Beast (A Righteous Outlaws Novel #4) (The Righteous Outlaws) by Savannah Rylan Page B

How did someone like that turn to a life of crime?
    He turned back and caught my eye. “You coming?” he asked.
    I nodded and fell into step with him. I let him set the pace since he was holding extra cargo, even if Beauty did weigh practically nothing. My mind was stuck on the tattoo. A few more chapters just got added to Beast’s story and now, more than ever, I wanted to unveil them.
    “So, what gets you out running so late at night?” he asked, and I let the million questions running through my head take a backseat. He was talking, asking questions. Maybe if I answered truthfully, we would talk more and I could have an opening to ask about his tattoo.
    “Couldn’t sleep. Had a lot on my mind. What about you?”
    “Same thing.” It amazed me how there wasn’t a hint of exertion in his words while mine came in quick breathy succession. It was as if we were at a standstill chatting instead of running at a good pace.
    “Anything you want to talk about?” I asked, even though I knew it was completely pointless.
    “No. You?”
    “No.”
    “My house is coming up, but I can jog you back to your place.”
    “That’s not necessary.”
    “I’d say something, but I don’t want to be accused of being sexist.”
    “Smart man,” I said, and flashed him a smile. He looked at me at that moment, and our eyes locked. There was so much darkness there, but it was as if I could almost see the light shining through. I wanted to reach out and grab for it, and pull it out of the depths of his soul where he banished it. “So, you were a Marine?” I figured it was now or never. I hoped my question would bring the light to the surface, but it did the exact opposite. A storm formed in his eyes, turning his dark eyes completely black.
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” he spat, as he came to a stop in front of a one-story ranch with a wraparound porch and a decent size front lawn. He let Beauty down, and she ran up the stairs of the porch to lie down on the wood.
    “I saw your tattoo,” I said. “What I don’t get is how you were clearly proud of being a marine. You had to be with a tattoo that large. But now you’re devoting your life to a club whose members are criminals. How does that happen?”
    “Shut up!” he growled. There was more than enough warning in his tone, but, once I became curious about something, I couldn’t stop myself from trying to get answers.
    “I serve the people of our community. You served the people of our country. You and I at one point were very similar. I’m just curious what changed you.”
    His lip curled and his breathing quickened. A vein pulsed in his neck as red-hot anger spread up his neck and across his face. I reached out, grabbing his bicep and hoping to offer a truce or something to show him I was being genuine. There was no motive behind my questions just general curiosity.
    He turned his eyes to my hand, and he yanked his arm away from it. “Let’s get something straight here, darlin’. You and I were never similar. You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
    “Did something happen?” I asked stupidly, and then bit my tongue as I realized desperation for an answer had taken over control of my mouth. I was now treading on dangerous waters.
    The vein in his jaw ticked as his fists flexed at his side. I must have hit a nerve, which meant something did happen. But what? Was he in the war? If so, how many people did he see die? How many did he kill? Was that why he lacked remorse and regret? Because whatever happened to him during those years as a marine broke him down into an emotionless killer?
    I couldn’t help myself. I knew I was pushing, but I wanted to know what caused the change in him, so I looked him in the eye, and continued my interrogation.
    “Something did happen, didn’t it?”
    He ran a hand through his hair, his knuckles turning white under the tension. His teeth grinded together and he twisted away from me, storming toward the house. I