Page 30 of Beast's Wife

Carver clicked his tongue. “That’s not going to work. I’m sorry, but the men who respond to your alarm, they’re kind of taking a nap. The kind of nap you don’t wake up from.”

He tried not to show fear.

His heart started to race, and he felt sick to his stomach. Sweat began to build at his back, and he was close to screaming. This was not good.

“I was thinking about you today, Carver, and you know how business is. Well, I was wondering how you would feel about becoming partners? You saw how Romone reacted today, and that is not good for any business. I think you and I can see eye to eye.”

Carver stood close to the desk, and Rigel kept his focus on him, reaching for the gun he always kept stored there.

Now, that would be a power trip, if he was able to take out Carver. The only person to face The Beast and win. Romone’s days would be over, people would follow him, and it would answer all his problems.

“Are you looking for this?” Carver asked, holding up the gun.

All the hopes he had in that fleeting second ended.

“Let’s see if it is working.”

Carver fired the gun, and the first blow landed in Rigel’s chest. He pressed his hands against the wound as pain erupted all over his body.

“I know who you are, Rigel, and I know what you are. You need to understand that you and Romone are coming to an end.” Carver stood over him and fired the gun again.

The pain was unimaginable. He’d never been in so much pain in his life.

He fired his weapon. He’d killed many people with it and not cared about the pain they were in. He’d been in Carver’s position, waiting for them to beg, knowing he wasn’t going to give in.

Rigel stared down the barrel, feeling the pain and the blood seeping out of his body. He didn’t want to die. If there was a Heaven or Hell, he was surely going to Hell after everything hehad done and the pain he had caused.

“Please.”

The gun went off again.

Chapter Nine

“Now, look at the can,” Carver said.

Shooting was not as easy as she hoped it would be. It was proving to be a lot more difficult, and she stared down the barrel of the gun. It didn’t help that she was closing her eyes as the gun went off.

“Take aim, focus, and then when you’re ready, shoot.”

They had already taken care of the safety measures with the gun. Checking the safety, loading it, putting the safety back on, she had done all those things. She didn’t have a problem with any of them.

But, the aiming and the firing. She fired the gun and gritted her teeth. The aim was way off, the can still standing. She pursed her lips.

“You’ve glued the cans to the board,” she said.

Carver took the gun from her, aimed, and fired. It felt like there wasn’t even a second between him taking aim and firing, and the can was proven to not be glued in place.

“Now, you’re showing off.” She took the gun from him, and did as he instructed, aiming and firing. Again, she was off.

“This is not fair.” She growled in frustration. “How did you learn?”

“Practice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you came out of the womb being able to fight and shoot, and to be perfect.”

“I wouldn’t know. I was abandoned as a baby.”

“You were?”

---