Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“You are hungry,” he says.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I can handle it.”
He holds up the piece of meat like it’s some kind of prize. “Eat.”
I raise my hand again. “No, no, I’m fine. I promise. I’ll … eat another day.”
That’s a lie. I don’t know when I’m going to eat. If ever.
But I don’t want him to feel guilty for eating either.
He shrugs and takes another bite. “Another day, more meat.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“There is no other food,” he explains. “Only meat.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
He swallows down some meat and puts the bones down on the plate. “I eat meat. That’s it.”
My jaw drops. “Wait, so you just don’t eat the rest, or they never offer you anything else?”
He shakes his head. “Meat. That’s it.”
Meat? Just meat? How can a person live on meat alone?
“But that’s not possible. You wouldn’t be sitting here if that was true,” I say.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“You’d get scurvy.”
“Scurvy?” he parrots, narrowing his eyes.
“It’s when you don’t eat vegetables and fruits,” I explain. “Your body gets sick. It needs nutrients.”
“Oh …” I can see him mull it over, his eyes flicking back and forth slowly as he does. “The guard brings me pills sometimes.”
I frown. So they can’t even be bothered to give him the most basic human needs.
Pills. That’s how his body sustains itself. And meat to fill up the rest.
Disgusting.
“Wow,” I mutter.
No wonder he was so antsy and pacing around his cell like that … if all he ever gets to eat are scraps of meat.
Damn.
“So this is why you were angry,” I say. “You didn’t get food yesterday, did you?”
Beast throws me a look and then continues eating until nothing is left.
Food almost feels like a prize. A reward.
Something you need to earn.
And maybe by bringing me back instead of killing me, he did something his owner didn’t like.
Beast grabs the bone and chews on it. “I like meat. It feeds my muscles.”
“I can tell,” I say, rolling my eyes.
A playful smile forms on his face. “My muscles?”
His chest tenses, and I don’t know if he does it by accident or on purpose, but my eyes definitely go there.
I have to force myself to look away. “No, that’s not what I meant, oh my God. I meant the food.”
“I know.” The smile is still firmly planted on his face. “You’ll like it too,” he says, his voice gravelly. “The meat, I mean.”
Which meat?
My eyes widen, and I look away before it gets too embarrassing.
He means the red meat. The raw meat he just ate.
Not that giant thing between his legs.
This is totally not what I should be thinking about. Ever.
His lips part again. “Eventually.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Eventually.
I don’t like the sound of that word.
The definitiveness.
As if he means to say … give up hope.
“No,” I say, firmly crossing my arms. “That’s not food. I’ll never like it, and neither should you.”
“Why?”
“Your owner is mistreating you,” I explain. “He should be feeding you properly cooked meals.”
Beast snorts. “Me or you?” He cocks his head. “You’re the hungry one, not me.”
That’s not fair. “Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“No, but you’re here, might as well survive.”
Survive?
Would they truly let me starve if I chose not to eat this?
No, I don’t believe it. They put me here for a reason.
If that mobster wanted me dead, he would’ve killed me already.
“This is more than enough to survive,” he adds.
“No, it’s not. You’re a human, and he treats you like a dog that should be happy with scraps.”
I know I’m getting incensed, but I just can’t fathom how a human being could do this to another. It’s inhumane. It’s … beastly.
His brow rises. “Why do you suddenly care?”
I pause, feeling caught in the act. “I … just feel like it’s wrong. That’s all.”
He stares me down for a moment as if he’s trying to see whether I’m speaking the truth. “Dog. Hound. Monster. Beast. It’s all the same to me,” he says, and he licks off the bone like he’s savoring the very taste. “I don’t care what I’m called. What I am is always the same.”
He doesn’t even care.
It’s like he’s gotten used to it.
Like he’s given up the fight.
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “And what’s that?”
He lowers his eyes at me and chucks the bone to the side. “A stone-cold killer.”
CHAPTER 9
Beast
Killer.
That’s what I am.
Whether it’s humans, animals, or already slaughtered meat, I will destroy it and leave nothing in my wake.
I know my place in this world.
But her eyes … they judge in a way that makes me feel guilty.
And that makes me stop and stare right back at them.
I’ve done that a lot since I found her.
Staring is all I can do when faced with regrets … And with unfathomable beauty.