No Broken Beast

by Snow, Nicole

That’s another thing I never knew about Leo.

  He’s pretty freaking good with computers like this, understands cracking data.

  Honestly, there are a lot of things I never knew about Leo. Why?

  Was he lying to me when I fell in love with him twice? Or just trying to protect me?

  I want to believe I loved the man he really was, and the secrets he hid were things I didn’t need to know, some inner darkness he didn’t want to keep whenever he was with me.

  But now, I just don’t know.

  I shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now.

  I should be trying to think what hidden messages Deanna could’ve possibly left that would lead me to the password for the data.

  Her face flashes in my mind—not as I want to remember her, but bloodied, bruised, frightened. I shudder, my heart hurting. Every word she said replays in my mind, but if she was hiding some clue for me in there, some phrase, some meaning...

  I just can’t make the connection.

  “You’re staring at me,” Leo murmurs, his thick fingers still rattling over the keyboard, his lips moving past the shadow of the hood.

  I jerk, then blink, forcing a faint smile. “You’ve been playing stalker in the shadows for a while. It’s a little weird to see you sitting at my kitchen table instead of skulking around in the woods.”

  A chuckle drifts out from under his hood. “I’ve got a portable solar charger out at my camp, but it’s not much to keep a laptop going for long.”

  My throat feels full, and I cough.

  God, I want to say it.

  I want to tell him I’m freaking glad he’s here, glad he’s inside, glad he’s taking up this space in my life instead of hiding out like he thinks he’s some freaky monster who can only live in the shadows.

  But the words dry up on my tongue. I make myself look away.

  “You look stressed,” I deflect instead. “Maybe it’s break time?”

  “Breaks aren’t a luxury we’ve got. What’s on this drive is our only leverage, our only damn chance.”

  “What’s on that drive could kill us,” I say softly. “Once we know, we know...and giving them the drive for Deanna won’t erase that. Once we see it, that’s it, Leo.”

  “So you want me to stop?”

  “No.” He can’t stop, not when Deanna’s running out of time. “But maybe just give me a few more minutes of sweet ignorance?”

  “Ah. Okay.”

  I’m half expecting him to brush it off and keep working.

  Instead, he taps a key on the laptop and locks the screen.

  Then slowly he reaches up, pushing his hood back like he’s afraid for me to see him in the harsh light overhead—when I want nothing more.

  He really doesn’t get how amazing he is.

  How nothing’s changed. Not when he’s so raw and primal he’s magnetized, a living force of burning sexiness and dark divinity, twisted by fire into the most wicked shape yet.

  In his twenties, he was divine, huge, hard as nails. But now?

  Holy hell, now he’s a giant, all hulking muscles and jagged lines and full body ink that screams, just try, Rissa. Try to stop wanting to explore me with your tongue.

  He’s pure sin.

  But it’s not sinful when he looks over his shoulder toward the hall.

  It’s nervous, almost shy.

  And I smile, realizing he’s worried about Zach, who’s already tucked in for the night.

  My heart goes soft and achy at the thought.

  He doesn’t even know Zach’s his, and he’s still worried about our son rejecting him. Fearing him, just because he’s so different.

  Don’t you know that being different is what makes you so wild? So amazing?

  I wish I could just grab him and yell it in his face.

  “Leo, I—” I pause, but my brain doesn’t.

  I have to tell you something.

  I have to tell you Zach is yours.

  He needs you. I need you. So flipping bad.

  It won’t come out. The instant his reflective eyes lock onto me, sharp and questioning, the words knot up in my throat. I swallow, looking down at my knees.

  “What about that man who came here? The one who said he knew about Deanna?” I look up.

  Leo’s expression blackens, and he lets out a grunt. “What was his name again?”

  “Nash,” I say, frowning. “Do you know him?”

  “I might.” He looks away, his brows lowering in thick crags. “I don’t remember.”

  “Should you?”

  “Yeah. Trouble is, forgetting some things was the only way I’ve survived all these years.” It comes harsh, low, but it’s not hard to tell that fury isn’t directed at me. Not when it’s full of so much pain. “Galentron did shit to me, Clarissa. Things that made me who and what I am. But I wasn’t the only one. There are others out there like me. Like me, but still loyal to the company.”

  I bite my lip. “I remember when I was little...there were these stories about not going outside after dark. They said if the monsters caught you, you’d be stolen away, and even back then I knew the monsters weren’t all fake because they were in our house. Shadow men who might just steal me and Deedee if we weren’t good and didn’t go to bed on time.” I swallow, my throat tight. “You were one of the kids they took, weren’t you? That’s why you disappeared.”

  He goes oddly still. He’s not looking at me, but the tension in his body says everything, hard muscles straining against his clothes.

  Finally, he rasps, “Yeah. I was already under their thumb when you met me as Tiger. Everyone in the Nighthawks, they took us all. They erased who we used to be. And then they remade us into something else.”

  My heart thumps so hard it’s a miracle my ribs don’t crack. “Nighthawks? But Deanna—”

  “Yeah.” His eyes close, lashes lowering. “That’s what that word meant. She must’ve found out about it, and Galentron must’ve sent one of them after her.”

  My mind is whirling. All of these weird, scary puzzle pieces flying around, smashing against each other and trying to fit together. “Nash. He...he seemed so familiar. Reminded me of you with how big he is, the way he moves. Is he...?”

  “Probably,” Leo whispers. “And he’s probably the demon-fuck who has Deanna.”

  I shudder, pressing my hand to my throat like I can grab my own pulse and slow it down. “What did they do to you?”

  “Everything.” His growl deepens. “Torture. Mind control. Psych warfare. Everything, Rissa. But I was closer to you than you ever knew. They kept us out of sight, beneath that house sometimes. Your place.” He opens his eyes, lifting his head, looking at me with such razor-sharp pain I can’t stand it. “I was always with you, even when you didn’t know it. We were suffering. Together.”

  Oh my God.

  The tears just come in this hot, explosive rush that’s almost blinding.

  I can’t stand being so far away from him when he’s hurting, spilling these vicious fragments that stab me in the soul. And before I know it I’m off the sofa, racing across the space to his chair.

  He flinches as I press myself against his back. There’s only the hard wood back of the chair between us, but he’s so tall it barely comes up to his shoulder blades, and when I wrap my arms around him and lean my chest against his back, he gives in.

  He doesn’t pull away.

  Thank God.

  And I bury my face against his hair, lacing my hands together over his chest. Just holding him as tight as I can, breathing in his scent that’s like all the wild and savage things ever made under the sky.

  “I’m so, so sorry.” I’m whimpering now. “I’m sorry, Leo, I never knew.”

  “The way it should be. Did everything I could to keep you from knowing, sweetheart.” His hand comes up slowly, curling against my wrists, warm and heavy and reassuring, and I ache inside with this longing that’s never died. “Galentron tangled up our lives, but I never wanted those bastards to hurt you the way th
ey hurt me.”

  “Did...did you really leave those flowers for me?”

  There’s a faint sound. Not quite a laugh, it’s bitter and dark, his body jerking hard against me. “Every month. All these years. I hoped they’d find you, one way or another. Knew Deanna came back here sometimes, and I guess...” He trails off.

  I’m going to break.

  I’m going to freaking break myself if he keeps telling me these things, and then I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Kiss him. Tell him everything.

  Tell him Zach needs him, tell him I need him, tell him I don’t care about the past when we have this chance to start over and create a new future.

  No matter what secrets he’s kept from me, I know this man.

  I know who saved my life, and it’s the same broken hero who’s working himself to the bone to save my sister now, to save us all again.

  “I don’t get how you’ve stayed so strong,” I murmur, resting my head to the back of his shoulder. “I mean, how have you even survived as a fugitive? Living in the wild?”

  “A little MacGyvering never hurt a dude. I’ve managed, off-grid. Survival skills from the military, mostly.” He turns his head, and the rough, scarred texture of his cheek, his scruff, brushes against mine. “It’s been enough for me till now.”

  And it’s not anymore? I want to ask, but my bravery keeps deserting me.

  Instead I whisper, “I don’t understand why you always apologized with the flowers. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing, Leo.”

  Then I feel it. The moment I lose him.

  When he goes stiff against me and his hand drops away and his amethyst stare fades.

  I want to hold on tight, to never let him go, but I make myself loosen my grip as all that powerful muscle bunches and coils before he stands, stepping forward, putting distance between us. I stare at the broad, titanic shape of his back, his shoulders, as he pulls his hood up again.

  “Get some rest,” he murmurs. “We’ll start again in the morning.”

  I can’t speak. If I talk, I’ll beg, and I’m too proud for that.

  For all the raw emotion he displayed moments ago, I can’t tell if he’s the only one who still feels this aching pull. I can’t tell if I’m even feeling it, or if I’m just desperate for comfort when I’m so afraid for my sister, and Leo’s as familiar and safe as he is strange and frightening.

  I turn away. I can’t look into the storm if I’m going to find the courage to speak.

  To finally ask him, “Do you think there’s another way we can crack the password?”

  There’s no answer.

  I glance over my shoulder and sigh. I should’ve known.

  He’s already gone.

  Vanished into the night like a phantom, leaving me alone with better times, better memories, better wishes.

  * * *

  Eight Years Ago

  I’ve never seen the stars like they are tonight.

  Maybe it’s just because I’ve never bothered looking up, or because I’ve rarely been allowed outside after dark under the open sky.

  It’s another new thing I’ve learned. Another fresh, beautiful discovery, all thanks to him.

  This whole summer has felt unreal.

  Like a dream. Like magic.

  Like every night he steals me away into our own secret fairy tale, and come morning, I don’t want to return to the harsh grey light of life. The pain. The fear. The constant trauma hovering over my head like a spinning axe.

  But tonight feels doubly enchanted. We stand at the base of the cliff, hand in hand, looking up at the sky.

  Out here, it’s just pure inky darkness and tinsel night.

  The Milky Way has never looked so bright, so amazing, a sky full of billions of little pinprick lights.

  And I feel every one of them burning inside me as I clasp Leo’s hand, leaning into him and breathing in his scent that makes me so, so happy.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back in the morning,” I whisper, resting my cheek to his arm. “How I’m ever supposed to let this go and return to that hell.”

  “Soon you won’t have to.” His hand covers mine, clasping it against his arm, and he looks down at me. His eyes are just two more brilliant, violet stars, gleaming in the night. “I had no idea it’d gotten that bad, Rissa. That he was fucking hurting you that way. It’s coming to an end. You trust me to take care of it?”

  Oh, God. I want to tell him I’d trust him with anything.

  My life, my future, my heart.

  But there’s still one thing holding me back, and I bite my lip. “It’s not that, Leo. It’s—”

  “Deanna. I know. Don’t ever think I’d leave your little sis behind, woman.” There’s a teasing edge in his voice, but I can tell how deadly serious he is underneath it. “As far as I’m concerned, the two of you are a package deal. So let’s get married and adopt her as ours.”

  I know he’s teasing, using awkward humor in that way he has to take my mind off my worries and make me laugh, but my heart still jumps at the idea.

  Married?

  Me and Leo, together forever, happy somewhere that isn’t here.

  I’m a little scared to tell him what I’m thinking.

  A little scared I might chase him off, wanting too much, pushing too fast.

  So since I can’t say anything, I draw him down to me, rising up on my toes to kiss his cheek.

  Only, he catches me before my lips find his swarthy skin and close-cropped beard, and suddenly his mouth claims mine, and I’m gasping, trembling, swept away in the ambush of his searing kiss.

  I’ve kissed boys before. Leo may be my first real boyfriend, real lover, but in high school there were dates and a few messy pecks in the back seats of cars and clumsy hands everywhere.

  Kisses that were sweet but messy, breathless and wonderful because they were the first time and still so precious and new.

  But nothing—and I mean nothing—has ever hit me the way it does when Leo kisses.

  It’s like the difference between a single star and a flaming galaxy.

  All this bright light warms me up and down while his arms wrap tight and he lifts me off my feet.

  This is different, somehow.

  Different from the stolen moments of frantic lovemaking in my bedroom, trying to be silent so we don’t get caught. Different from the secretive moments in the back of his truck, in a hotel, in every stolen place where we can keep our secret, forbidden love as best we can.

  Because as he lays me down against the grass, surrounded by flowers with their petals rising up in a showering cloud around me as I fall against their soft stems, it’s not so secret anymore tonight.

  For the first time, I don’t feel like we have to hide.

  I don’t feel like our love is this shameful secret. Not when we’re sharing it out here under the open sky.

  So I draw him lower, slipping my arms around his neck, giving back his kiss with everything in me—wholeheartedly, hungrily, wildly.

  He’s such a beast, dead set on devouring me, inch by trembling inch.

  I barely have time to gasp. He’s taken my mouth in a savage, dominating kiss, sweeping over me like a storm before I even realize what’s happening.

  His growling heat rains down as he delves deeper, his tongue searching and stroking and seeking like my mouth is as sensitized inside as the rest of my body. I feel every lick and caress and stroke in a phantom echo stirring between my thighs, spearing up inside me with a grasping need.

  I’m already spreading myself open for him. His hand burrows under my miniskirt, dragging it up around my hips. Then with a low snarl against my mouth, Leo shreds it off, nearly splitting the seams.

  Holy hell!

  So this is why I’m here.

  This is why I’m hungry.

  This is why horny can’t do justice to Leo freaking Regis.

  He grabs my arms, raising them up so he can tear my tank top over my head and toss it aside. Exactly how I
want it now.

  Bare beneath the starlight.

  Naked and open, with nothing to hide.

  My lacy bra and panties barely last half a second before they’re gone too, delicate fabric biting into my skin before shearing off.

  I feel everything from the lace dragging into my flesh and scraping and tearing, to the grass blades tickling my back.

  But more than anything else, I feel him.

  His huge bulk pressing down on me, the fire in his body baking off him like he’s the sun at night, soaking into my skin, turning me inside out.

  I feel his strength, his roughness. Every hard muscle and those ginormous hands, his sheer size and the pressure of his body.

  But I feel his gentleness, too. It’s there in his fingers laced in my hair, stroking the back of my neck, in how he holds himself back just enough to make me gasp and writhe instead of crushing the breath from me.

  And I feel his love in every kiss.

  This man can barely breathe without me. Every single kiss is a desperate rush of air.

  Sure, it’s overwhelming, but I want to be overwhelmed.

  I want this—his hands on my body, his broad, coarse palms cupping my breasts, stroking my flesh, kneading my nipples until I feel like hot clay in his hands. And Lord, I’m ready and willing to be molded.

  Pleasure steals me away in sweet shocks.

  His mouth stamps my throat and sucks at my racing pulse. His calloused palms tease my nipples and make them swell. The zipper of his jeans teases against my stomach and around my navel, the hardness of his cock pressing against me through the denim, nudging in slow, wicked friction.

  I feel my thighs spread for him, baring me completely. Then the cool air caressing my wet folds, just the right quivering anticipation.

  “Leo,” I whisper, sinking my teeth into his lip.

  He growls real slow. So slow it’s like I’m melting one degree at a time as he teases me hotter.

  His tongue, his mouth, his teeth trail down my throat, over my collarbones, across my breasts, only stopping to suck at my nipples, drawing each bud in deep. His fingers shape my hips, digging into my ass, grasping my thighs, spreading me wider.

  Then his mouth goes home.

  My pussy throbs as his first fiery lick gives perfect friction.