Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  A prisoner with a smile.

  Sighing, I turned from the window to put on my dress. I noticed there was no lingerie hung up. That wasn’t a mistake, and it didn’t mean I could pick my own; it meant he wanted me to go without. Unless otherwise laid out, I always had to go without. As I slid the dress on, I noticed the bust was sheer with sequined strings of green thread barely covering my nipples.

  I paled.

  Yeah. Fucking. Right.

  I took the dress off and hunted for lingerie. There was a backless, champagne-colored Agent Provocateur teddy with a deep enough V. Perfect.

  Just as I finished dressing, the door swung open.

  Beast looked me up and down, his gaze practically turning the dress to ashes at my feet.

  “What?” I snapped. “I put on the fucking dress.” I had half a second to register his raised brow before he pushed me against the wall, shoving his hand up the slit in my dress. I shoved my hands behind my back, flat against the wall, struggling to find purchase as he roamed underneath the dress.

  “What else did you put on?” he pressed.

  “Nothing,” I gasped. Asshole, I added with my eyes, and he knew it. His own narrowed and his fingers slid underneath the lace garment. His finger probed my slit and my fingers spread against the wall, as if I could find a secret doorknob and fall through.

  “Hmm…” he murmured. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

  “Fuck. You,” I spat, as his fingers arched higher inside of me. I waited for him to punish me for swearing, but he only raised a brow.

  “You might be nicer to me Frankie, if you’d like to get your Christmas present. It would be a shame to have to send him back.”

  “Him? What do you mean him?” I demanded, pushing the breathlessness in my voice into that tiny box inside my head that I planned to burn with acid later. Abruptly he dropped me, my skin feeling too cold for my liking, my thighs icy. He called for Nikolai and I folded my arms.

  A moment later Nikolai appeared, a box with holes in his hand, red bow on top. He handed it to me and I took it warily, caution tape around my heart.

  “What is this?” I asked, examining the box.

  With folded arms, Beast said, “Open it.”

  I heard meowing and my gut dropped.

  “Open it,” he repeated.

  I quickly tore through the box and opened it. It was a kitten…a small, black kitten, so cute and innocent. I stared into the box, scared to touch it. Memories of Cleary came rushing back. I was all at once hurt but so, so excited. It struggled to crawl out of the box, tripping and falling over itself. I should have just picked it up, it was such a kind and gentle gesture, but seeing a cat so similar to Cleary had me reeling. I felt the pain all over again.

  “I don’t understand…” I glanced up at the Beast. Why had he given me a kitten, and one so like Cleary? He must not have liked my response, because his eyes narrowed and he quickly snatched the animal from me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, reaching for the bundle of black fur.

  “You don’t want it.” Beast handed the kitten to Nikolai without even looking at it.

  “I don’t understand,” I pleaded. It had nothing to do with wanting, I just needed a minute to readjust. It didn’t mean I didn’t want the kitten. It was a fucking kitten! I just needed a minute to understand what was happening, but Beast wasn’t going to give me that.

  My gaze traveled from the kitten in Nikolai’s arms to Beast, my confusion turning to fury.

  It was like losing Cleary all over again.

  “What is wrong with you?” I pushed him. When that did nothing to sway him, I pushed him again, and again, and again. He gripped me by the wrists then let go. “It’s not enough to take a piece of my heart, you have to obliterate it?” I fell to my knees. I’d tried so hard to stay strong, or at least put up the front. Why was he doing this? Why give me a kitten and then take it away faster than a lightning strike?

  First Papa and now this? My heart couldn’t take it.

  Nikolai walked away with the mewling kitten as I wiped mascara eyes on my forearm.

  “You’re an absolute monster,” I declared. “Is this why you were so nice to me before? Is this why you wanted to know about me? I bet you didn’t even want to give me that kitten. You just wanted to watch me cry.” My eyes were blurry with tears when I looked up at him. “Well congratulations. You succeeded.” My words sounded strangled and weird to my own ears, cracked, high and wobbly; choked by the effort of trying not to completely lose myself to sobs. His eyes narrowed with some kind of emotion. I thought maybe he was going to say something, but then he left. I fell into sobs.

  “Your mascara is smeared, darling,” a woman said to me, her face a megawatt plastic smile. “I have a cloth in my bag that can clear that right up.” She grasped me by the arm and led me away from my dark corner—my haven. My stare strayed from her coiffed blonde hair down to her polished blood-red nails and back up to the pristine white dress she wore.

  I wanted to tell her I didn’t care if my mascara was smeared, but I was too numb. Over and over again I thought about that kitten. Would it go to another home? Maybe it would go to wherever Cleary was. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, smearing the mascara more. Wherever the black cat went, it was better than where I was. Cute and cuddly things weren’t meant for hell.

  No, I didn’t care that my mascara was smeared.

  It was my war paint.

  No one would bother me.

  From my perch in the corner, I had been able to see everything and no one noticed me. Beast’s stark white penthouse had been decorated to look like a winter wonderland. A huge, real Christmas tree was erect in the middle of it all, jutting up the three stories. Distantly I wondered how they got the thing inside the building, all the way up to the fucking penthouse. It was decorated with white ornaments and the branches appeared frosted. Angels, snowflakes, shimmering bulbs, ornaments that appeared to be dotted with diamonds—oh wait, this was the Beast we were talking about, they probably were dotted with diamonds—and ethereal tinsel draped it. Pale gold was the only other color in the place, and it was just an accent.

  There was even a swing band. It was so happy, the trombone and saxophone all cheerful and lively. It felt wrong, like having a bris at a funeral. The singer, a woman with a twenties-style outfit and hairdo, was singing classic Christmas music. Everyone was also wearing white—a memo that Beast had apparently been determined for me to miss.

  Mostly I saw how this wasn’t the kind of party I’d become accustomed to. These weren’t the people Beast normally had over. They didn’t have a cloud of shadow following them constantly. They weren’t reanimated gargoyles.

  They were…people.

  They were…political, even. I recognized the governor as one of the attendants, and that made me very, very uneasy.

  The woman pulled me to the wall next to the bar. While she dug into her purse, I swiped a flute of champagne. Taking a swig, I looked from her to the governor and thought back to the other “parties” I’d been present at, unsure which hell I preferred.

  “Is this your first fundraiser?” she asked, dabbing away the remnants of the Beast’s “present” from my lids. I nodded. She laughed, putting the cloth back into her purse. “They can be quite tedious. I’m Ellie, Governor Dubois’s wife. Who should we blame for your being here?”

  I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded at the Beast, who was sandwiched between a man with chocolate locks and crystal blue eyes and Governor Dubois. Ellie’s smile flickered but she plastered it back so quickly I almost didn’t notice.

  “Ah,” she said. “Well, we better give him a stern talking to.” I knew that wouldn’t happen. Ellie was already pulling away.

  “Wait,” I asked. “Is that what this is? A fundraiser?”

  “Of course not, it’s a party.” She smiled, winked, and walked away. Feeling that gross, sticky feeling only politicians can leave behind, I turned to leave. Fuck this party. I
f Beast wanted to punish me, then so be it. I was so through with all of this, with the charade. I was halfway to my room when I was grabbed by the arm.

  “Stop, Nikolai.” I brushed him off me, not even surprised. It was sort of like how if you watched enough scary movies, they stopped scaring you. I’d lived in hell long enough that arm grabbing wasn’t shocking. I imagined if I lived a few more months here, I wouldn’t even cry at things like the kitten.

  I shivered; somehow that didn’t seem like a good thing. I put my palm to the my door, deciding not to think about it, when Nikolai said to my back, “I’ve found your father.”

  I spun around. “What do you mean you’ve found him?"

  “He was missing and I’ve secured his location. He is in a safe place.” Nikolai’s celery stare pierced through the shadowy hallway.

  My eyes widened. “He was missing? For how long?”

  “I told you there was something you needed to be made aware of,” he said, as if it was on me for not knowing.

  "What? You mean the Beast has no idea where he is? I can leave and he won’t die?” Nikolai nodded impassively, as if responding to whether I’d just asked him if that was his natural hair color. Fury filled me and I ran to him, shoving so hard he stumbled back.

  “This is fucking ridiculous. You knew this whole time?” When Nikolai nodded again, I gave him another hard shove. “I knew you weren’t a friend. You fucking snake.” Nikolai was like stone against my pushes. I hated him even more. Whatever he was planning, whatever he was using Gabby and me for, I knew right then it was not to benefit me. I was simply a pawn.

  “I was waiting for the right time,” he said simply.

  I scoffed. “Go fuck yourself.” I didn’t wait to hear what excuses he had for me. I finished walking to my room and slammed the door in his face.

  I was fucking leaving.

  I didn’t really have much to pack as I hadn’t gotten to pack in the first place, but I figured since I was probably going to be on the run, I should grab a few things. Beast had said he’d let me leave, but he’d said a lot of things—like that Papa was safe and accounted for, for instance.

  I hurriedly grabbed things I could use, practical things like warm pants and sweaters. I didn’t have a lot of practical things in my closet—most of the shit was haute couture and high heels—but there were a few. I paused, surveying the room. My heart hammered in my chest. It had only been a few weeks, but I was inexplicably tied. I had to go though. I couldn’t stay. That went beyond insanity, it was suicide.

  Nikolai said my papa was safe, so Beast had nothing on me. Staying was just…

  I shook my head.

  I had to go.

  I turned back to the overstuffed bag when I heard the door open behind me. Ice-cold fear ran through my veins, my gut stilled, and I just knew he was behind me.

  Oh God.

  I knew he’d said I could go, but somehow I also knew he would try to stop me. I knew, because there was a part of me trying to stop me as well. An insane, deadly part of me that didn’t want to go. A part that was yelling to throw the bag back in the closet.

  Fear was rushing through my body as I turned to see him. He walked toward me, but he was unsteady and he paused at my dresser. He knocked a few items off and I flinched. I knew my absence wouldn’t go unnoticed. I expected punishment but God, I was so stupid. I’d completely given myself up.

  He faltered the last few feet then he dropped to his knees.

  “I’m sorry, mio cuore,” he murmured into my dress, grasping the shimmering fabric between his fingers. “I’m sorry.” He kneaded his head into my dress then turned to face me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re all I have, Frankie.” He went silent for a moment and I listened to everything—the muted laughter outside, my stuttered breath, the band outside singing Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” with their muffled trumpet and saxophone.

  “I’ll have a blue Christmas without you…” he sang into my thighs. He chuckled, but it wasn’t happy. “My papa used to sing this song to my mama. I don’t want to be Papa, Frankie. I don’t want to sing this song to you.” Then he passed out, leaving me to wonder what the fuck that meant.

  I looked at the half-stuffed bag to my left, then to the passed-out Beast in my lap.

  What. The. Fuck?

  A minute later my door opened again. I jumped, practically hitting my head against the wall.

  “Is he out?” Nikolai popped his head in, leaving the door partially closed.

  “Oh thank goodness,” Gabby said, coming in after. She gently shut the door behind her then turned around. Coming over to me, she lifted him up by his hair then showed Beast to Nikolai, who nodded. Apparently satisfied, Gabby dropped him and he fell with a heavy thunk back to my thighs. “We don’t have long until Tough Tino comes looking for him.”

  “You did this?” I asked in a whisper-yell, gesturing at the body on my lap. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

  “We put a little something extra in his drink,” Nikolai said nonchalantly.

  My eyes widened. “He’s going to kill me. Actually murder my body.”

  “He’s not going to know anything,” Gabby said to me, but then she turned to Nikolai and asked, “Right, Nikolai?” What the fuck did she mean by that? I shot daggers at Nikolai, but if he noticed he didn’t care.

  “We’re going to get him to bed and he’s going to wake up thinking he had a great time.” Nikolai grabbed both of his legs for emphasis and Gabby quickly followed suit, grabbing his arms. With eyes so wide I felt like they’d peel off my fucking face, I watched them carry the big bad Beast’s passed-out body through my room and toward the door.

  “Frankie you play lookout,” Gabby said.

  “I play what?” I yelled.

  “We need to get him to bed,” Nikolai said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  I shook my head as if I could get the words out of my mind the same way you do with water in your ear. “I don’t think I heard you.”

  “This guy is really heavy, Frankie, come on,” Gabby pleaded. Her legs were bending, arms straining, obviously over exerting herself.

  “I was in the middle of something…” I trailed off.

  “Please, Frankie,” she pleaded again. My gaze flashed from my overstuffed bag to Gabby. I wanted to scream at her that she was being used, but there was a passed out Beast in my room and somehow going along with their plan was less dangerous for me. Nikolai knew that. I quickly shoved the bag in the closet and ran over to the door. I pulled it open, ushering in a wave of laughter and music. I stuck my head out.

  “Coast’s clear. We’re not really doing this though—” But they both immediately rushed through, ignoring me. They carried him down the hallway decorated with lush, fake snow. Silver twinkling snowflakes hung from clear string above us so they looked like they were suspended in midair.

  We got to the room and they threw him on the bed, shutting the door behind them.

  “No, no,” I whisper-yelled. “I’m leaving. I’m getting out of here tonight. There’s no reason for me to stay.” As I said the words, there was some niggling inside of me, a dangerous, slippery thought that all at once gave me comfort: there was no harm in staying another day.

  Gabby turned to me, heaving heavy breaths. When she’d somewhat gotten control of her diaphragm, she wiped a stray bead of sweat from her forehead and said, “You’re the Pavoni Princess.”

  I laughed, hard. Neither of them joined me.

  “You’re serious?” I turned to Gabby. “We’ve talked about this. Twice.” I folded my arms. When Nikolai first put the flyer in my room, she’d been excited. I got that. I’d had to again pop the balloon when she’d told me about Levi and that sucked, but this?

  This was risking my life.

  I had to get the fuck out of here fast. I didn’t have time to play pretend. “I’m not the Pavoni Princess. Don’t you think I want to be heir to the very crime family of the asshole keeping me prisoner?” Beast groaned and all
of our eyes shot to where he lay face first on the bed. He twitched slightly then moaned, his breaths returning to normal.

  “Keep your voice down,” Gabby whisper-yelled. “You don’t understand. We have proof. I’ve been trying to see you for days.” Gabby wiped sweat from her forehead. “Do you know they’re already trying to auction me off to the highest bidder? If I have to marry some old crime boss, I will kill myself, or him—or both.”

  “That’s…” My anger chilled while I searched for the right words. I came up with none. “Awful, I’m sorry.” As I looked at their eager faces, though, I knew that no matter what awful shit the Pavoni mafia did, it wouldn’t make me a princess.

  “It’s whatever.” Gabby waved a hand, but she looked away and I could swear I saw a tear in her eye. “I knew it would happen.”

  “But maybe Levi—” I started, trying to find some way to comfort her.

  “The Pavoni Princess is real,” Gabby interrupted, turning back to me. “Did you hear me? We have proof.”

  “There is no record of you or your mother’s birth,” Nikolai said, and my eyes flashed to his, narrowing. I was still quite pissed off at him for concealing the fact that my papa was out of reach of Beast’s clutches. Now this? He was clearly manipulating Gabby. Why was he trying to make me a princess?

  Unperturbed by my cold glare, he continued, “We expanded the search to every hospital in New York, then to every hospital in the USA. There is no record of Francesca Notte or your mother being born.” My forehead contracted, the muscles clenching in disbelief and indignation. I’d always had such trouble applying for things like bank accounts and my driver’s license, and I couldn’t continue college because I could never get a loan. Papa said my birth certificate was lost and when I asked him to help me get a new one, he squirreled. I still didn’t know my social security number, but Papa was the kind of man who sat in a broken chair as long as it didn’t fall completely apart, so I didn’t think too much about it. Anger coursed through me, but not at Papa.