In the kitchen, I hunted for packs of hot chocolate. I tore open the pantry, rifling through shelves, but couldn’t find anything. Figured. The cocoa did taste like that ridiculously expensive kind, the kind made on a stove—the kind that’s literally melted chocolate. Of course there wasn’t going to be some packet of dyed sugar lying around. I sighed, setting the pitcher down.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Jesus!” I jumped at the voice, spinning around to see Nikolai.
“You need to go back to the patio.” His face was stern, the scar twisted with a scowl. Blond curls fell over his harsh glare.
“I’m getting hot chocolate.” I raised the pitcher up for emphasis.
“Let me do it.” He reached to grab it from me but I held it from him.
“You and Gabby,” I said. “What the fuck? I can get my own hot chocolate.” I’d gotten, I don’t know, comfy. It sounds weird, because jail is the antithesis of comfort, but Beast had been letting me go to and from the rooms and the library without complaint. I’d settled into a bit of a routine and my fear was starting to subside.
That comfort was a mistake.
My ease was wrong.
I’d forgotten that I was to latch onto the fear and never let it go. Fear was my compass. Without it, I was walking blind.
Nikolai’s frown deepened. “You’re still failing to grasp how things work around here.” It was my turn to frown.
“And how do they work?” I asked, setting the pitcher down. The metal bottom collided with the counter with a resounding clang. Nikolai’s frown momentarily dissipated. He looked scared, eyes widening, gaze flashing up to the second floor. For a moment my gut clenched in fear and I followed his gaze. When I saw nothing, my gut returned to normal.
“Who are you?” I probed. “What do you want from me?”
“I told you I was your friend,” Nikolai whispered.
“No you didn’t,” I hissed, lowering my voice to match. “You said you had secrets too. Hitler had secrets, so did Mussolini, but I wouldn’t consider them friends.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You can trust me.”
I scoffed. “How?”
“Has the Beast said anything to you about the journal? Have you been punished?”
I said nothing. Then I remembered what Gabby had just told me. “You could have just told me about the cameras.”
“I wasn’t sure if you could be trusted,” Nikolai replied. “Like I said, you’re not the only one with secrets.”
I folded my arms. Nikolai took the opportunity to reach around me and snatch the pitcher. “I am your friend, Frankie,” he said. “I deleted and have been deleting incriminating videos of you.”
“Why?” I asked. Then seconds later I said, “What incriminating videos?” All I could think of was the journal. Were there other things I’d been doing that would get me in trouble? I scanned through my memories like looking through an old Rolodex.
“I’m going to refill this pitcher. You’re going to go back to the patio.” I opened my mouth to rebut, but Nikolai added, “There are cameras all over this house, Frankie. We’re in a blind spot. He’s up in his office, watching the feed. If you keep pushing this, I won’t be able to erase what he’s already seen. Go back and play your role.” Nikolai took the pitcher and walked over to the stove. The conversation was clearly over, at least on his end, but I stayed for a moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, I walked away.
The entire time I walked back, I felt that I was being watched. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if the Beast just sat somewhere, watching me, like some version of God. I was nearly to the hallway when a clipped British accent drifted down the stairs. I should have ignored it, but then I heard “Arlo”. His name still made my gut clench. The Beast said he’d taken care of him, but why should I trust him? I looked up the stairs. I wasn’t allowed to walk there.
My curiosity and dread got the better of me. Looking behind me to where Nikolai was still in the kitchen, I climbed the stairs. What did Nikolai really know, anyway? It wasn’t like the Beast could see me all the time. He wasn’t really God.
My stupid, naive comfort.
I arrived at a big, wooden door and a voice drifted out. “The council found out about Arlo.”
“And?” The Beast’s annoyed voice drew me closer. I hesitated. If he was already pissed, I definitely didn’t want him catching me.
“His severed cock was shoved into his mouth.” My eyes widened. I should have turned around and run back to the patio but I had to know. Why was he found that way? What happened?
“I still fail to grasp what you’re trying to say,” Beast replied. A man scoffed.