When he’s finished helping me dress, he grabs a pale blue, shrink-wrapped jumpsuit from a shelf and I help him get into it.
I stand back and look at him, suddenly understanding the phrase ‘my heart is in my throat’. My throat feels so full, I can’t even breathe. My heart is pounding everywhere.
“Now you leave, okay?” he says.
I nod, but I don’t mean it. I can’t leave him here.
“Maybe I could break you out,” I whisper.
“Angel, don’t get arrogant. It’s a fucking miracle that you got in here.” If it weren’t for the role he played here these last few years, I wouldn’t have gotten by with it.
He takes my hand in his and tugs me toward the hall.
“We’ve gotta hurry, okay?”
I nod, and say a silent prayer: “Please, God. Please. Please save him. I’ll give up anything but Adrian.”
Beast kisses me once more on my damp hair. Then he opens the door into the hall. He steps out before me, and he stops in place immediately, causing me to bump into his back.
When I see what’s stopped him, I flush so hot sweat pops out all over me.
There is Robert Ryan, the renegade DA. He’s got a small gun pointed at Beast’s chest. On the end is a long, black silencer.
*
This is how it happens when your life changes.
Something starts things off. Some kind of trigger. A stupid decision—or a bold one? A desperate prayer? I don’t know.
All I know is, I promise you, before Beast kicks the gun out of Ryan’s hand—
Before Ryan rushes forward and stabs Beast in the neck with a long needle—
Before Beast hits the floor with a smack and clutches his neck, and starts breathing really, really fast—
Before he gasps, “Oh fuck. Angel.”—
Before one of his hands reaches up toward me as a dying look crosses his face—
I know already that I’m going to grab the gun and shoot him in the head.
It doesn’t happen so straightforwardly, of course.
When Beast starts gasping and the DA scoops his gun up off the floor, I jump on Ryan’s back and jerk his neck as hard as I can to the left. He grunts and drops the gun, and I jump down off his back, scooping it off the floor faster than I even knew that I could move.
I take a few steps back. For a moment, I am stunned by Beast’s loud gasping. It sends a flood of adrenaline through my veins, which helps me hold the gun steady as I lift it and point it at Ryan’s face.
“You little bitch. You wouldn’t.”
The truth is, I don’t think I can pull the trigger, but I want to scare him. To make him leave.
“You’re sick,” I start. My outstretched arms tremble, but I don’t move the gun from where it’s aimed. “Hanging these horrific pictures everywhere. It’s immoral and disgusting! Now, get him some help!” I wave the gun at Beast. His wide eyes cling to mine.
Then the DA dives for me. My fingers just react. The gun goes off.
Beast is up. I’m screaming. I’m being lifted into his strong arms. Blood is on him and me. Blood, just like the night we met.
He looks down at me, and I know what will happen here as well.
We run.
#
Part four, which should be the final part, will be out September 22. If you want to get more details or just keep track of what I’m putting out and when, sign up for my mailing list. http://ellajamesbooks.us8.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=a22900f40502ee2fc5671a7bc&id=e7b30fab36
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I’d like to thank my incredible team: my publicist; my agent; my PA, my editor. You are all patient beyond measure, and helpful and encouraging, and I love you for it. My author friends; my loyal, encouraging, and fabulous readers; my fabulous family—you guys make my world turn. Thanks for always being here for me.
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<3,
Ella
Ella James, Beast, Part Three
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