Page 45 of Beautiful Beasts

The faster he gets off, the quicker he will leave, and I will be able to get off my knees and try and forget. But I have a feeling this is just the fucking beginning of my torture, and he will never let me forget.

31

Harley

“I told you sinners get punished,” he says in a low, dark, annoyed voice.

“I’m trying,” I confess to the darkness.

“Try harder,” he snaps.

The fear in me spreads and increases. My heart is racing as I see the figures moving in the dark. I don’t know what the fuck he wants from me.

“We will continue to do this until you do not react at all. You can’t afford to be a weak son,” he says in a low, dark voice.

He believes everything can be a weakness. He believes being cold and violent is the best way to survive and remain king. I think he might be right; I just don’t know how to be what he wants. That will be the only thing you need,“ he whispers in the dark as the men tighten their grip on me.

It is too dark to see, but I can hear their breathing. The woman is on the bed, and I can guess what they are going to do to her. They say women are meant to be used and abused and that they were created for pleasure and nothing more.

I take a deep, shaky breath as my father kneels in front of me, making my heart race as our eyes lock. I can see the darkness inside him. The darkness I know will soon consume me just like it has him. There is no way out, and there is no escaping what he wants me to become.

I have tried to be more and hang on, but I can feel it. I am going to fucking break and submit, which is precisely what he wants from me, and even though I don’t want to give it to him, I will, maybe not tonight, but it is coming.

“You are the one that made me do this, son. It is simple. Change and let me mold you into the perfect soldier,” he pleads.

I don’t respond as he lifts the knife and places it against my chest. My eyes widen as a smile forms across his lips. He puts pressure on the blade, making my heart race even more, and then he begins to slice. The pain rushes through me like a dangerous virus.

My skin burns and stings from the blade. I can feel it in my bones. Soon, the pain and the rage in me will boil over and destroy the boy that I am, and he will be replaced with a beast that will not be able to be tamed.

I close my eyes as I feel more blades make contact with my skin, all of them cutting me, marking me, and changing me.

“Fuck,” I scream as they tighten their hold on me. My entire body starts to shake from the pain.

The boy I am has already begun to die.

“Fuck!” I scream. Sweat rolls down my face, and I feel a set of hands holding my face in place. My eyes shoot open, adjusting to the darkness of my room, and I rapidly look around as my surroundings finally come into focus.

It was just a dream, only a dream.

“Harley,” Bella whispers, snapping my attention back to her.

“Bella,” I whisper.

The pain still lacing my voice. It was just another nightmare, but it felt real. My skin feels like it is on fire, and the stinging is fading. I know it is in my head, but my body hasn’t made that connection yet.

After all these years, the nightmare still gets me, and the showers never wash away all of the blood that is on my skin. From what was done to me or from what I have done to others, the blood is always still there, still staining my skin, reminding me that I am the Beast I never wanted to be. But now I don’t know how to be anything else.

“I’m here, Harley. You are safe. I am right here,” she says, trying to bring me back and reassure me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I see her shake her head as she slowly straddles me, keeping a tight grip on my face. She leans down, her lips almost touching mine.

I fell asleep sitting up against the bed frame. I never want to put myself in a position where I am unprepared if something happens. I am on edge all the time, all the fucking time, and the only time I get any peace is when I am holding her in my arms.

“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” she begs.

She smashes her lips to mine, and I run my hands up her naked back. She came into my room a few hours ago after getting out of the shower, once again trying to wash away her past. By the look in her eyes, the demons from her past were in full swing. She was upset and crying but refused to talk to me. Instead, she asked me to distract her.

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