Page 51 of The Beast

His eyes find mine, and there’s nothing there. Nothing I can reach. He reaches out to stroke my cheek, and I have to force myself not to melt on the spot. “Surprise, bitch. You should have finished me when you had the chance, because I don’t do things by half-measures.”

“So that’s it?” Leo’s voice is rough. “You’re just going to keep destroying yourself? Keep punishing her for something she didn’t do?”

“I don’t remember you being so gullible, little brother.” Gabriel’s smile is thin and cruel.

“Gabriel, please.” I hate the way my voice breaks. Hate the tears burning in my eyes.

“Leave.” He turns his back on us, facing Caged. Apropos, I suppose. Right now, I feel as trapped as that woman in the painting.

Leo’s hand closes on my arm. Gentle but firm.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “We’re done here.”

I want to fight. Want to scream. Want to grab Gabriel by the shoulders and shake him until he sees me—really sees me.

But Leo’s already guiding me toward the door, and I know he’s right. Gabriel’s shut us out. Completely.

We’re almost to the door when I stop and turn to him.

“I’m not giving up on you,” I say to his back. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care how hard you push me away. I’m going to prove the truth, and when I do, you’re going to have to live with what you’ve done.”

He doesn’t turn around.

He doesn’t say a word.

And I surrender to defeat as Leo pulls me through the door.

The walk back through the corridors feels endless. The sounds of the fight club seem louder now, more brutal. Or maybe that’s just how everything feels when your heart’s been ripped out.

We ride the elevator in silence, then step out into the lobby, and move in silence past the bar crowd and the soft jazz, until we reach the doors and exit into the cool evening air.

“That was a disaster,” I say.

“No.” Leo’s voice is quiet. “It wasn’t.”

I stare at him. “Are you bonkers? He threw us out.”

“Give it time.” Leo’s jaw is tight, but there’s something in his eyes—not hope exactly, but something close. “Trust me.”

The car is waiting. We slide in, and the city blurs past the windows. Something soft builds inside me. It’s not hope. Not really.

But Leo saw something in there. And right now, that’s all I have.

“So what do we do?” I ask.

“We give him time.” Leo stares out the window. “And we find proof. Something he can’t ignore. Something that forces him to see the truth whether he wants to or not.”

“And if we can’t?”

He’s quiet for a long moment.

“Then I’ll drag him back to the family kicking and screaming,” he says finally. “Because I didn’t spend five years grieving my brother just to lose him again to his own stubbornness.”

“Good,” I say. “I’ll help you drag him.”