Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)

“How about I help with your cuts?” Laurent tried to touch Beast’s forearm, but Beast made an abrupt turn, pacing between the wall and the disused fireplace like a lion Laurent has seen during a trip to the zoo earlier this summer. With his shoulders set and head lowered, Beast marched around his cage as if it could somehow unload the angry energy buzzing inside him. Maybe death at his hands would be better than having to choose between hanging from a noose and sentencing the man… he loved to die.

With no answer, Laurent tried again. “Beast, what were you doing here?”

Beast tossed the vest he had made for Laurent to the floor and grabbed Laurent’s cheeks. The stench of blood overflowed Laurent’s senses, but he didn’t dare look away from the intensity in Beast’s gaze. “I need him. I need him to give me something”

Laurent flinched, because he didn’t need to be told this anger was meant for him. He was the ‘something’ Beast wanted to be granted by the devil, and Laurent couldn’t bear hearing it, yet wouldn’t step away from Beast either. The urge to be close was visceral even when he sensed sticky blood on his cheeks.

“What if you can’t have it? What if the devil won’t grant it?” Laurent asked, even though his own goals were in contradiction to Beast’s. He would never again be anyone’s possession. Not Mr. Barnave’s, not Fane’s, not even Beast’s.

Beast licked his lips, leaning over Laurent with fire burning in his blue eyes. “I won’t rest until it’s mine,” he said, pushing his bloodstained fingers into Laurent’s hair.

Laurent stepped closer, so desperately needing to find a way out that would allow them both to stay together. “What can you possibly need so much? You have the club, friends, a good position. We live together in your home. We care for each other. But we are both free men, you have to allow me that.” When he reached out for Beast’s arm, his lover stepped back, and it stung so much Laurent quickly pulled his hand back as well.

Beast clenched and opened his hands so stiffly it looked as if his fingers might break. “You’re gonna run the moment someone else catches your eye, and you don’t want to commit because you fear retaliation. Admit it.”

Laurent rubbed his face, frustrated that this was what he had to deal with on top of what he’d found out from King and what the devil showed him. “I will not! But I will also not be your property. I refuse to.”

“Why? Why not? If you’re mine, nobody touches you. And I need you to be mine.” A muscle by Beast’s jaw pulsed as he gritted his teeth, his eyes pinning Laurent in place.

The words both hurt and soothed Laurent. Beast was desperate for him, maybe even felt the same way Laurent did. But what was Laurent to do with that? How was he to hand over his life when he’d fought so hard to get out of servitude. Did it even matter if in eleven days he would ultimately have to make a choice between himself and Beast?

The notion of Beast dying made Laurent’s eyes ache with unshed tears yet again. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Martina and wondered whether she would have still put herself first if King’s life were at stake?

Beast didn’t understand what it meant to live as somebody’s property. Even if Mr. Barnave had been a good master, who provided Laurent with a few coins now and again, gave him a decent place to sleep, every day Laurent had lived knowing that his life wasn’t his own, and that in the eyes of the law, Barnave could beat him like a dog.

Beast swallowed, watching him, equally silent. It was as if a wall has been erected between them and neither of them knew how to break through. Standing over the devil’s symbol etched into the floor only reminded Laurent of the pact. This was where he’d killed Fane, and this was where he would come back to if he failed at his task.

In the end, it was Beast who spoke first. “What do you want then?”

Laurent rushed the few steps to Beast and hugged him tightly despite Beast flinching as if Laurent’s touch revolted him. “I want to be close.”

Beast took several deep breaths, for the longest moment avoiding Laurent’s eyes as if they could infect him with consumption. But then he grabbed Laurent’s forearm and moved his hands up, all the way to Laurent’s shoulders. “Close.”

“Nothing’s changed between us, Beast.” Laurent took a deep breath through his mouth to avoid crying. The impossible choice was choking him, and he couldn’t share his despair with the one person who mattered most. Could he choose between Beast and himself? Wasn’t Beast attempting just that by trying any means possible to trap Laurent at his side?