Beast (The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Grit Chapter #1)(3)

There were times he’d found himself thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t left, hadn’t come to the club. Bridget was his fucking stepsister, but he’d liked her. She held the innocence of a life he’d left behind.

“Beast?” Roxie said.

“What?”

“Your cell is ringing.”

He’d been so fucking stuck in thinking about Bridget that he hadn’t heard his own cell phone going off.

Pushing Roxie out of the way, he lifted up, and pulled his cell from his pocket.

“Beast here,” he said.

“I’m at the diner. Will you come here so we can talk, maybe pick me up?” Bridget asked.

“You’re in Grit already?”

“Yes. Please, I don’t want to be here too long.”

She was sniffling, and thinking about her crying pissed him off. “I’m on my way.”

Disconnecting the call, he released a sigh.

“What’s up, baby?” Roxie asked, shaking her tits. What little erection he had was gone. What was it with Bridget always affecting him?

“I’ve got to head on out.”

“We’ll pick this up later?” Roxie asked

If he could be bothered to

It had been a long fucking time since he’d last seen Bridget. He didn’t know if he’d even recognize her.

The last time he saw her she had blonde hair and blue eyes filled with life, with hope.

“Do you want me to go to your room and wait for you? Keep your bed nice and warm?”

“Nah, go keep the Brothers company.”

She pouted, but got to her feet, and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you, no matter what you want.” She gave him a wink and left him alone. Roxie was a decent woman, even is she was a club whore.

Grabbing his keys, he made his way out of the Grit Chapter clubhouse. He was suddenly so damn nervous, and it pissed him off.

Bridget had left town, left him like everyone else.

You left her first, asshole.

“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his hair and exhaled loudly.

There was no way he was going to let her make him nervous. They were strangers now.

Straddling his bike, he headed out of the clubhouse toward the only diner in town.

He didn’t have a fucking clue what he was going to do when he saw her again. What surprised him the most was the fact she’d come to him and not to their parents.

Parking his bike, he climbed off, and made his way into the diner. Glancing around the interior, he cursed, and then zeroed in on her. Her hair was no longer blonde but black, and it was long, curving around her waist. She wore a pair of jeans with the knees torn, and the shirt pressed her tits together, showcasing her large cleavage.

The young innocent girl he remembered was gone, and in her place, was a woman who knew about life, which was clear by her face and the air around her. He didn’t know if he liked that.

She grabbed her bag, threw down some cash, and walked toward him. “I’m in trouble, and I need your help.”



Beast hadn’t taken her back to the clubhouse, and Bridget didn’t know how she felt about that. Instead, he’d taken her back to his house. Sitting at the table, she bit her lip and waited for the interrogation to start. At her feet was her bag, which held her passport, money, and a few clothes. She’d never been on the run, and she didn’t know what to take with her.

“What’s going on, Bridge?” Beast asked, taking a seat. “What’s with all the changes?” He pointed at her hair and clothes.

“I’m not the same person you last saw. I grew up.”

“And got into trouble. Fine, you grew up, got a pair of tits, an ass, and an attitude. What trouble you in?”

“I worked for a guy Francis Cole; you ever heard of him?” He shook his head. “You might know him as Francis Cole-Rodriguez.” She saw him tense.

“I know him. What I want to know is how you know him, and how the fuck you came to work for a guy involved in the fucking mafia!”

Tears sprang into her eyes since this still made her feel like a fool. “I was straight out of college, fresh, young, and a total idiot. I took a job as an accountant at a Vegas casino. I did such a good job that I worked up the ranks until I became his personal accountant. All that time, I thought I was working for a corporate businessman. As his accountant, I put the numbers together and dealt with his taxes and such. One night, I was working late, and, erm, one of his accounts didn’t add up. I went to look for him, and...” She had to stop. It was just too much.

“You witnessed something your sweet ass shouldn’t have?”

“I heard screams, and when I walked into his private office, I watched him, erm, I watched him kill a man.” Bridget hadn’t stayed to see. She’d run to her apartment, and when Rafe, her fiancé and Francis’ oldest son, had called, she’d answered.

Rafe had wanted to meet her to talk. She had been such an idiot. She’d gone to meet him, thinking he’d never hurt her, thinking he loved her. When she’d started working for Francis, Rafe had always flirted with her, trying to impress her by showing her hidden ways into their restaurants.

She didn’t know why, but her gut had told her to be wary and silent, so she did. Bridget had discovered them talking about her death. Francis was sad to see her go, and so was Rafe, she’d been a decent fuck according to him.