In the days after I move in with Travis, I think a lot about what he said regarding justice, and what it means. I decide he’s right. It’s not the same thing as law.

If I turned in Rock’s name with all the rest, the law would catch the club in its net.

Justice, on the other hand, would recognize that it was the Lords who helped bring down the trafficking ring in the first place.

I joined the FBI because I wanted justice for victims. Because I was one myself once, but I never got it.

Now I realize this isn’t what I want to do anymore. I don’t want to be a cog in a legal machine.

I want something more.

What that is, I’m not quite sure.

But I think maybe coming back to the town I fled — to face my demons — is the first step.

To face my demons, and to correct the biggest mistake I ever made.

For a few days, Travis takes care of me, even though I insist I’m able to manage by myself. He gives me the envelope with the names of the traffickers, and I call Lafontaine and feed it all to him, with enough detail that he has no choice but to send a team down to break open the case and arrest all those involved.

Mayor Jarred Holloway was one of the first to be arrested. When they seized his computer as part of the investigation, they ended up finding a cache of child pornography. Some of the videos and images were of kids who weren’t even in puberty yet. His wife, Annelise Holloway, was apparently traumatized by the whole affair. She immediately filed for divorce and full custody of their two daughters on the basis of the child porn in his possession.

As I promised Travis, I left Rock Anthony’s name out of the information I gave Lafontaine. I let the Lords of Carnage mete out their own justice, which in the end equaled death. Rock was found in a hotel room a couple of towns over, dead from a bullet to the head. The death was officially ruled a suicide. No further investigation was done.

Natalia’s father arrived from Ukraine to take her home. She was reunited with a few of the other girls from the trafficking ring, including another girl from Kiev, Katya. They gave full testimonies, before being sent back home on the FBI’s dime. I got to meet Katya, as well as most of the other girls who had been held captive. I even got to give Ashley her sparkly ring back. That girl was, and is, tough as nails. She was a witness at the trial, and gave a testimony so damning that it helped put the traffickers away for a good long time.

One of the other girls who was found as a result of breaking the case was the cousin of a woman who works at one of the local tattoo places in town. The girl, Zoe, wasn’t being held with the rest of them, but she was being prostituted by a man associated with the ring, in a shady area of Cleveland. She’s back at home now. Doing okay, I guess. Though it’s hard to imagine how she’s gonna go back to being just a little girl now. That’s true for all of them.

I hope they manage it.

A full-scale investigation into the Tanner Springs Police Department followed from the revelations that Chief Crup and Robert Johannsen were involved in the cover-up. Since Johannsen attempted to murder me to shut me up, and I ended up shooting him in self-defense, I was taken off the case almost immediately. I resigned from the agency shortly thereafter. Lafontaine didn’t try to stop me, and I didn’t expect him to.

There were some rumors going around in Tanner Springs about me being asked to join the police force afterwards. To help clean things up, and make sure the corruption was a thing of the past. The truth is, yes, I was asked. I turned them down. I don’t know exactly what my future plans are, but I think it’s safe to say that my law enforcement career is over.

Travis, at Angel’s request, accepted the position as VP of the club. When it came out that he and I were involved, and that I was FBI — ex-FBI — there was a little grumbling, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was that Angel quashed it immediately, saying that anyone who had a problem with me had a problem with him.

Isabel even brought me into the fold with the women of the club. Even though I wasn’t technically an old lady, they welcomed me with open arms — going so far as giving me shit about Beast and asking what it was like in bed with a monster like him.

I didn’t kiss and tell.

Not too much, anyway.

And when, a few weeks later, Gunner’s old lady Alix went into labor, I was right there at the hospital with everyone else.

It’s a girl, by the way. Her name is Olivia.

* * *

The day after the birth, Travis and I go back to the hospital to see the new family. Walking down the now-familiar halls, my mind keeps flashing to all the times I’ve been here since I got back to Tanner Springs. This is the first time that the reason we’re here is a good one. One full of hope for the future, unmarred by the pain of the past.

As we chat with a tired but radiant Alix, I look over at Gunner holding little Olivia. The baby seems impossibly small in his huge, muscled arms. I can’t help but glance at Travis — who’s the biggest member of the Lords by far — and wonder what it would look like to see him cradling an infant. Just at that moment, Travis glances over, and his eyes meet mine. I look away, not wanting him to read my thoughts. I feel heat rise to my cheeks as I listen to Alix tell me they’ve decided that Olivia’s middle name will be Lucy, after Gunner’s mom.

We don’t stay at the hospital too long. We know we’re only a couple people in a long line of well-wishers the three of them will have that day. So we say our goodbyes and tell them we’ll see them later. Then we leave them to prepare for the next visit.

On the way out, we pass by the hospital pharmacy. “You need any more pain pills, since we’re here?” Travis asks me.

“No,” I answer. “I still have a few left. And I think I’m healed enough to stop taking them, anyway. I can get by on Ibuprofen from here on out.”

We haven’t really talked about what would happen once I recovered from my injuries, Travis and I. Mostly, we’ve just continued on like our living situation was totally normal. He and I have been sleeping in the same bed since that first night. At first, I was in too much agony to do anything except try to find a comfortable position so I wouldn’t lie awake all night. But once the pain began to subside a little, having him so near me without touching me started to feel a little like torture. I knew he was feeling the same way because I saw the evidence through the tight boxer-briefs he wore to bed. But I also knew he wasn’t going to touch me until he was sure he wouldn’t hurt me. Eventually, neither one of us could take it anymore. We’ve been having careful but still explosive sex since then — much more often than my doctor would probably advise.

“Gun looks happy as hell,” Travis murmurs as he opens the passenger-side door of the car for me to climb inside. “Never would have imagined him as a dad before he met Alix.”

“They’re a great fit for each other,” I agree. “You know, I would have thought he’d be all about having a boy, but he looks pretty enamored with little Olivia.”

Travis walks to the other side and gets in. He starts the car and puts it in gear. “You ever think about kids?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Not really,” I say. And it’s true. But right now, with him asking it, my heart constricts a little at the idea of me being a family with Travis and a little one. Just like Gunner and Alix.

“Me neither,” Travis replies.

And it hurts a little bit to hear it, even though I have no right to feel that way.

That night, we have a low-key evening. I make dinner, and then we settle in to watch a movie. My thoughts have been a jumble ever since we visited Alix and Gunner this afternoon. If Travis notices, he doesn’t say anything. He’s really good about letting me take things at my own pace, physically and otherwise.

The movie is some dumb action flick, and when it’s over, I realize that pretty soon we’ll be turning the lights out and going to bed. Suddenly, I know there’s something I have to say to Travis, and the thought of going one more minute without doing it is absolutely unbearable.

“Travis,” I choke out. “I need to tell you something.”

He stops mid-rise from the couch and sits back down. “Okay. Shoot,” he says, leaning back and crossing one ankle over his knee.

“No. I mean, I need to talk to you. About… everything.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “That’s a hell of a lot of ground to cover. You might want to narrow it down a little.”

But I can’t bear to joke around about this. Not right now. I swallow the lump in my throat and look at him. Instantly, my eyes fill with tears. Dammit, I don’t want to cry when I do this. I have to pull it together.

“Shit, is there something wrong?” he asks, alarmed. “You in pain? You need some Ibuprofen?”

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s just…” I take a shuddering breath. “I need to explain why I left. I know I’ve already apologized. But I need you to know why I did what I did.”

Travis’s eyes cloud, but he nods once. “Okay.”

“Please, just…” my voice sinks to a whisper. I clear my throat and try again. “Please just listen, and let me get through it. And try not to judge.”

More than anything, I want the reassuring feel of Travis’s touch right now. But I know I have to get through this whole thing first. And if he does touch me I’m sure I’ll start bawling. So I scoot my body away from his about a foot, and turn toward him.

“You know I left on my eighteenth birthday,” I begin, looking down at my hands. “And you know I stopped talking to you about a month before that.” I gulp. “I know I never gave you an explanation, and I know you probably think I was mad at you. But I wasn’t.

“You and I were getting… closer,” I continue. “Closer to each other, and closer to… something I wanted and didn’t want at the same time.

“I was afraid of sex. I think you probably knew that. But I wanted it, too.” I pull my eyes up to his. “I wanted you, Travis. I did. My body wanted you. And I was getting closer to trusting you. And trusting that it would be all right when we had sex. That it wouldn’t change anything — or at least that it wouldn’t change anything for the worse.

“But what I didn’t tell you was the reason I was afraid of sex.” I break my gaze and look back down at my hands again. Even though I’m almost thirty years old, suddenly I feel like a child. “When I was a little girl, my stepdad would sometimes come into my room at night and touch me when he’d been drinking.” Next to me, I hear Travis’s sharp intake of breath. I force myself to rush on. “He never did anything more than just touch me, but it scared me. It made me scared to be alone with men. It made me feel like I couldn’t trust any man to not be like that. Because I didn’t know. He seemed like all the other dads and stepdads, on the surface. Most of the time, anyway.

“I never told my mom about it. I didn’t know how. Eventually, she and my stepdad broke up, over something else. And then my mom died.” I take in a deep breath, and let it out raggedly. Here goes. “And I got sent to foster care. And…”

My voice breaks. I’ve never told anyone this. I’ve never even said it out loud.

“And… I was afraid of Mr. Bonner. But at first I thought it was just me being paranoid. I thought it was just my imagination. But… then one night, when Mrs. Bonner was out… when I came home he jumped me, and… he raped me on the stairs.”

“Jesus Christ, Brooke,” Travis growls, but I shake my head furiously.

“No, no! Don’t say anything! Otherwise I won’t be able to get it out!” A sob cuts off my last word, and tears start streaming down my face. I fight to keep my voice, and keep going. “After that night, I was too afraid to face you again. I couldn’t bear the fact that if I did, I’d have to tell you what had happened. And I knew I would have to, because I’d have to explain why I couldn’t go any further. Why I couldn’t let you touch me anymore. Because I couldn’t stand it.” I shake my head as the tears continue to come. “And I didn’t want to ruin the only good thing that I had! And I didn’t want you to think I was dirty, because if you did I would hate myself so much!”

I’m sobbing openly now, but I still have more to say. So I do, in ragged, wracking bursts. “I hated Mr. Bonner, for ruining us! And I hated myself, for being too afraid to trust you after that! I was afraid that if I let you go any farther, you’d do the… the same thing he had… I was afraid you’d rape me, too, and I knew it wasn’t true, but I still couldn’t get it out of my head!”

I bury my face in my hands and weep. Travis sits silently, thank God, and doesn’t try to touch me. He lets me get it all out — all the pain I’ve been holding in for years. All the regret. All the remorse. He just sits there with me.

Finally, I manage to quiet my tears. I pull my hands from my face and force myself to look at him.

Travis’s face is tortured. Pain, sorrow, and rage do battle in his features. But I know his anger isn’t at me. It’s at the past.

“I’m so sorry, Travis,” I half-whisper. “I waited until my eighteenth birthday. Until it was legal for me to leave, and no one could stop me. And that’s what I did.” My eyes caress his face. “I didn’t want to leave you,” I moan. “But I had to. I loved you, Travis. I was so in love with you. I was just too afraid to be with you.”

“Brooke,” he rasps, his voice hoarse with emotion. “My God. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

“I wasted so much time…” I murmur. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain of it all. “I know you were mad at me, Travis, and you had every right to be. I wish I’d been stronger. I wish I’d been strong enough to tell you.”

“Brooke. Look at me,” he says.

I open my eyes and tilt my tear-stained face toward his. He cups my chin in his hand. After so long without any physical contact, his touch makes me shiver.

“I was mad. Yes,” he tells me. “Because I was fucking crazy about you. Losing you hurt like a bitch.” He shakes his head and laughs softly. “Jesus, I’d never felt anything like it. I thought I’d never get over you. But the past is the past. And I’m not angry anymore.” He gazes down at me. His blue eyes are soothing, like cool water. “But I’ll tell you this. I’m not letting you go again. I’m not letting some piece of shit pervert waste one more second of our time.”

Slowly, gently, his mouth comes down on mine. I answer his kiss eagerly, and like always, the intensity of it makes me dizzy. When he pulls away, I’m gasping. I reach up and hold onto his strong arms. They pull me toward him, enfolding me like a fortress.

“I love you, Travis,” I whisper. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I love you, babe,” he murmurs. “Now come on.”

Then before I realize what’s happening, I’m flying through the air. A second later, he’s standing, and I’m in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I laugh, happiness flooding through me like a river.

“I’m takin’ you to bed,” he growls, heading for the bedroom. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up for, and I’m startin’ right now.”

That night, he takes me long and slow, even though I insist I’m mostly healed. But he’s in control in the bedroom, just like always.

Afterward, I lie in his arms and listen to the night.

Wondering how, after all this time, I got so lucky.

I know from time to time, I’ll look back and have to fight the sadness that comes with the knowledge that we spent so many years apart. But I also know Travis doesn’t want me thinking like that. And in the end, maybe he’s right. I’m with him now, and that’s all that really matters. There was never anyone else for me, anyway.

And if I never let myself really get close to any other man, I think maybe it was because I was always supposed to be with Travis.

My Beast.