Page 34 of The Beast

I close my eyes, hating this new reality. Never in a million years would I have believed back then that Gabe could hurt me. Now, it just is. It doesn’t even need a leap of faith. He’s not the Gabriel I knew. Which leaves one huge question—who the hell is he now?

I open my eyes as David takes my hands, his grip tight. “You need to stay away. Far away. Let lawyers handle it. And get Security to put a man on you.”

I just shake my head. “I can’t stay away from him.” The words come out quiet but certain. Even with all the question marks and fear, I can’t—no, I won’t— stay away.

“Have you lost your mind?” His expression is a cross between fury and confusion.

I shrug. “Does it matter?”

David is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is careful. Controlled. “I need to say something. And I need you to actually hear it.”

I frown, not sure where he’s going with that, but I nod.

He draws a deep breath, as if gathering courage, then shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“What?”

He grimaces. “I just worry. That’s all. I already told you, he’s a powder keg. I don’t want you getting burned.”

I squeeze his hand. “I love that you look out for me. Truly. But I’m a big girl now. You don’t have to be scared for me.”

“I’ll always worry. And I will always be here for you.”

I grin, forcing myself not to think of Gabe. “In that case, can you be here for some manual labor?”

He laughs. “I walked into that one.” He follows as I head to the back showroom, step through the arched entrance, and freeze.

The wall where Caged hung—where it’s hung for five years, where I’ve stood crying more times than I can count—is empty.

Now, there’s just a bare white wall, and four small holes where the mounting hardware used to be. Even the bronze plaque identifying the artist and the piece is gone.

Caged is gone.