In the Arms of the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 5)

Beast’s mouth curled into a smile, and he pulled Laurent closer, relieved by the powerful sense of belonging when their bodies touched. There was nothing he wanted more than to soothe his husband’s worries. He would wipe away tears until there were none left. “That’s okay. He’s in a shell. Nothing can happen to him inside a locker. You’ll see him first thing tomorrow.”

“No, it’s not fine! I forgot about him. I’m so irresponsible. I talked about him to Elliot on the way home, I was taking care of Xavier, and not once did I think about where my own son is.” Laurent sobbed, hugging Beast as if they’d never argued.

Beast looked to the cramped room where most of his friends were gathered, watching the endless stream of concrete drizzle underground. His continued presence there would change nothing, but there was a place where he was needed. He pulled Laurent toward the uneven steps leading to the first floor. “You’re too hard on yourself. He is still an egg, so he doesn’t interact with you. Quite different from a regular baby.”

“Beast, you don’t understand. The egg is so large already. He could hatch at any moment. We don’t know when. He will be an infant and can’t survive on his own. He could die in that locker just because I was eager to go home faster.”

Beast was so focused on Laurent’s words that he forgot about the low ceiling and hit his head so hard he ended up biting his tongue.

Laurent rubbed his eyes once they stood outside, next to the gargoyle statue on which King had died what felt like a lifetime ago. He was glad Knight killed his ghost, because he could just imagine King impaled on the gargoyle’s horn, yet still cackling his head off at their distress.

“I called Mr. Linde, but he’s not picking up. I don’t know what to do.”

Beast rubbed his head where it would surely soon grow a swollen lump, but his attention was back on Laurent. “How many times have you tried?”

Laurent swallowed a sob, rubbing wetness off his reddened features. “I don’t know... five? For all I know he could be on a date or watching a movie! And Marcel might choke to death if he hatches all alone, without anyone to assist him out of the shell. Beast, what should we do?”

Laurent’s fingers trembled where they touched Beast’s flesh. He was so upset, so terrified that there was no other choice for Beast but to deal with the problem. That was what he did best.

“We will get him. Calm down.”

*

Beast was covered from head to toe in generic overalls that used to belong to a Kings of Hell member who passed away a few years back. He had gloves, old shoes that could be disposed of, and a ski mask to cover his tattooed face.

“There’s cameras in the café and in the office. Please, make sure you’re not recognized,” Laurent begged from the passenger seat, stiff as a crash test dummy.

Beast squeezed the steering wheel when he saw the distant lights of Brecon. “If anything goes wrong, let’s meet at the playground. You know which one.”

It was the place he and Laurent considered the location of their first date, even though at the time Beast had been the only one to notice the sensual mood in the air when he introduced Laurent to Chinese takeout.

“Do you remember the code to my locker?” Laurent asked for the fourth time.

“I do. Zero, four, one, seven, for the month and year of your arrival,” Beast said to calm him, though he’d likely break the flimsy padlock with a mallet.

Beast needed to be calm about this. It had been a while since his last solo break-and-entry, but in small towns like Brecon nobody worried about replacing flimsy doors, like in the old days.

“Stay calm, but it’s a business, so it probably has an alarm in place. If I set it off, we won’t have much time. I’ll try not to get arrested,” he said as they passed the white concrete arch that marked the entryway into town. He thought this whole venture was crazy. Reckless. Unnecessary. But what if Laurent’s worries were legitimate, and Marcel really did hatch inside the locker on the one night he was alone?

And if something happened to their child because he refused to inconvenience himself by taking a small risk, could he have ever forgiven himself?

As dubious as Beast still was about fatherhood, Marcel was his. And he was Laurent’s. And regardless of his worries and anger, there was no way he wouldn’t learn to love something Laurent offered him.

“Please don’t talk about arrest even in jest. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I was the cause for your incarceration.” Laurent said, looking even paler than usual in the eerie light of street lamps.