Beast: Savages and Saints

by Seabrook, C. M.

  He sighs but doesn’t pull his hand away, and we sit there like that for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts, me wondering if I’ll ever understand the demons that plague him, or why my heart has me anchored to him no matter how bad I know he is for me. Why I can’t give up on him when everyone else has...even himself.

  “Let’s go put that baby stuff together,” he finally says, opening the car door, fingers still entwined with mine.

  Not wanting to let go of his hand, but knowing if I hold on any longer, it’ll just be awkward, I release it.

  “You have anything to eat?” Abbott asks when we’re in the elevator.

  “I can make blueberry pancakes.” I know they’re his favorite.

  “Sounds like a fair trade. Manual labor for food.” He holds the elevator door for me when we reach my floor.

  I take his jacket when we’re inside my apartment and avert my eyes from focusing on the bulging muscles of his forearms, but these damn pregnancy hormones have me spinning lately.

  One minute I’m crying, the next my body feels like it’s burning, my core aching with pent-up sexual frustration. And it doesn’t help that Abbott is...well, everything.

  Powerful, masculine, and yet there’s a gentleness in his eyes when he looks at me.

  Friends, I remind myself. The last thing I need is to put a wedge between us by letting him see how messed up my thoughts of him have become. We both need each other so much right now, that’s all it is. Grief. Pain. It makes us think and want things we shouldn’t.

  Abbott is already tearing into boxes, and he glances over his shoulder at me, one brow cocked when he catches me watching him. My cheeks burn, and I turn away quickly. “I’ll...uh...go make breakfast.”

  I’m flipping the last pancake when Abbott comes into the kitchen. “The changing table is done. Where do you want me to put it?”

  “Stacey’s old room. It’s closer to my room than the spare.”

  He frowns at me. “She moved out?”

  I shrug and turn back to the pancakes. “It’s for the best.” Except it’s not, because I can’t afford to live here alone.

  As if reading my thoughts, he says, “Rent is pretty high here. You going to be able to make it work?”

  “I’ll get by. I always do.”

  He leans on the counter beside me. “If you need money—”

  “I’m not taking your money, Abbott.”

  I see the guilt in his eyes and hate that he thinks he owes me. That he’s somehow responsible for me now that Kyle is gone.

  “Don’t do that.” I place the last pancake on the plate that’s already stacked high and hand it to him.

  He grabs one and takes a bite. “What?”

  “What Kyle did wasn’t your fault. You don’t have to—”

  “Yeah, I do.” Abbott pushes off the counter, giving me his back and sits down at the kitchen table.

  Anger simmers inside me, but not at Abbott, at Kyle, and my words taste bitter when I say, “He knew Farkas was holding that kid ransom. He should have gone to the police.”

  The fork Abbott was holding drops with a clank to the plate, but he doesn’t turn around when he says harshly, “He didn’t deserve to be killed.”

  “I didn’t say that.” I turn off the stove and move to sit down across from him. “I just...you can’t blame yourself.”

  His right eye twitches and he picks up his fork again, taking a mouthful of pancakes, looking anywhere but at me.

  “Abbott—”

  “You and I both know he would never have been mixed up with those guys in the first place if it wasn’t for me.”

  “And he’d never have needed the money to buy an engagement ring if I hadn’t been knocked up. We can play the blame game all day.”

  “Why are you always trying to justify what I’ve done?” He pushes the plate away, shaking his head, and I know I’ve pushed him too far. “That kid of yours is going to grow up without a dad because—”

  “Because what?” I shout, my own frustration mounting. “You weren’t the one who shot him.”

  “I may as well have been,” he yells back.

  “God, you’re so messed up.”

  He grunts. “You’re just finally realizing that?” His eyes close briefly and he looks up at the ceiling. A tense silence stretches between us before he finally says, “I’ll finish the crib tomorrow. I need...”

  I know what he needs, another bottle of Jack. Anything to ease the guilt.

  “Fine. Go.” I start to stand, but a wave of nausea and light-headedness make me sit down again. I mutter a curse under my breath and clench my eyes shut as I wait for it to pass.

  “What’s wrong?” Abbott is beside me in a heartbeat, crouching and taking my hand.

  “Noth-nothing...” I exhale, opening my eyes and meeting a pair of concerned brown ones. I try to focus on them as a distraction. I’ve always loved Abbott’s eyes. In the shadows, they look almost black and piercing, but with the morning light hitting them like it is now, I see all shades of browns and amber.

  “London,” he growls out, demanding I answer him.

  “I just stood up too quickly.” I lean back in my chair, the nausea dissipating. “You can go. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not leaving you if something is wrong.” His words sound more like a threat, even though I know they come from concern.

  There’s my protector. So damn feral.

  “I’m a nurse, remember?” I say, trying to ease his worry.

  “Yeah, you spend your life taking care of people, but forget to take care of yourself.”

  “I take care of myself.”

  He snorts. “That’s why you’re taking extra shifts. You should be resting, not working more.”

  “I don’t have that luxury right now.”

  “Because of money?”

  “Because of everything, Abbott.” Frustration blooms in my chest, mixing with pregnancy hormones, and all the stress that has overwhelmed me for the past several months. “Yeah, I’d love to sit on the couch with my feet up, eating ice cream and binge-watching Netflix. And you’re probably right, I shouldn’t be working as hard as I am, but I’ve got a baby coming in a few months, and I have no idea how the hell I’m going to pay rent, let alone the hospital bills...” A small sob escapes me, and I hate it. Hate letting Abbott see me weak.

  He gathers me in his arms, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I melt into him and take the strength he offers.

  “You need a place to stay, you can move in with me.”

  I laugh at the absurdity of his offer and shake my head against his chest. “You’re hilarious.”

  “Why?” He places his hand under my chin and forces me to look at him. “You’re going to need help once the kid is born.”

  A smile tugs at my lips. “And you’re willing to change diapers and wake up for midnight feedings?”

  He pauses, and I can see him thinking it over. “Yeah.”

  “Right.” I start to push away. “Be serious.”

  “I am.” His gaze is hard, determined, like he’s already made up his mind.

  I shake my head, knowing his intentions are good, but also knowing he’d never last a week around a baby. And his apartment isn’t exactly kid-friendly.

  His massive body has me trapped in my seat, and even if I wanted to get away, I can’t. But his suggestion has my mind racing and going all sorts of places I know it shouldn’t.

  I place a hand on his shoulder and try to push him back, but he doesn’t budge. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll find a way—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Do what?”

  “Diapers. Feedings. Whatever you need.”

  “Abbott—”

  “I’m not saying I’ll be good at it, but how much work can a six-pound human really be.”

  A small laugh escapes me, and I see him frown.

  “What?”

  “You’re just...you’re such a guy.” I shake my head, know
ing he’d never follow through with it anyway. “I appreciate the offer, but I like my apartment. It’s close to the hospital and—”

  “Then I’ll move in here.” He’s standing, pulling me up with him, and I know from his expression that this isn’t a joke to him.

  Me and Abbott living together? Yeah, probably the worst idea ever!

  “Not going to happen,” I say, my body all too aware of how close he is, and that his hands are still cupping my elbows. “Ever.”

  His lips thin, gaze hardens, and his jaw twitches like he’s ready for a fight. “Why not?”

  “You’re not moving in here.”

  He rubs the back of his neck and glances around the kitchen as if sizing it up. “You need a roommate, and I need...”

  “You need what? To be woken up at all hours of the night by a screaming infant?”

  “I need to help you.” Those five words are barely audible, but there’s a gravity to them that sends a shiver down my spine. Like this is more than about him and me, or even Kyle. It’s about whatever demons have ravaged his soul.

  “You are helping me. But...”

  He takes my hand in his massive one and looks down at me. “I need to do this.”

  “You’re crazy,” I say softly.

  A smirk tugs at his lips. “Yeah, you already knew that.”

  I let myself think about it, what it would be like to live with him. It would be nice to have him here.

  Until he starts bringing home girls and drinking.

  Then there’s the drugs.

  The alcohol.

  “It won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t have you drinking and bringing girls around—”

  “I won’t.” Dark eyes study me, piercing and almost desperate, like he needs this.

  But as much as I care about him, as much as I need the help, his life is toxic.

  He’s toxic.

  Plus, there’s the damn jealousy I feel every time I see him hooking up with some random girl. To have him here, with another woman...I just can’t.

  “Abbott—”

  “I promise.” He tilts his head closer to me, holding my gaze until I’m lost in those eyes. “No girls, no booze, no drugs.”

  I laugh. It’s a defensive sound. Because I know there’s no way in hell he could or will ever cut those things out of his life. They’re as much a part of him as breathing. But maybe...

  “Let me do this.” A flash of pain cuts through his gaze. “Please.”

  “Why?” I ask, starting to pull away, but he just holds tighter.

  Confusion and need and want and all sorts of emotions I should be feeling cloud my mind.

  Abbott lets out a deep, shaky breath. “For Kyle.”

  For Kyle. Part of me wants a different answer. But I know that’s the real truth of it. Abbott will never stop blaming himself. And maybe, just maybe giving him something to do, other than drowning in booze and women, will be good for him.

  “I don’t know...” I chew on my bottom lip, thinking about all the complications. Him walking around half naked, him using my shower...him in my bed.

  Damn. This is so not a good idea.

  I have a baby on the way, that’s all I should be thinking about. Too bad I’ve never been good at saying no to Abbott.

  “We’d need rules,” I say.

  He grins, a real Abbott Savage grin, one that I haven’t seen in a long time, and my heart flutters like it used to when we were kids.

  “You know I don’t do well with rules.”

  I grunt and take a step back, needing some distance between us, but he’s still too close. “Which is why we need them.”

  “So that’s a yes?” There’s excitement in his voice.

  I sigh. “Would you take no for an answer?”

  He chuckles. “Probably not.”

  “If we do this, we split the rent and the cleaning.”

  That makes him frown and he rubs the back of his neck. “What kind of cleaning? I’m sure there are ways we can redistribute the chores. I can cook.”

  I scoff. “Noodles and instant rice aren’t cooking.”

  He grunts. “Fine, fifty-fifty.”

  I remind him of his promise, “No booze. No drugs. No girls. That’s the only way this will work.”

  “You have my word. I’m here to help you. I don’t want to make things more difficult.”

  Except, I know by agreeing to this, it’s exactly what it’ll be - difficult. And I wonder if my pregnancy brain just made me sign a deal with the Devil himself. Because never in my right mind would I think it was a good idea to let the Beast of Port Clover move into my apartment.

  It’s bad enough he already has a permanent residence in my heart.

  Chapter 5

  Abbott

  With the help of Liam St. James, one of the only guys who’s still talking to me after the stunt I pulled last fall, I move what I need into London’s apartment while she’s at work, and place the rest of my junk in storage.

  “You’re really doing this?” Liam asks when I hand him a Coke from London’s fridge. He frowns at the can, before cracking it open and taking a sip. “No beer?”

  “One of London’s rules.”

  “Like I said, you really doing this?” He’s shaking his head at me, and I can tell he doesn’t think I’ll last a week. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I have to make it work. I know I’ll never be able to redeem myself for shit I’ve put her through, but this is something I can do. Be here for her. Change a few diapers. Make a few bottles. Shit, even a trained monkey could do those things.

  I shrug. “She needs help.”

  “London’s never needed anybody’s help. I still can’t believe she agreed to this. Thought she was smarter than that. You around a baby?” He chuckles. “I give it a week before you’re calling me looking for a couch to sleep on.”

  I flip him the finger, but his doubts twist inside me, filling me with my own.

  He chuckles. “Okay, so tell me the truth, are you screwing her?”

  I glare at him, giving him a look that would shut most people up. But Liam and his brother Zee are like family, and no matter how many titles I’ve won in the ring, the guy has never been scared of me, even though I could wipe that smirk off his face with one good punch.

  “London and I are just friends,” I say. “That’s all we’ve ever been.”

  He just keeps smirking at me like he’s got some inside knowledge that I’m not aware of. “Right.”

  “I’m helping her out. That’s all.”

  “For being such a dickhead, you’ve got some weird savior complex with her.” He shrugs. “But maybe this will be good for you. You’re going to have to clean yourself up pretty quickly.”

  “I am clean.” Sort of.

  He grunts. “Bullshit. I heard about that stunt you pulled last Saturday.”

  “It was a sanctioned fight.” Another small lie.

  “You’re lucky Damon didn’t hear about it. Your brother is just itching to find any excuse to put your ass behind bars...” He lifts his Coke in salute and smirks. “Again.”

  “The fight was in Harristown, out of his jurisdiction. And why the hell do you think I stay away from Port Clover? I swear the asshole would lock me up for a broken taillight.”

  “Do you blame him?” Liam raises a brow at me. “You almost got his wife killed.”

  Because I was trying to protect London.

  But Liam’s right, Lorelei almost drowned because of me. Another one of my fuck-ups.

  I may have killed the man who kidnapped her son, but my brother will always only remember that I’d put his wife in danger.

  And got myself shot in the process.

  I roll my shoulder, the pain suddenly sharp as memories of that day flood through me. My hands will always be stained with blood. But Farkas wasn’t the first man I killed.

  Shame, guilt, remorse, they fill me.

  I clench my fists, the need to hit something
overpowering, the beast inside me pacing to be let loose.

  Silence stretches between us, until Liam finally says, “You heard Sophie had her baby?”

  “Yeah.” I got a text from my sister Quinn telling me that I had a new nephew. But like Damon, my brother Kade has his own reasons to hate me, so I haven’t messaged back.

  “You going to see him?” Liam asks, obviously aware that I hadn’t made the journey back to Port Clover to congratulate my sister-in-law.

  “They don’t want me there,” I mutter. Kade hadn’t bothered to call me himself, so why should I make the effort?

  My entire family is still pissed at me. Sure, with good reason, but it still stings like a motherfucker knowing they’ll never see me as anything more than a liability.

  I’ve caused enough turmoil in their lives, better I just stay the hell away from them. And honestly, I can’t stand seeing the accusations in their eyes. Even my own mom hadn’t been able to meet my gaze the last time I’d seen her.

  “They’re just worried about you,” Liam says. “It doesn’t help that you’ve missed every family get together, since—”

  “I don’t need someone else lecturing me.”

  Liam places his can on the counter and lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, you’re hurting more than yourself by staying away.”

  I grunt, doubting anyone gives a shit. My siblings are all occupied with their new families. All of them but my oldest brother Jasper, who was smart enough to get the hell out of Port Clover as soon as he graduated from high school. Like me, he went rogue. He just did it by flying rich, old fuckers around the world in fancy jets.

  “At least call Quinn,” Liam pushes, grabbing his keys off the counter and heading to the door. “Zee says she’s been worried sick about you.”

  I know he’s right, I’ve been avoiding everyone for too long. I can fight guys twice my size in the octagon, but having to face my family is a fight I’m not up for.

  When Liam’s gone and I’ve moved all my boxes into the spare room, I finally respond to the dozens of texts my sister has sent me this past week. Quinn is the only one in the family that still gives half a shit about me, and I know I’ve just proven what an asshole I am by ignoring her.

  Me: Tell Kade and Sophie congrats.