To Love A Monster

by Marina Simcoe

  Unfortunately, their personality differed enough for them to have different and often confusing demands from me. Some of the Madames Morels assured me they wanted to be my best friend. Some treated me with the severity of a harsh schoolmistress. Some immediately had a set of external and internal makeovers planned for me. Honestly, I preferred the few who just chose to ignore me.

  “Well, thanks to Henri’s efforts, I speak fluent French. Despite his attitude and personality, though, I managed to fall in love with the country and its people. I still keep in touch with Madame Besson, Henri’s long-term housekeeper.” I smiled remembering Madame Besson’s endless patience when I followed her around like a lost puppy all day, having nothing to do after my lessons and no one to play with in the huge and empty castle. “I turned eighteen, and I didn’t have to go to France anymore.”

  “But you still went, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” I replied with a short sigh. “I still went every year. It was stupid, I knew he didn’t really care if I was there or not. But I felt like this was my one and only connection with him, something he wanted me to do after all, so I kept coming every summer until the fight over my failing school . . .”

  I realized I had been talking about myself for quite a while and scanned Monster’s face quickly. The way his eyes remained focused on me reassured me a little.

  “I should be going back.” I finished my now-barely-warm tea.

  “Stay,” he said quickly—his back straightened, his whole body suddenly visibly tense.

  “It’s going to be dark in a couple of hours,” I reminded.

  He blinked and nodded, getting up too.

  “Sure. I’ll walk you back to the truck.” He held my parka open for me to put it on then wrapped my long scarf around my neck. “It’s a long drive to do in one day, though, Sophie.”

  “It’s not too bad once in a while. It’s not like I’m here every day.” I shrugged.

  “Can you stay the night next time?” he asked unexpectedly, catching me completely off guard.

  I couldn’t think of a reply right away and just stood there for a moment, crushing my hat in my hands.

  “Here?” I managed finally.

  “I’ll clean the fireplace upstairs,” he continued, his eyes on mine. “The master bedroom will be warm. There are plenty of clean sheets in the linen closet, but you can take them to town with you to wash if you want, in case they smell moldy or dusty.” His voice remained even, but the intensity with which he watched my expression, betrayed his impatience for my answer.

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll sleep down here or outside like I always do.”

  “What would I say to Bob and Melanie—?”

  “Do you have to say anything at all? You’re their tenant, not their daughter.”

  “I drive Bob’s truck. What if he needs it for something that day?”

  “What if he doesn’t?” He tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow at me expectantly.

  Bob and Melanie normally used a van for catering and delivering groceries. The truck was there for occasional larger hauls and driving out of town. Chances were I could keep it for two days if I needed it.

  The truck was not my only concern, though.

  “Are you still afraid of me?” His voice lowered.

  I had been here alone with him for hours on a few occasions now, with no one to stop him from doing anything he wanted with me. Yet, I felt safe all this time. He acted as a gracious host lately, and I enjoyed our conversations.

  “No. I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

  His expression remained somber, but his voice lifted.

  “Have dinner with me next time. Then stay the night.” He moved closer, invading my personal space. His warm scent suddenly made me want to bury my face in the fur on his chest, and I took a step back quickly, unnerved by my reaction to him.

  “I—I thought you didn’t want to eat human food . . .” I whispered, staring at my hat balled in my hands.

  “I'll eat it, Sophie. With you.” His deep voice grew softer and heavier at the same time, flowing over me. “Bring anything you like. Or I can roast another rabbit.” He chuckled somewhere over my head, and I realized he’d come closer again.

  I didn’t move away this time. Instead, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring his fresh, wild scent and reveling in the closeness of his large, powerful body.

  A strong desire to drop the hat I was holding and rake my fingers through his thick fur, sink my hands into his mane and feel the softness of it on my face made me sway his way before I realized what I was doing. Quickly, I took another step back and cleared my throat, still avoiding any eye contact with him.

  “I—I’ll bring something. Something we could warm up in the fire . . . What is your favourite food? Is there anything you really miss?”

  Not getting a reply, I cautiously lifted my gaze to his face.

  His hazel eyes dark and heavy, his breathing shallow, his hands clasped behind his back, he stood in front of me like a mountain, obstructing everything else from view.

  “Monster,” I whispered. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring for dinner?”

  His chest heaved, the long tongue darted out to wet his lips as the sharp fangs glistened in the afternoon sun.

  “Beside yourself?” he rasped.

  The feral note in his voice along with the wild glint in his eyes made me back up all the way to the door. Icy needles prickled along my skin. Only this time, there was a new warm tingle spreading from deep inside my chest down to below my waist.

  “Maybe dinner is not such a good idea after all . . .” I breathed out.

  “Popcorn, princess,” Monster replied immediately. “Could you bring some popcorn, please? With butter.”

  “Popcorn.” I nodded, relief stilling my trembling hands, as I sensed the tension in him ease and felt my own pulse slow down to a more normal rate. “I can do that.”

  Chapter 17

  WE DIDN’T SET AN EXACT date for our dinner. Mostly because I didn’t know when I could have the truck for two consecutive days. Also, I started my work on school lunches with Jo, which needed my attention. As it turned out, I had to stay in town for the next three days.

  Meanwhile, I found out all about the local services for Monster. Some technicians were available in Rocky River, but some had to be called in from other towns. I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. On one hand, I had promised Monster not to tell anyone about his existence. On the other hand, I needed the owner of the property to give a formal work authorization to people to perform their services on his house.

  All this time, the image of the large, furry figure would rise in my mind constantly. The warm, inviting scent of his body wouldn’t leave my senses, wreaking havoc in my thoughts.

  I understood the feelings of compassion and a budding friendship I had for him. What confused me were the tingles of excitement along my skin and the flutter of anticipation in my stomach when I thought about my next visit to the house in the woods. Was it normal to feel that way about someone covered with fur? Was it okay for me to find him attractive at all?

  There was no one to answer these questions for me. I knew, however, that it was absolutely normal for me to doubt myself on everything. Ever since high school, I’d been having trouble making decisions and was constantly second-guessing everything I did.

  Of one thing I was certain, though—I liked the way I felt when he was around. I enjoyed his company and was looking forward our dinner together.

  The first day I was available and could have the truck overnight, I drove to the Monster’s house. I had washed a set of sheets from his linen closet, and packed a pot of Melanie’s homemade stew along with some dinner rolls and salad.

  I told Bob and Melanie that I was staying at a friend’s house overnight, without explaining anything further. Melanie gave me a long penetrating stare and told me to be careful. I wondered if she’d assume I had a thing for a hunting guide from the lod
ge or one of the pilots. Without being able to tell her the truth, though, I had no choice but to let her make her own conclusions for now.

  Monster waited on the other side of the chain-link fence for me when I approached. And my heart skipped a bit at the sight of him.

  I noticed that the opening in the fence had been repaired, and Monster signaled me to drive further up the road before I had a chance to exit the truck.

  A few hundred metres up, a section in the fence had been removed, and the impenetrable rose bushes had been cut down, revealing the long gravel driveway to the cabin.

  I rolled the truck window down when Monster approached as soon as I turned onto the property.

  “Did you do this all by yourself?” I gaped at the amount of work he’d managed in just a few days.

  “No. I had a SWAT team of cute forest animals helping me, princess. Squirrels and rabbits are great at wielding a chainsaw.” His light tone and the twinkle in his forest-coloured gaze sent a wide smile to my face. “Just drive up to the carport, Sophie, I’ll meet you there.”

  Driving to the house along the cleared driveway was definitely much easier than hiking through the snow in the woods.

  He caught up with me when I parked the truck in the carport.

  “Are you trying to make it more enjoyable for me to come visit you?” I teased jumping out of the driver’s seat.

  “Sure.” He started helping me unload the truck. “I’m well aware that my company alone is not that enticing. I need all the help I can get to lure you out here.”

  It was obvious he did more work inside the house too. The musty smell of an abandoned place was all but gone now. The furniture had been dusted and arranged properly throughout the living area. The freshly aired space, warmed by the flames from the fireplace felt clean and inviting.

  “You have a beautiful house, Monster. And you’ve made it warm and welcoming. Whenever did you manage all of this?” I glanced at him over my shoulder as he followed me to the kitchen with all the stuff from the truck.

  “It was fun to be productive for a change.” He rolled a shoulder. “It’s not like I have a lot to do around here otherwise.”

  I noted that the kitchen cabinets had been wiped clean inside and out and started putting away some of the things I brought.

  “Listen,” I said. “Is there any chance you could talk to people from Rocky River? By phone, maybe?”

  “To my knowledge, there is no cell phone reception here. And even if there was one.” He leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed on his broad chest. “How many people would actually believe this is a human voice,” he flipped his thumb at his throat, “and not an animal growl.”

  I stared at him for a moment, the full comprehension of his situation hitting me anew.

  “Maybe, you could write a letter of authorization or something? To allow me act on your behalf in terms of making arrangement for the house maintenance?” Then a sudden thought crossed my mind. “You can read and write, can’t you?”

  He lifted a brow at me, tilting his head to the side.

  “Yes, princess. I can read and write.”

  The beginning of a smile hidden in the corners of his mouth emboldened me to ask.

  “Did you learn it in school?”

  Despite his obviously lighter mood today, I was still half-expecting a rebuke from him for asking a question about his past.

  “I was taught to read and write, Sophie.”

  This did not answer my question, but he didn’t bark or growled at me either, I noted.

  “Where you homeschooled?” I pressed on. This would make a perfect sense, actually, since he couldn’t leave the estate.

  This time, he blatantly ignored my question and took the last bag from my hands.

  “Popcorn?” He pulled two pre-filled aluminum camping pans.

  “Want to have that as an appetizer?” I smiled, realizing perfectly well that he was switching the subject—leading me away from further questions—but unable to do anything about it.

  One day, maybe one day, he’d tell me everything.

  Chapter 18

  WE SAT ON THE FLOOR in front of the fireplace. Monster held one of the aluminum popcorn pans over the flames, and I melted some butter in a stainless-steel ladle from the kitchen.

  “I actually didn’t mind school.” I figured if he’d never been to one, maybe he would like to hear about what it was like, although, my own experiences as a student were far from exciting, to say the least. “At the beginning, I even liked studying. High school was much harder, though, and I don’t just mean its curriculum. Henri insisted I go to Sunny Ridge Academy, the most expensive private school in the city. And being raised by my free-spirited, down-to-earth mom, I just didn’t fit in very well.” I smiled and shook my head. “You should have seen the Sunny Ridge girls. At fifteen, they knew all about what labels to wear, what music to listen to, what places to vacation in. I couldn’t carry a conversation on any of those topics to save my life. I wore the wrong clothes. Had my hair done the wrong way . . . Well, you know.”

  “Did you have friends outside of the Academy?” He shook the pan over the fire as the popping corn started to raise the cover into a dome.

  “Not many. You see, the kids in our neighbourhood all went to the local public school and preferred to hang out together. I was the only one on our street who had a black limo show up at their door every morning to take me to school. I so envied the kids who took the bus. It seemed so much more fun than sitting in the dark back of the limo with no one to talk to.”

  “I know what you mean.” He stared into the flames.

  “You do?” I cocked my head.

  He straightened his back and turned his ear to the fire. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?” I went still too, not hearing anything beside the occasional pop from the pan.

  “It’s slowed down. I think it’s ready!” The note of a genuine excitement in his voice made me smile.

  “Man, this smells fantastic.” He ripped the foil and dumped the warm popcorn into a glass bowl on the floor between us then moved it closer to me so I could pour the butter over it. “You know I used to think that’s how it must smell in Heaven when I was a kid. Every time I’d walk into a movie theater—”

  He cut himself short, apparently realizing that he’d said a little more than he had intended.

  I didn’t call him on it. Didn’t use this opportunity to pry out more with questions. Speechless, I simply felt dark and hollow inside from the realization that Monster had a childhood, with movies and popcorn. Someone took him out in public.

  When and why did it all change?

  “Would you like some?” He lifted the bowl to me, but I shook my head.

  “I’m not hungry right now.” Suddenly, I’d lost my appetite and just stroked his forearm lightly. “It’s for you.”

  I watched him throw a handful in his mouth and close his eyes in pleasure as a low satisfied rumble vibrated in his chest.

  How long had it been since he had popcorn? And when would be the next time once I left Rocky River?

  Silent, I took my ladle to the kitchen and washed it in the bucket in the sink. The orange in the glass jar on the counter caught my attention again when I was putting the ladle in the drawer, and I took it out trying to distract myself from the gloomy thoughts.

  The orange wasn’t in top shape even when I bought it. Now its skin had begun to dry out, shriveling slightly. The inside should taste really sweet, though.

  “Are you okay?” Monster’s voice made me jump as he came up from behind me and placed the empty bowl on the counter.

  “You don’t like oranges?”

  “I do. That’s why I didn’t touch it.” He was so close—his breath got caught in the hair on top of my head. “I didn’t want to remember how it tastes.”

  His tone was casual, even matter-of-fact, which made it sound only more heart-wrenching for me. I turned, the orange between my fingers, not finding any words to reply.<
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  “Here. Let me help you peel it.” His hand came around me from behind, and he flexed his fingers, baring a full set of black, curved claws, which sliced through the orange peel with ease.

  “These are impressive,” I spoke in awe, taking his hand in mine for a better look. I’d seen his claws before, but never this close.

  The skin on his palm was rough and calloused from running on all fours, I imagined. His hand relaxed in mine, and the claws disappeared completely.

  I took one of his fingers and fully straightened it. The sharp point of the claw peeped out at the very tip, and I tapped it with the pad of my thumb.

  “How do you make them come out all the way?”

  He didn’t immediately reply to my question, prompting me to look up.

  He stood at my side, so close, the fur on his chest brushed my shoulder. The arm of the hand I held was wrapped around me halfway, my forearm flush against his. His fresh scent mingled with the warm, delicious smell of butter and popcorn.

  The brilliant hazel of his eyes reminded me again of the wild woods that had become his home, and the emotions swirling inside them seemed just as untamed.

  The intensity of his gaze made me forget about my question for a second.

  Finally, he blinked.

  “I—” he cleared his throat as his hand twitched in mine. “I have to flex my fingers to make the claws come out.” He tensed his finger slowly and the slim, curved claw slid out again. “I’m not sure how it works myself, to be honest.”

  I slid the tip of my finger along the hard, polished surface of the claw. The top was smooth and rounded and the underside appeared to be razor-sharp, like a blade of a sickle.

  “Dangerous . . .” A rush of cold prickled along my spine at the thought of how much damage could be inflicted with those.

  Lethal.

  Then I heard a low rumble somewhere deep in his chest, the vibration of it spread along my arm. His face sank into my hair, and I felt him inhale deeply.