In the Arms of the Beast

by K. A. Merikan

  Laurent had hoped he would be able to indulge in his love of the material guilt-free away from his own home, but he had to face the truth after Mr. Linde had showed him devastating videos on his phone. Turtles, fish, and birds killed by plastic trash. Disillusioned, Laurent had to face the reality of Marcel’s future.

  He would only live so long, but the generations to come needed a safe, clean world to thrive, and so, Laurent eventually applauded Mr. Linde’s effort in making the world less littered with plastic even if Laurent still remembered how he’d been first enamoured with the material.

  Laurent stole a moment when Mr. Linde wasn’t looking, pulled out his phone from the pinstripe apron, and smiled for a selfie by the coffee machine. He was about to send it to Nao when his gaze stopped at a different name at the top of the list.

  1Kai.

  Beast had put a number in front of his name, so it always showed up first. Laurent bit his lip at the memory of the first phone Beast had gotten him so they could always stay in touch. Laurent was already getting to grips with the new one, but he kept the old one out of sentiment.

  It was so hard to keep himself from informing Beast of the exciting things going on in his life, and in turn not knowing what Beast was doing. So Laurent devised the perfect crime.

  He sent the photo to Beast, because he wanted him to see how well he was doing, but followed it with a message moments later. Apologies, I meant to send this selfie to Nao.

  And right after that, he did send his friend the photo, so in case Beast asked her, Nao could say that she did indeed receive it while keeping her conscience clean. No one would find out the truth about Laurent’s deceit.

  He’d barely hidden his phone when the first customer arrived for their caffeine fix—as Tierra called it—but while Laurent knew ways of talking to people so they felt pampered, his thoughts remained with Beast. He imagined the moment his man received the autophotograph, struck by remorse over his behavior. Maybe he would apologize and beg Laurent to come back to him. Maybe he would learn to love Marcel too. But no matter how long Beast searched for their baby, he wouldn’t get to see him until Laurent came home. For now, the egg was safe in his locker.

  In his time, if a man wished to communicate with a friend who lived somewhere else, he needed to be patient. No letter could travel as fast as texts did, but while Laurent used to have all the patience, the phone created an itch inside him, a pressing need to check if Beast had read the message or maybe even answered.

  An hour into work, Laurent got acquainted with everyone’s names, and when business was slow, Mr. Linde showed him how to use the cash register, but the tension inside Laurent only grew. When he got assigned to cleaning tables, the screen dividing the space in two allowed him to steal a peek at his phone. His heart skipped a beat when he saw an unopened message, but it turned out to be from Nao.

  Looking good in that apron! <3

  Laurent wished Beast shared her sentiment. Deep in his heart, he knew they would work out something in terms of their relationship, but he had no idea what that something would be, and the impasse it created was making him miserable.

  The next customer was of the indecisive sort and asked Laurent in detail about all the products. It was getting a bit old, so when the bell rang, informing Laurent of a new customer’s arrival, his gaze was drawn to the entrance.

  He couldn’t have gotten hotter if lightning pierced the roof and hit him with its fire when he saw Beast enter wearing his nicest jeans and a soft black longsleeve worn under the cut that proclaimed him as the club president.

  Laurent stared at the muffins his customer was choosing between, but his ears were going red from the unexpected presence. What was Beast’s goal? Would he sit here all day in some insane bid at ‘protecting’ Laurent from the dangers of 2018, or did he come congratulate Laurent on his first day at work? Then again, why would he do that if they weren’t on speaking terms?

  Laurent focused all his attention on the customer in front of him, fully aware of Beast watching him like the handsomest of predators. “Are these for yourself, or someone else? Their taste should also be taken into account. Unless I could entice you with my personal favorite, raspberry and white chocolate. It’s indulgence like no other.”

  The customer smiled and leaned on the counter. “I like the way you speak about things. If I owned a company, I’d have employed you as the face of my brand,” he said just as Beast stood behind him in the short line.

  He didn’t even pretend he was interested in pastry and eyed Laurent instead. Well, he would have to wait, because Laurent was working. He wasn’t available whenever, the way Beast would have liked him to be.

  Laurent smiled at the muffin man. “That’s too kind. I only aim to give exceptional service. It is within my competence to offer a customer a sample of any cake or muffin. Could I interest you in such a treat?”

  The man leaned even closer, his eyes focused on Laurent in a way that felt familiar. Daring. The gaze was a rope, and it was trying to loop around him in an effort to make the catch.

  “I’m quite sure you could interest me in anything. The question is, could I interest you in giving me your number?”

  “No,” Beast said in a grim voice.

  Laurent rolled his eyes, but the truth was Beast was right. There was only one man for Laurent, but that did not mean said man needed to know it.

  The customer turned around, saying: “Excuse—” He sounded annoyed at first but changed his tune as soon as he saw Beast.

  Laurent shook his head. “There’s no need for this.”

  The muffin man actually stepped back. “Maybe we’ll talk another time. I’ll have what you said is best,” he said, struggling not to appear too intimidated, but there was no denying that Beast could be a fearsome presence, even when he didn’t want to appear so.

  “You are not going out with him,” Beast repeated in a booming tone that somehow managed to remain on the quiet side. His presence still drew the attention of the other patrons.

  To make matters worse, Tierra must have heard what was going on and butted in. “Excuse me, but this is a no-homophobia zone, big guy. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

  Laurent bit his lips, not sure what to do, so he gave the guy an extra muffin on the house and packed them all into a neat box. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mean any harm.”

  Beast directed his gaze at Tierra, who went visibly tense, even though she stood her ground. “I’m not homophobic. I’m gay, and this is none of your business.”

  Tierra frowned, as if things weren’t adding up in her head, but muffin man got more confident again, looking back at Beast as he put some money in the tip jar.

  “What’s your problem, then?”

  Laurent rubbed his forehead in frustration. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “He’s being rude.”

  “I’m his husband, so if you ask for his number one more time, I’m not gonna snap your fucking neck,” Beast said, leaning close in a way that was so menacing Laurent was ashamed that the display of jealousy stirred excitement deep inside him. No matter how much he tried to take the high road, his primitive instincts always got the best of him.

  Tierra whistled. “That’s your husband?”

  Muffin man didn’t bother to continue this exchange and left in a hurry, without waiting for his coffee.

  Laurent groaned. “Ex.”

  Beast’s big, meaty hand moved along the counter, and each one of the tattoos on it reminded Laurent of moments when he watched those same fingers touch his body.

  “I don’t remember getting divorce papers,” Beast said in a gruff voice.

  Mr. Linde must have also noticed the commotion, because to Laurent’s utter dread, he approached with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Is there an issue? I’m not afraid to call the police if necessary.”

  Laurent’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. “No, no! He is my husband. I’m so terribly sorry for all this trouble. Kenneth, I would be forever grateful if
you allowed me to take a minute off, so that I could talk to him.”

  Mr. Linde looked between Beast and Laurent and stepped behind the counter, wordlessly pushing Laurent out.

  Beast already headed for the door, muttering something that sounded like “So now I am your husband after all.”

  Laurent needed to move his legs faster if he wanted to catch up. He offered Mr. Linde an apologetic smile, but as soon as they were outside, Beast’s cologne sent his mind in a spin. Oh, how he wished he wasn’t so weak for this man. At least the public nature of this encounter, in front of the pretty old building with green siding, on the main street of Brecon, guaranteed he wouldn’t be tempted into Beast’s lusty arms again. Distance was key.

  “What are you doing here?” he whispered to Beast, glad for the warm weather, because he worked in a T-shirt.

  Beast frowned and shifted his weight, crossing his arms. “You send me a selfie pretending it was for someone else. Clichéd move, but effective. Does it mean want to talk? We can talk.”

  Laurent’s lips parted, and he stared up at Beast for far too long. He should have denied it. With every second of silence, he was losing this battle of wills. “I… I admit it,” he finally choked out. “I am vain and I wanted you to see my new uniform. There. Happy?”

  A smile curled Beast’s mouth. “Yes. You look…” He gestured toward Laurent with both hands. “You look very nice. You always do. And what do you do with it? Flirt with another guy right in front of my face.”

  Laurent pouted. “I was offering excellent customer service.”

  “Where I’m from it’s called something else,” Beast said in a lower voice, and when Laurent averted his gaze from the embarrassment of it all, he spotted Tierra and Mr. Linde watching them without an ounce of shame. They didn’t even bother to pretend they were working!

  “I am a man with a child on the way. Do you think I have the energy to flirt with strangers?” Or the capacity to actually be interested in anyone but you?

  Beast snorted. “I think you’re trying to tease me by flirting with strangers. Playing real dirty here.”

  Laurent flushed and crossed his arms. “So at least you know you were the reason for it. Either way, since we’re actually having a conversation, tell me what you have planned for the day, because I’m guessing you won’t be sitting here and scaring our custome—” he stilled when he realized what he was saying and touched Beast’s arm. So many times, he’d been witness to Beast getting rejected, lied to, asked to leave. He should have known better than suggest such things. “I didn’t mean it that way. You can be rude. And you’re the president of the Kings of Hell MC. People have reasons to feel intimidated by it.” His heart burst into a gallop when he thought he could have hurt Beast with his indelicate words.

  Beast sighed, looking away, but the damage must have been done already, because his eyes darkened. “I don’t care. I just want you to stop trying to alienate yourself from me. And calling me an ex? Really, Laurent?”

  Laurent groaned. “I don’t know anymore. What’s happening with the trees?” he was insistent on changing the topic, because the one at hand was giving him stomach ache.

  Beast remained silent for a bit too long. “Each of us has a job to do. You have too much to worry about anyway.”

  Laurent frowned, watching him more attentively. “Have Magpie’s machines arrived? Should I come?”

  Beast shook his head. “Those trees… they’re dangerous. Maybe it’s for the better that you’re safe here. I’ll take care of it.”

  That sounded ominous at best. All of a sudden, Laurent was desperate to hug Beast. “Wait here a moment.”

  Beast didn’t get time to answer, because Laurent rushed back into the café. “Kenneth, may I take that complimentary muffin I was promised?”

  Mr. Linde gestured to the treats with a smile and his eyebrows high, so Laurent packed up his favorite in a box and carried it outside.

  “Please think of me being all alone with Marcel when making choices that could end up fatal.” He handed Beast the muffin. “It’s the best one. You should try it. And the box has no plastic lining so you can safely recycle it,” he mumbled.

  Beast accepted the paper box, but Laurent ran back into the shop before Beast could convince him to drop everything and ride off on the back of his man’s bike. The same way he’d convinced him to not go to his driver’s licence exam.

  *

  Laurent could hardly think of anything but Beast in the following hours, but he knew he shouldn’t just drop everything and contact him again, particularly when the final moments of their conversation had suggested Beast had plans that he didn’t want to share. But Laurent wasn’t willing to be passive either, so once Mr. Linde ushered him from behind the counter for his lunch break, Laurent whipped out the journal he used for his notes about Baal, the trees, and everything else that could affect their future.

  While slowly eating a quiche with goat’s cheese and pear, he looked through the pages, trying to find a pattern. What did Baal truly want? What was it that gave the creatures their power?

  He had a sip of the nice liquorice tea Tierra had made for him before going home, and started a list on a clean page.

  Orgies

  Jewels

  Parties

  Excessive alcohol

  Knight fighting

  People suffering in the asylum

  What was the connection? Was it the indulgence? The lack of control? In his years with Mr. Barnave, he’d learned all about systems of organizing things, and knew that sometimes the key wasn’t obvious. One person wanted their books systematized by date of publishing, another by topic, when someone else chose to have them sorted by color of book cover—which Laurent disapproved of, but that was another matter.

  “What are you working on?” asked a smooth male voice. Laurent already knew who it was, so he wasn’t surprised when his other co-worker, who replaced Tierra for the rest of the day, sat at the same table, choosing the chair next to Laurent instead of taking the place across from him like a civilized man would have done.

  Then again, Laurent had already formed an opinion of Michael. He was lazy and… well, mostly lazy. He had a funny horseshoe-shaped moustache, so maybe the reason for his employment was Mr. Linde’s appreciation of facial hair.

  Laurent closed his notebook to avoid prying eyes. “It’s a sort of puzzle I’m trying to crack.”

  “Do show. I’m really good at Sudoku,” Michael said. He wore a peppery cologne that was so intense Laurent wondered how he could breathe having that scent clinging to him all day.

  Laurent hesitated, but then again, what did he have to lose? An outsider’s eye could always bring new light to an issue.

  “Orgies, acquiring wealth, fights, feasts, worshipping the devil, and murder. What do they all have in common?”

  Michael smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Whoa! That’s some hardcore puzzle. Okay. Hm. They’re not all crimes, but they’re all considered bad. Except feasts I suppose, unless you’re stuffing yourself to excess. And depending on how you ‘acquire wealth’. They’re all vices I suppose.”

  Laurent pondered that surprisingly insightful comment. He’d known himself that the demon wouldn’t have asked for wholesome entertainment, but the debauchery didn’t all carry the same weight. An orgy was immoral, but not evil the same way murder was. What was it that gave Baal his power?

  Michael, poked Laurent’s elbow. “I know what they have in common! Your ex.” He winked, startling Laurent.

  “How rude!” Laurent exclaimed, his mind blank from the offence.

  Michael raised his hands defensively, but he didn’t back away. “Okay, I know it must be a touchy subject, but I’ve heard what happened earlier. When I was young and stupid, I’d go to those parties with my friends. Must be fun and games until you’re actually a partner to one of those guys.”

  Laurent frowned. “What is your meaning?”

  Michael rested his elbows on the table, closer to Laur
ent. “You don’t look like the kind of guy who gets involved in what they do over there.”

  “If you mean the lewdness, then indeed, I do not participate. It’s distasteful.”

  “Is that why you two split up? Or was it because he’s controlling and scary?” Michael asked as if he had any idea what he was talking about. “I once saw him knock a guy out with one punch. Wouldn’t want to be on the other side of his fist.”

  Laurent looked into Michael’s eyes with a frown. “This is my husband you’re talking about. I’m sure he had good reason for whatever he did.”

  “Just like you had a reason to leave him, I’m sure. I don’t mind tatts, but I think it tells you a lot about a person when they put them on their face and hands, effectively making themselves unemployable. You don’t have to defend him anymore.”

  Laurent couldn’t believe the rudeness he was facing. Maybe with his employer, he would have bitten his tongue, but this man was his equal, even if he had more experience. He had no right to interfere into Laurent’s issues this way. “You don’t know him, so… shut up,” he said, finding it hard to choose politer words in the face of such ugliness. “I only said he was my ex in anger. He might not look it, but he’s a good-hearted man.” Even if he didn’t always live on the right side of the law, and Laurent needed to make his peace with that. “It’s so presumptuous of you to come to me and say such vile things about the man I love.”

  Michael leaned back in the chair. “I heard you were saved from a cult, but it looks like you just joined another one.”

  Laurent got up, wishing for lightning to strike Michael and relieve Laurent of his buzzing fury. “I find it strange that a man like you would judge others on their looks.”

  Laurent knew he achieved his goal of taking the high road while kicking some dirt into the face of the man behind him when Michael froze with his lips parted.