can’t breathe.

  The beast inside me paces, ready to be unleashed, to fight back, but it’s just London here, the only person I can’t, won’t fight.

  “Hey.” Her palm is on my face, hazel eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?”

  I exhale heavily through my nostrils, the urge to back away nearly as strong as the one to pull her into my arms.

  “Nothing.” I don’t move. The heat of her body warms mine and I take it, wishing I had something to give back to her. I clear my throat. “So, what do you say? Pinky’s and pizza?”

  “It’s a date,” she says nonchalantly, but I see the instant she realizes what she said. Her expression drops, and she stutters, “I...mean...uh, not a date-date, but...um...”

  “Yeah, I know what you meant.” But I’m still standing too close to her, and while my brain warns me that I’m complicating things, I can’t step away.

  The worst part, the thing that tortures me at night, is I see her desire too. I’d be blind not to notice it.

  Even Kyle had seen it.

  “Sometimes I wonder why you introduced me to London when it’s clear you’re in love with her,” he’d said a few months after they’d started dating.

  “It’s ‘cause I love her that I know she’s better off with you.” I’d been hammered when I’d said it, but it was the truth, a truth I hadn’t admitted until that moment. “You’ll make her happy, or...” I’d lifted the bottle of Jack toward him. “I’ll kick your ass.”

  He’d frowned, picking at the label on his beer bottle. “I see the way she looks at you too.”

  “I can’t help that all women want to fuck me.” I’d played it off, smacking his back, even though my cock had grown hard thinking about her beneath me.

  “Be honest with me.” Kyle kept forcing the conversation, even though we both knew we were treading on thin ice. “All the years you two have been friends, you never even kissed her?”

  “No.” Because I knew that if I did, it wouldn’t end there. I’d want every piece of her. And I only had so much self-control.

  “Damn.” Kyle shook his head at me. “You really do love her.”

  I’d muttered, “Enough to know that she deserves better than me.”

  She still does.

  I’ll never be able to make her happy. Never be able to give her all the things she deserves. And I’m not sure what I’ll do when she finds someone else who will.

  London places her hands on my chest and stands on tiptoes looking into my eyes. “Hey. Where’d you go? I was talking to you and you just spaced out.”

  I inhale her scent, vanilla and strawberries, and it anchors me back to reality.

  London.

  Here.

  With me.

  I breathe her in.

  She’s mine, my heart beats. She’s always been mine.

  My cock aches with need to be inside her. To possess her.

  Can’t happen.

  Except that line that I put between us all those years ago seems to have gotten thinner. Or maybe I’m becoming even more selfish than I used to be. Either way, I need to remember why I’m here, in her apartment - Because the man she loved, the guy who was ready to give her everything she deserved, is dead...because of me.

  So back the fuck off, asshole.

  I force a playful grin. “You ready to have your ass whooped at Pac Man?”

  “Donkey Kong was always my game.”

  I chuckle. “You beat me once because Damon distracted me.”

  “It was still a win.”

  “Only one you ever got.”

  “You’re so competitive.” She shakes her head. “Always have been.” Her hands are still on my chest, her eyes searching mine like she’s begging me to kiss her, and I wonder if she has any idea what she’s doing to me. When I don’t
move. she sighs, “We’ve been friends a long time.”

  “Yeah.” Our gazes are locked.

  Look away.

  Can’t.

  Energy sizzles between us, pulling like a damn magnet. And the self-preservation that usually has me drawing back has decided to abandon me in this moment, and I know I’m about to do something incredibly stupid. But I can’t stop myself.

  Instead, I warn her, “We should go.”

  She swallows, slowly, not pulling away like I need her to.

  “London.”

  “Why are you here, Abbott?” Those eyes beg me for more, for something I can’t give her. At least not without destroying us both.

  “I live here,” I tease, my voice light despite the heaviness that weighs on me.

  “Abbott.” The way she says my name is almost desperate -- wanting, needing.

  I won’t destroy what we are. She’s the only anchor I have left.

  “We’re friends,” I say. “I owe it to Kyle, to you, to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  Her mouth tugs down, and I know it’s not the answer she wants.

  I want to give her the truth. Admit that I’m nothing without her. That I’d been willing to let her be with another man, believing she’d be happier. That I’d been willing to die, to take a bullet for her. That I don’t care if my family ever speaks to me again, as long as she’s safe.

  That I love her.

  But I’m not the man she deserves. Hell, I’m not even a man. I’m a beast, tormented by my sins.

  “Okay,” she says, starting to back away.

  And the instant that she does, I feel her loss. Feel that dark void that is only filled by her presence grow.

  Without thinking, I place my hands on her face.

  Don’t do it, my brain warns.

  But my heart and body don’t listen.

  I need her.

  Need this.

  Now.

  “Abbott,” she moans, my name on her lips a plea. One that I can’t resist any longer.

  I crush my lips against hers, and when I do, she gasps, sucking in the growl that rumbles from my throat. Fierce. Possessive. I kiss her. And God, I feel my whole world unraveling, my heart bursting from my chest. It’s overwhelming and wrong, yet so damn right at the same time.

 

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