“You think you’ve won?” He laughed, blood dripping down his face and into his eyes. “That’s what’s so funny. You think that this is over. That it ends with us.” He laughed again and I gripped my knife tight in my grip and stabbed him in the same spot that I’d just shown Belle.
Carlos grunted as I held the blade in him. I stared into his eyes and I felt like God, looking life and death in the face, deciding someone’s fate with a strike of my knife. I twisted it and he grunted again, his mouth opening and blood spilling off his flaccid tongue as he tried to call out. I put a hand over his mouth to stifle his cries and glared at him.
“You’re lucky I’m not going to make this last,” I gritted out, “that I’m going to end this quickly for you instead of keeping you on the brink of death for the next year, just like you did to me. I’m sending you on a swift one-way journey to hell, where you can serve your time with the real Devil, but you make sure to save a place for when I’m done up here…because I’ll be seeing you again.”
I pulled the knife out of his side, gripped the handle tighter, and stabbed it into his chest, the sharp blade cutting through bone and muscle easily. I dragged it down his chest all the way to his belly button, cutting him open like a fish and letting his screams of pain fill up my cup for bloodlust to overflowing. When I reached his belly button, I pulled the knife out as he let out a final raspy breath and his insides tumbled at his feet.
I felt, rather than saw, Belle come to stand next to me as I stared at Carlos, feeling nothing but hatred for the piece of shit who’d brought me so much pain. Belle reached over and pried the knife from my hand, and I finally tore my gaze away from Carlos to look at her. I expected fear or terror, and she did look frightened. There was no denying that. But mostly she looked determined. I’d shown her the beast that lived within me and she was still by my side. She wrapped herself around me, burying her face against my chest like she was trying to calm me, like she was trying to soothe me, and I held her back, feeling more at peace than I ever had done in my life.
“He deserved that,” she said, finally pulling away. Her face was smeared with blood and her eyes looked brighter. “After everything he did to you…he deserved that.”
She looked over at Mateo, who was glaring at us both. But there was no mistaking the fear in his eyes or the sadness as he saw his brother dead, his blood and guts dripping to the floor.
“You going to do that to me now, gorgeous?” he asked with a smirk, and I started toward him but she put a hand to my chest. “Pity, I had big plans for us.”
“I have to do this,” she said softly. “I have to do this for us.” She reached up and cupped my face, running her thumb along one of the deeper gouges down my cheek. “I’ll do it for you, Beast.”
If I could have loved her any more than I already did, my heart would have burst out of my chest.
Belle turned away from me and stepped toward Mateo, a knife in each hand now. Mateo lifted his chin and sneered at her.
“Sweet piece of ass like you going to cut me open?” he asked, coughing and wincing at the same time. “Sounds like a good time, not punishment.” He licked his lips and sneered at her.
“I hope this hurts,” she said, sounding fierce as fuck, and my dick twitched.
His smile grew wider. “I’ll be seeing you in hell soon enough, bitch. I’ll take my punishment and when you get down there” —he side-eyed me—“I’ll be waiting for both of you.”
I thought she was going to cry—she was already shaking from head to toe—but she stepped right up to him, close enough for him to stick out his tongue and lick along her cheek, but she didn’t flinch. Not even a millimeter.
“Are you done?” she asked, and he laughed in response. Belle looked across at me. “Show me,” she said. “Where can I hurt him the most?”
My Belle.
My beautiful Belle was turning into a monster just like me.
I should have pulled her away from the darkness, but instead I helped her run toward it, directing her blade toward the places I knew that would inflict the greatest amount of pain but keep him alive through it all.
The blood flowed and Mateo released his howls of pain into the air surrounding us. Belle embraced it all, hating it, loving it, wanting to be a part of my world no matter the consequences to her own soul. And when it was over, she was bathed in his blood and her eyes were empty.
I took the knife from her grip as Mateo lay limp from his chains, his face red with his own blood, his body wilted and empty. I looked up at Shooter and he nodded okay.
I leaned in to Belle and whispered into her ear. “Finish him, baby.”
She nodded, and I pointed a thick finger at where his heart was in his chest and she took a step forward, raised the knife, and delivered the final blow to his heart, killing him instantly.
Rider clicked the camera off, and Gauge and Shooter stood up, coming toward us both. Belle looked at them all, her face red with another man’s blood.
“Is it done now?” she asked, her voice sounding empty. “Are we good?”
My brothers looked at Shooter and he nodded. “Score is settled, Belle. You’re one of us now.” He looked at me. “Take your woman and get her cleaned up. Tonight we celebrate Echo’s revenge, brother, and I want you both there.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~ Belle ~
I had killed a man.
I had tortured a man.
I was covered in his blood—my hair, my face, my hands, my clothes.
We were at Beast’s home and he helped me strip out of my clothes and turned on the shower. He helped me in and I stood under the hot, beating water numbly watching the blood drain away.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, and I shook my head. He left, hesitating momentarily in the doorway before leaving.
I needed to be alone for a little while. To comprehend what I had just done and to come to terms with it. I had killed someone. The words seemed like fantasy in my head and I couldn’t get them to make any sense.
The water had finally washed away the blood and gore that had covered me. Not blood from saving someone, but blood from killing someone. My soul felt wilted and empty, like someone had sucked all the good out of me and left me nothing but an empty body. A million hours of sleep wouldn’t cure me of this feeling. I wasn’t sure what would. I wondered, not for the first time since I’d seen myself bathed in blood, if this was how Beast felt every day. Did he feel empty? Did he feel devoid of emotions? Is this why he held on to his rage so tightly, because it made him feel something? Would that be me now?
The door creaked open and I looked up as Beast peered around the shower curtain, finding me sat in the bath hugging my knees to my chest, the water pounding down on me, and I saw the pain in his eyes. I wanted to get up and act like this was okay. That I was fine. I didn’t want him to feel guilty for this. He’d already suffered so much, I wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
But I couldn’t hide it.
I couldn’t switch myself back on to do anything but stare blankly at him.
He pulled the curtain all the way back and stepped into the bath, his jeans and T-shirt getting soaked as he reached for me and pulled me into his arms. He turned the shower off and carried me naked and wet to his bed before laying me down in it, and then he lay next to me. Holding me. Keeping me warm. Keeping me safe. Keeping me sane.