Country music poured from the open door and for a moment I wanted to turn back. Human noises and scents were too much for someone with my senses, but this was where they flocked to binge drink and make stupid choices and I was ready to make some stupid choices too.
This was my first time coming directly after a run, and though the beast was sated, my senses were still heightened, my skin tingling from the change. Last call was only a few hours away and the crowd would probably be thinner than I liked.
But I needed…something. Deep down that hollow gnawed at me, hungry for an unknown desire. My insides crackled the way the air did before a storm. Pressure building. Tense in anticipation.
As soon as I walked through the door, I knew tonight would be different. Was it the energy in the air or just my overstimulated brain, aware of every drop of sweat and muttered voice?
A small crowd of men lingered at the end of the bar and my eyes were drawn there, scanning the commotion. There were two roughnecks—their leathery skin and wrecked hands always gave it away—and a wannabe cowboy sipping beer and sitting too close to an unfamiliar woman.
The woman was laughing, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder, and catching the light above her. For a heartbeat her attention flitted my way and her light eyes sparkled with tipsy flirtation.
Warmth enveloped me. My vision shifted. The beast was there, watching through my gaze in complete and utter stillness.
I took a half-step back, startled by his sudden presence. He was always there, right under the surface. Watching for me to stumble, to lose my grip for even a moment. That grip was iron-clad. I never fumbled. Not in decades.
He wasn’t fighting me now. For the first time in my life, he felt like—like a passenger. Content to stay where he was. To observe this newcomer.
I swallowed, forcing myself onto a barstool. I angled my body to keep her in my sight, catching her in my peripherals.
She was cut differently than the type who wandered in here. Classy and well-groomed, her shoulders lifted in a poised posture. Though her breasts were on display, I could see by her outfit that it wasn’t intentional. Her clothing was modest, the designer logos too expensive for a bar perched between a sleazy motel and a boat launch.
Shifting away, I waved to the bartender and ordered a drink. A little competition made the chase more fun, but I wasn’t about to step between three other men just to snag her attention. Desperation was beneath me.
Unfortunately, she was the only woman in the entire bar, so the others were too distracted by the chance for female company to pay me any mind.
My eyes kept migrating her way over the top of my whiskey glass. Her cheeks were rosy, her skin so lustrous it glowed. It was a struggle not to stare at her, especially when she glanced my way with a playful smile.
I sipped my drink, swallowing my displeasure with it when she got to her feet and accepted a roughneck’s hand. He tugged her onto the dance floor, grinding against her.
My skin went taut. The beast was no longer satisfied with observation.
Jealousy was no stranger to me. I was territorial in all aspects of my life, even when I didn’t want to be. From the outside, my pursuit of real estate appeared to others to be smart business decisions.
The reality was that this place once belonged to me. The land many of these new vacation homes were built on was part ofthe Barbeaux homestead before my father sold it off in his final hateful act toward my brothers and me.
And when I pursued a woman despite the man seated beside her at the bar, it was because I’d already decided what I wanted, and I was at the mercy of that desire.
That was what made these late-night excursions so risky. Some nights, it was just good fun. A distraction. Others, I was on the edge of violence, gritting my teeth to hold myself together.
The risk didn’t stop me. Maybe it should have tonight.
Clearly, coming here after letting the beast run was a bad idea. I dropped my drink on the bar with a fifty and moved to leave. I’d been standing next to my empty bar stool for longer than I realized and when I allowed myself one more look, the woman was gone.
Deep inside of me, the beast unfurled. The hunt wasn’t over yet.
My prey was quick-stepping to the hallway that led to the restrooms, an eager roughneck on her heels. A growl escaped despite my tight hold on the beast, so vicious that a man three seats down whipped his head in my direction.
Control evaded me as I marched after the vanishing couple, ready to tear the roughneck’s head from his body in a completely insane and unexplainable rage. Somehow I managed to halt myself just outside the door, cooling the molten fury in my veins long enough to think logically. This woman was none of my business—
I growled again and my insides jolted the way they did before I became the monster that haunted my every waking moment.
The beast was finally fighting me.
That was nothing new. He fought me constantly. Even in my sleep, I would wake with a start, skin feeling too tight as the opportunistic monster tried to take my place.
He hated me, and how powerful I was. The feeling was mutual.
This was different than his usual fury. It felt more directed. Focused.