The Beast Within

by Rachel M Raithby

  Pinning her arms above her head with one hand, his other fondled her breasts, tweaking her nipples, sending sharp shocks of electricity to her core. In that moment, Aster owned her. He possessed her body with savage need, his movements hard and demanding. The look in his eyes of a man unhinged, of a man who’d given in to the wildness inside.

  Never once did she feel afraid or not want his possession. She welcomed it, gave herself over to him completely, encouraged him to give her more until they were both racing toward the edge, lost to their passion, and falling into oblivion together.

  ****

  Becca half registered Aster leaving for work the next morning. Mumbling as he kissed her, she rolled over, dragging the thick duvet with her onto the warm patch Aster had left behind. Slipping deeply back into the dream she’d been reluctant to leave, Becca lived the life she longed for in her sleep.

  She dreamed of the cabin, containing not only Aster’s things but hers. A book shelf in the corner for the books she’d always wanted to own. A porch swing out back on the covered deck for them to enjoy long summer nights on. A puppy, one she’d rescued from a pound, like Aster had rescued her. In this dream, Becca knew happiness. Each day brought her joy and love. Each day brought her the opposite of what reality did.

  Becca woke with an emptiness inside her. Her heart ached as she sat up, pulling the duvet with her and tucking it under her arms. Folding her legs, Becca rested her chin on her knees as she glanced around the room she’d just dreamed her and Aster shared. It surprised Becca how quickly Aster had lodged himself into her heart. Over her life, she’d been in many homes, some nicer than others, and not once had she ever imagined staying. She’d felt like an imposter in every one, yet here, it felt like she belonged.

  Maybe Alex won’t come find me.

  Fists clenching at the stupid thought, Becca kicked at the duvet with a huff and jumped off the bed. Goosebumps appeared over her skin as the cold air hit her naked body. Shuddering when the cold affected more than just her skin, it seemed to penetrate inside, freezing her heart, and chilling any hope she’d had to the core.

  “This is temporary, Becca,” she hissed to herself, eyes staring hard at her reflection. Turning away, she headed for the shower, no longer able to look at herself. On the outside, her body was slowly healing; cuts scabbed over, bruises fading to yellowy, green, yet on the inside, her wounds grew, her heart bleeding.

  The water stung as it hit her skin. Sucking in a breath, she gritted her teeth until it eased. Stretching her neck from side to side, Becca rubbed at her shoulder, massaging the sore muscle as best as she could. She’d woken feeling stiff, her body weak and vulnerable.

  Shutting off the water, Becca stepped out, wrapping a towel around her hair and another around her middle. Finding the shopping bags by the door where Aster had dropped them the night before, she took them into the bedroom and emptied the contents onto the bed. Picking up a fresh pair of yoga pants, she ripped off the tag and pulled them on, then instead of wearing a T-shirt she’d bought, Becca padded across to Aster’s closet and rolled the glass doors to the side. Running her fingers over his clothes, she stopped when her skin met soft, almost buttery cotton. Pulling the shirt from its hanger, Becca inspected the fine pinstripes of moss green on cream. Satisfied, she slipped her arms into the shirt. Buttoning it up, she rolled the sleeves to her forearms then headed for the kitchen, leaving the contents of her shopping scattered across his bed.

  Filling the kettle with water and lighting the stove, Becca left it heating up and headed to the back door. It opened with some effort making Becca think Aster didn’t often come out the back of his cabin. Off the back was a small, covered deck. To one side was a small table, littered with autumn leaves, and leaning against the railing were two folded wooden chairs. Two steps led down to a small patch of grass, which was overgrown and scattered with leaves, with a fire pit in the center. The fire pit was also full of leaves and looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. Beyond that looked to be endless trees. Though if she really listened, Becca was sure she heard running water.

  Rushing inside as the kettle whistled, Becca added coffee granules to a mug, poured in some milk and followed with the boiling water. Taking a blanket from the sofa, she headed back outside, the steaming coffee in her hand. Putting her mug down and the blanket over the railing surrounding the deck, Becca lifted one of the chairs. It creaked as she forced it open, the wood swollen with age. Sitting looking out over the forest around her, the blanket over her knees, Becca sipped at her coffee and contemplated her next move.

  While the money she’d taken from Alex seemed a lot, Becca wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would last her forever. Eventually she’d have to stop running and try to find a job, a place to live.

  Maybe I’ll get a new identity and leave the country.

  Laughing, Becca took another sip of her drink. The warm, dark liquid slid down her throat heating her from the inside. The longer Becca sat still, the more her mind went around. She continued to tell herself she couldn’t stay in Woodland Creek, that she had to keep moving or Alex would find her, but as she’d thought only moments before, she couldn’t run forever. So why not stop here? Woodland Creek was a small town, in an isolated area; Alex might never find her.

  Stop, Bec. She shook her head sadly, standing up. You’ve known Aster a few days. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want you to stay, she chastised herself.

  Pulling the blanket around her shoulders, Becca wandered to the steps and took a seat. Gazing at the trees, she tried to think of anything but her next move. Concentrating instead on each sip of coffee and the beautiful scenery around her, she picked out the many different colors in the trees, pictured painting each golden leaf in its unique shade. Imagined the distant sound of water belonging to a waterfall; streams of clear water falling from cracks in a cliff face, creating frothy white pools below.

  Sighing deeply, Becca gulped the last of her coffee and headed inside. Taking her time, drawing out each task as she went, Becca set about making herself some breakfast. Aster’s cupboards were pretty bare, but she found half a loaf of bread and a scraping of butter in the fridge. Even taking her time though, all too soon, the toast was ready and gone. Wandering his cabin restlessly, Becca took in its contents. After several laps, Becca was beginning to feel most of the things inside the cabin had been here when Aster had arrived. Imagining him arriving in the dark of night, running from the death of a woman he hardly knew, but felt responsible for, she thought he’d maybe planned to only stay a few days. He’d probably arrived with as few things as her and years later, he still hadn’t made the place his home.

  “You’re an idiot, Becca,” she said aloud. “Aster might have lived here for years, but in his head, he’s still running. You’re as bad as each other.”

  Maybe he’ll come with me?

  “Stop it!” Needing to escape, Becca stomped to the door, slipped her feet into her boots, and her arms into her jacket. Yanking the door with an angry huff, Becca stormed out, head down and collided with a solid chest.

  “Bec? Where are you rushing off to?”

  “Aster?” Lifting her head, Becca took a small step back. “What are you doing here?”

  A grin spread over his face, momentarily melting her frustration. “I live here.”

  “I know that,” she huffed. “But you should be at work.”

  “I’m on my lunch break.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eleven thirty, why?”

  “Oh, no reason. I thought it was earlier, that’s all.”

  “You’ve probably been sleeping all morning, hey? You were dead to the world when I left.” When Becca didn’t respond, Aster continued, “So shall we go inside, or were you going somewhere?”

  “What? Oh, yeah.” She turned around and headed for the door she’d slammed shut only moments before. “I just needed some air. I was getting claustrophobic with nothing to do.”

  “Oh, well, I brought you something that mig
ht help with that.”

  Glancing at Aster, Becca couldn’t help smiling at the excitement in his voice. “What did you get me?”

  “Here.”

  Becca took the paper bag he offered. Opening it up, she peered inside. A huge smile spread on her face as she saw the contents. “Aster, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing special. Just thought it would keep you entertained.”

  Taking the sketch book and pencils from the bag, Becca walked to the sofa and took a seat. Flipping the pages, she breathed in the new paper smell. “It’s special to me, Aster. No one has ever bought me anything that wasn’t a bribe, or came with expectations I didn’t want to give.”

  Aster went silent. Becca looked up to see an unreadable expression on his face and worried she’d said too much, revealed how much she longed to stay with him, what he meant after only a short time, but then his eyes softened and he reached out a hand for her.

  “Come here.”

  Taking his hand, he pulled her up and she went into his arms. Their lips met and it was the first kiss they’d shared since the night before. Becca’s body came to life. Pressing herself closer to him, Becca tightened her hold on his shoulders, an impatient sound escaping her mouth when she couldn’t get close enough.

  “Shit,” Aster muttered, breaking their hold. “I’ve got to get back.” He sucked in a breath. “But hell, I just want to strip you naked and devour you instead.”

  “Go.” Becca sighed, pushing lightly on his chest. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Will you?” he asked, dipping his head slightly to catch her eye. “Not gonna run?”

  “Not yet.” She laughed. “Go on, go, before you’re late.”

  “All right, I’m going.”

  Aster headed for the door and Becca followed, but as she took a step, something stuck to her foot. “Ugh, Aster, you’ve trailed sawdust everywhere,” Becca moaned, dusting off her feet.

  “Sorry,” he laughed, looking sheepish. “Well, you’ll have something to do now, and you can clean all your girl crap off my bed while you’re at it, too.”

  Dancing out of her way, Aster dashed for the door as Becca chased after him. Shaking her head, her smile wide, she called to Aster as he climbed into his truck. “Don’t think I’m ever going to be a good, little house wife, cleaning while you go to work.”

  His laughter was covered by the roar of his truck, his only answer a sly wink as he drove away.

  Driving down the road, Aster gripped the wheel tighter. The muscle beneath his skin shifted uncomfortably as the beast within voiced his anger.

  ‘Not yet.’ Becca had said the reply jokingly, but the truth of the matter was, she did plan to leave. The connection between them changed nothing, not the past or the future. He was still hiding his true self, and the demons Becca was running from remained.

  If he showed Becca who he really was, if he allowed his Minotaur control, she’d know he could protect her. She’d have no reason to run, yet Aster couldn’t shake the fear that she still might, just from him instead.

  Turning into Creek Lumber, Aster parked and climbed from his truck, his fears a heavy weight in his gut and his beast barely leashed. Gritting his teeth, his jaw grinding painfully, Aster avoided his work colleagues, knowing one idiot would be all it would take to reveal himself, not only to Becca, but the entire town.

  Becca ran her fingers over the sketchpad Aster had given her, a smile on her face and a painful happiness in her chest. It was only a sketchpad and some pencils, but to Becca it was so much more. It was a chance for her to connect a past pleasure she’d forgotten existed, it was a chance for her to be finally more than a woman on the run.

  Sliding her feet into her boots, Becca slipped her jacket on, and with the blanket, sketchpad and pencils in her arms, headed into the backyard in search of the water she could hear. There was a slight chill in the air, and the ground beneath her feet was wet from the storm the night before. Making her way carefully through the trees, careful not to trip or become tangled in the dense undergrowth, Becca soon warmed up and found her way to the water source.

  Breaking through the tree line, Becca sucked in a breath at the beauty of the river before her. Swollen and gushing from the recent rain, the water thundered by and swept around a sharp bend in the distance. There were no man-made trails beside the river, but the bank was relatively clear, and Becca itched to capture the curve in the river on paper. Slowly, she walked, watching her every step, staying as far from the river edge as possible. Her footwear wasn’t really suitable for the terrain. Making a mental note to buy some walking boots and ask Aster to show her where he liked to run, she felt light, happy and free of troubles as she shook out the blanket and took a seat upon it, ready to draw. Leaning against the tree at her back, Becca shifted her weight slightly so as to not lean on her sore hip. Bending her knees, she opened the sketchpad to the first page and nestled it against them.

  Taking a pencil, Becca lifted her head. Taking a deep breath, she gazed at the scenery around her. Letting her breath go, it blew from her in a rush, dispelling any lingering tension. Her pencil hit paper, scratching its first line. Awkward and out of practice, it took Becca a while to relax. The pencil felt foreign in her fingers, the lines and shading on the paper not as she’d hoped. Ripping the page from her pad with a heavy sigh, she scrunched it up, tossing it to the side and tried again.

  Hours later and with a small pile of screwed-up sheets besides her, Becca had finally found her zone. She saw nothing but the churning water racing around the bend, frothing as it parted around rocks in the river, or crashed against the grassy bank. She’d noted every shade of grass, the changing shadows from the trees, each dip in the earth and slope of the ground.

  Eyes flicking from scene to paper every few seconds, her hand sketched in quick flowing movements, capturing a moment in time. Becca didn’t note the rapidly setting sun, or the chill creeping into her bones. Time had no meaning as she drew, connecting with a part of herself she never thought she’d find again.

  Passion, freedom, all feelings she’d never hoped to feel. She’d forgotten what it had felt like to draw, the peace it had given as a young teenager. It had been the only way to survive, but now she’d had a taste, a glimmer of what her life could be, Becca wasn’t sure she could ever go back.

  She’d taken the first step from the prison she’d wrapped around her mind and heart, but each step would be deadlier than the last, because the reason she’d been in the prison in the first place still existed, no matter how hard she tried to pretend it didn’t.

  Grabbing a pizza and some wine on his way home from work, Aster’s blood fizzled with anticipation, the drive up to his cabin seeming far longer than it should. His day at work had consisted of counting every minute until he could clock off and return to Becca. That and attempting not to kill anyone who happened to talk to him. The Minotaur within Aster grew impatient. It’s only desire to claim what it saw as his. Aster planned to slip out later in the night when Becca was safe asleep. Hoping that running himself ragged would calm the beast, even if for a few days.

  He was going to tell her the truth, but first he needed Becca to trust him fully. He needed her to want to stay, even though she thought she couldn’t. When that time came, and Aster would make sure it would, he’d show her what he was, and how it was the answer to her troubles.

  Blood racing and with a smile on his face, Aster hopped from his truck, the pizza in one hand and the bottles of wine in the other. Opening the front door, he pushed through and called Becca’s name.

  No answer.

  “Bec?”

  Aster’s heart lurched. “Becca, are you here?”

  Silence filled the empty space. Kicking the door shut, Aster wandered in, glancing at the bedroom on his way to the kitchen. Becca’s shopping was still strewn across his bed as it had been at lunchtime.

  Depositing the pizza and wine on the kitchen bench, Aster rummaged in his pocket for his ph
one and dialed her number. As it rang though in his ear, her phone vibrated on the bedside table. Heart steadily increasing its pace, Aster ended the call and retrieved her cell. It had only one contact entered. His. It hurt him to think out of everyone she’d ever known, the person she’d known for only a few days was the only contact entry she had. He’d thought he was alone, but Aster was beginning to see he didn’t truly know the meaning.

  Returning her cell next to her purse, Aster then walked to his closet. For a moment, he froze, frightened to discover if her backpack was still inside. A sound akin to a growl rumbled from his chest as his Minotaur rushed forward in his mind. Stop being a damn pussy. Sliding the glass panel back, he let out his breath when he spotted her bag. Picking it up, he looked inside, and sure enough, the envelope of money was inside.

  So you’ve not done a runner then.

  When his Minotaur pushed to the surface, Aster allowed it some control. His eyes changed color, glowing slightly as the shirt he wore grew tight. Picking up her scent, Aster followed the trail, heading out the back door. An abandoned mug sat on the table, a chair unfolded from where she’d sat.

  When was the last time I came out here?

  Tracking her, Aster continued down the steps and across his yard, heading into the forest.

  “Becca?” he called, his voice gritty with the edge of his beast. “What were you doing walking through here?” he whispered to himself.

  Opposite his cabin, across the road was a sign indicating walking trails. Aster couldn’t understand if she’d wanted to go explore, why she hadn’t taken a marked track. Fearing she may have become lost, or hurt herself in the dense forest, Aster picked up his pace. Ripping his shirt on trees as he ran past, Aster didn’t notice or care. Her scent headed nearer the river, and Aster’s only vision was of her falling into the cold swirling waters below.