Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

“Frankie Notte?” a man whispered at my side. I look to see who it was, but he added quickly, “Keep looking ahead.” I stared as the priest continued to read from the Bible, feeling hot despite the cold weather.

“My name is Levi, I’m an undercover cop at the 72nd precinct.” I didn’t respond. Gabby had never shared the name of the cop she was crushing on, but I had a gut feeling this Levi was him. I had no idea why he was at the funeral, blowing his cover to me, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like it.

“I helped cover up Giovani’s murder with Gabby,” he continued. Not very well, I thought, my eyes flashing to Gabby, face still invisible under her black veil, and then to Beast, who was still talking with a group of men I didn’t know.

“What do you want?” I hissed.

“It’s not what I want, it’s what you want,” he whispered. “I can help you. I want to help both of you.” In my peripheral I saw Beast walk away from the group of men and make his way back toward me.

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up,” I replied. “Go away.” I didn’t know if Levi did go away since I kept my eyes forward as directed, but he did at least shut the fuck up. The Beast settled next to me, my heart pounding. I focused on the priest, trying to act normal. A minute passed and I let out the breath I was holding.

Then I sucked it back in.

The Beast pulled me closer and my eyes popped open. He pulled me to his chest, covering me with his coat, and then lifted up the back of my dress. My eyes spun frantically in their sockets, wondering if anyone could see what was happening. They were all too busy paying attention to the priest. At least the guy—Levi—wasn’t next to me anymore.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. It was pointless, completely pointless to question the Beast. Why did I still think I had any control?

At least he somewhat hid what he was doing…unlike other times.

His cock was at my bare ass. Was he going to take me now? At a funeral? Hot tears branded my lids. People looked at me with sympathy, just another mourner. If only they knew.

He’d been ignoring me for days and of course now he chose to shower me with attention. It was sick and twisted, just his style. He didn’t enter me with his cock, though. Instead he snaked his hand around and slid his fingers under the lace of my lingerie.

His skin was so hot and that was all I could focus on. While my cheeks were numbed by the cold, his hot hand settled over my naked flesh. I swallowed, waiting. One long glide of his middle finger slowly separated my lips. I clenched, trying to keep his fingers still. That made him laugh.

“We’re at a funeral,” I said, mostly to myself. Just when I was sure I’d reached the bottom of his depravity, I realized he was bottomless.

I would never stop falling.

He chuckled, pulling me closer and entering me at the same time. “I’m bored.”

While the priest lamented a life lost too early, talked about heaven and those who would be lost to hell, the Beast fucked me with his finger. People cried around me, sniffed into handkerchiefs, and he rubbed me until I was slick and wet.

“Don’t act like you give a fuck about Giovani,” he whispered into my ear. “You covered up his murder.”

“Wh-why?” I stuttered against his ministrations. Why had he helped if he’d known I’d been lying the entire time? More importantly, what was I going to have to give up in return? I couldn’t think of much else I had left to give. The Beast didn’t respond, another question that would be left answerless.

“I’m going to make you scream. Here.” He pulled me against him, filling me with another finger.

“No,” I pleaded, but it was to myself, a cry to hold on to my sanity even though with each tweak and motion of his finger, my belly ached to lie back. Give in. Let go.

“Yes,” he growled. I bit my tongue as his thumb rubbed against my clit. I tried to breathe evenly as he slid gently along my folds, up and down, massaging me. I worried that I had become a game, that all he wanted was for me to come for him, and then I would be tossed aside. I had started wondering lately what it would mean to be tossed aside by the Beast. He wasn’t going to kill me, that was clear, so what was he going to do with me? What would happen if he really got bored with me?

It was too much living with the Beast. Worrying about what he would do to me, worrying about keeping my dignity, eventually giving in—my psyche just couldn’t handle it. It also didn’t help that he was actually pretty stellar in bed. Each time my body betrayed me, my mind moved closer to joining my body’s team.

Even here, at a freaking funeral, I couldn’t hold back the flood. As he rubbed me slowly, meticulously, a sigh left my mouth. He wanted me to scream, and I knew he was going to get his wish.

It was a lost cause, a war already decided.

The sparks had caught and I could feel myself going with them.

And when I opened my mouth and the scream finally fell, I fell to the ground as well—no, really, I actually fell. I was so fucking confused as the world shift sideways, my body colliding with the ground. Wet snow tickled my back and neck.

It took me a minute to come back to reality, and when I did, reality had changed. Beast was on top of me, the mourners were screaming.

Bullets were flying.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, staring up at him. His hand held my head, keeping me pressed to the wet, cold ground. His sharp chin was against my forehead as his eyes darted furiously around us.