Page 4 of Beast's Wife

Her husband had told her she didn’t have to wait.

Her family was dead.

There wasn’t going to be any kind of punishment.

Her stomach growled. She was so hungry. Her hands clenched into fists.

They were dead.

They were not going to hurt her.

Trust him.

And then, she reached for a piece of toast, along with some butter. Sliding it across the bread, she took a bite, closing her eyes, as she chewed before swallowing. How could food suddenly taste so much better now that she lived with her husband? She still didn’t know his real name, if he even had one.

Morgan was onto her second slice of toast by the time he arrived. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for eating without him.

Her husband sat down, grabbed some toast, along with pieces of sausage and bacon, and began to eat. He didn’t say a word, and she couldn’t help but steal little looks in his direction. He seemed so sure of himself. She found it addictive to just watch him. He ran fingers through his hair, and then glanced toward her.

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded.

“I know this is going to … sound strange, but what do I call you?” she asked.

He sat back and didn’t say a word.

She couldn’t help but avert her gaze and try to figure outwhat she was supposed to say or do. “I mean, do you have a name?”

“You know who I am,” he said.

“You want me to call you that?”

He chuckled. “As much as I find it funny to be called a Beast, Carver would be fine.”

“Carver?”

“Yes, kind of funny, isn’t it? If you think about it, I have been known to use a carver to deal with problems.”

She saw the smile on his lips and didn’t quite know what had entertained him, but she was surprised at how much she liked to see his smile. He had a nice smile.

She quickly looked away, and this time she grabbed a piece of sausage and took a bite. It tasted really good. The rest of breakfast was filled with silence.

Carver finished his meal, got up, and then placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t feel afraid or flinch from his touch.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She couldn’t help but look toward him as he left. He didn’t look back.

She had no idea who this man really was, but he intrigued her.

****

Carver flicked through the man’s wallet and saw no reason for him to have been placed as a lookout on his property. He knew Romone would put someone on duty to watch his home. The beat-up car had been so out of place, and it was obvious with the binoculars, as well as the constant cell phone calls, that he’d been paid to watch him.

Romone was getting sloppy. All it had taken was using three of Carver’s own staff to leave the property, to conclude hewas being watched. Then, all he had to do was wait the same three days to see when the person put in charge of watching him, left.

This man, Steve, left at ten in the morning, without checking to see who was following him. Today, he had enough of being watched, and it had lost its entertainment factor. Especially as his young wife liked to spend time out in the garden, regardless of whether it rained.