Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

“So it’s pretty fucking obvious why you killed him,” another man spoke, his voice elevated, though not yelling. I recognized that voice—it was one of the assholes, Little O or Big O maybe? “Any fucking idiot with a brain can see the point you were making.” My brows knit together in confusion. I stared at shadows on the hardwood, trying to understand.

“Good. Maybe the next person will think before taking what doesn’t belong to them,” Beast replied. I stilled. What doesn’t belong to them? That night flashed into my brain, when Beast had come into the room after. I had felt his need so clearly, it had been like a tangible entity in the room—the need to mark me, claim me so no one else could. Now here he was saying that he’d proclaimed it to the world.

My gut stirred, my throat went dry, and I swallowed. I knew I should be afraid, but the reason I couldn’t move was not fear.

“The council will be up your ass,” someone said, cutting into my thoughts. Pretty Boy, maybe? I couldn’t be sure.

Beast laughed. “They’d have to get off theirs first.”

“You committed an honor killing over a slave, man. It’s…wrong.” I gasped, then quickly covered my mouth. I couldn’t help it. What was an honor killing and why had Beast done it for me? A part of me screamed out the answer but just as quickly I snuffed that part out.

With my hand over my mouth I waited for more information but it was just silence, complete and utter dead silence. I could only hear the sound of my heart beat. It would have been a good time to tiptoe back, but I waited, wondering if I would discover more.

It was like a drug to me, the knowledge. Like the journal, I craved knowing more.

Then the door flung open. Beast was in the doorway, looking completely unsurprised to see me.

“Hello Frankie.”

“I was just…” I stuttered. Looking behind him, I could see a room that appeared to be a study. It was huge, as was the theme in the penthouse, with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the rest of the apartment. There was an imposing desk made of what appeared to be all types of wood. It was beautiful.

Oh and there were the assholes, except for that silent, thin one—he was missing. In his place was a man I’d never seen before, with a shaved head and dark skin. He was different than the others, somehow less threatening. His features weren’t hardened like theirs.

“Getting something from the kitchen,” I added, realizing I hadn’t finished my sentence. In one single motion Beast slammed the door shut behind him and grabbed me by the hair. I gasped, reaching for his hands to alleviate the pressure. He pulled me away and I stumbled, my feet slipping against the floor.

He dragged me down the stairs and I was sure my neck would crack with the way he pulled and tugged. My heels dragged against the carpet, against the hardwood, until we reached his bedroom. He pushed open the door to his bedroom and threw me on the bed.

I gasped, gathering air in big, heaving breaths that left my lungs feeling raw. It was all I could do to focus on my breathing, to focus on returning my body to homeostasis. When I felt a bit more steady, I glanced up, and his look, the feral intensity with which he regarded me, shook me back to instability.

“I think you’re getting entirely too comfortable here,” he said and then walked away. He shut the door behind him. I heard a clicking noise I assumed was a lock. I thought to Gabby sitting on the patio. What would happen to her baby? Would she have to go home to the man who beat her? I felt horrible, like an idiot. Both she and Nikolai had warned me.

You’re still failing to grasp how things work around here.

Nikolai’s words blasted through me then ricocheted around my body. It was in that moment that I should?

?ve come back to reality. I should’ve realized what both he and Gabby had been trying to warn me about: the Beast was not a man. No matter how many times he let me go to the library, he would still be a Beast.

But I still didn’t see it.

I was sure I was done hoping.

But I still wasn’t broken.

Sitting on the bed, what Gabby said came to mind. I searched around for cameras. She’d said they would look like little black bugs. In the corner where the ceiling and the wall joined, I spotted one. Now that I knew what to look for, I couldn’t miss it. It was just as she said, like a shiny black bug. A round beetle. I quickly looked away, so as not to draw attention to my staring. Casually I snooped, trying to find more.

On the nightstand one stuck to a statue, as if leering at me. I rubbed my arms for warmth. They probably were leering at me. I looked away, trying not to focus on the cameras, trying to act normal. I wondered if Gabby had been sent home, back to her shitty husband, the one that gave her all those bruises.

I wondered if she’d run away already.

Then the door opened and all my thoughts dissolved. Beast stalked over to me, his aura dark, sucking up the shadows as he came to me.

“Do you remember what I said to you, Frankie?” he asked, our shins colliding. I shook my head, lying. I remembered perfectly what he’d said to me. I would never forget it. He’d told me he’d stop trying to persuade me that he wasn’t a monster.

I wasn’t aware he’d been trying in the first place.

He grinned and said, “Too bad.”

Pinned beneath the Beast, his hands worked black magic on me. His lips seared curses into my skin. I moaned. It was getting a lot harder not to moan.