The Beauty’s Beast (The Beauty and the Beast #2)

Chapter 1 Ryder

RYDER

Why didn’t you try to run?

The words echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of what I hadn’t done earlier that day. I was no closer to finding an answer now than I had been when I’d stayed quiet.

I should’ve screamed. I should’ve tried to get away from him and run to the front door. I should have bitten the fucking hand he’d put over my mouth… but I hadn’t done any of that.

Instead, I’d stayed quiet like a docile little animal, and I wasn’t even sure why.

Maybe I was afraid of what would happen if someone found me like this. They’d see me, and he was a celebrity. What if they thought it was only some sort of game? What if I burst through the door only to find that it was someone on his side?

What would he have done to me?

That was what it came back to, that same bone-chilling thought over and over again: what would he have done? I didn’t know, and that was more terrifying than anything. He was a wild card, someone who’d proved emotionally unstable at best, and I was having to watch myself as it was.

If I’d tried to run again — if I’d tried to get away from him — he’d have punished me, and I was so, so tired of being punished.

“Toby?”

I pretended to be asleep, keeping my breathing as even as I could, and he brushed hair from my forehead. It was creepy to know that he was just… touching me while he thought I was sleeping. But then, he thought he owned me, so it wasn’t surprising.

“Wake up, Toby,” he urged me with a gentle push to my shoulders. “You won’t be able to sleep tonight if you don’t get up from your nap.”

I slowly opened my eyes even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, yawning and stretching out. It didn’t matter how little or much sleep I got. I never felt like I got any rest anyway.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told me.

I had to fight not to flinch. I didn’t want to hear him saying anything like that. I didn’t want his compliments any more than I wanted his orders.

I just wanted him to let me go, and that wasn’t going to happen.

How was it that I could keep resigning myself to this fate, only to feel the fire of a fight inside me all over again at every turn?

I didn’t want to lose myself.

As hard as it was to accept that I wasn’t going to win, I didn’t want to become… what he thought I was. I might not have been fighting, but that was because I was so tired…

I wanted to tell myself, too, that it was because I needed to gain his trust so when I made an escape attempt, it really meant something.

My heart started to race at the mere thought of trying to escape again.

The last time had gone horribly, but that had been a stupid try too.

With the mitts on, I hadn’t stood a chance of unwinding the leash from around his hand, and I’d known it.

So why had I even tried?

Why hadn’t I tried this time, when I’d had a chance?

I didn’t have an answer to that question, no matter how much I tried to find one.

“Thank you,” I finally said when the expectant look on his face started to turn into something darker. I was going to have to learn to wrangle the man and the beast alike, and I didn’t think the two could be separated. I’d seen the mask he wore, and I’d seen glimpses of what was beneath it.

I didn’t want to see more than that.

“We’ll hold off on training for the rest of today,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips against the corner of my mouth.

It was like he wanted to kiss me but was too afraid to, and I was too afraid to let him.

He was acting like I was there by choice, like I really wanted him, and I guessed…

I’d been letting him think that. There wasn’t anything else I could do if I wanted to be upstairs and away from the dungeon-like basement.

This was far better, even if it meant losing myself just a little bit more by giving in to what he wanted.

I was already lost, though, and I wasn’t sure there was even a way of coming back. Even if I was rescued, what if I was too damaged to go back to my ordinary life? I’d have nightmares of the man’s scarred face for the rest of my life.

“Thank you,” I said again. The gratitude was genuine, which was one of the things that bothered me the most. How had he turned everything upside down like he had?

Why did I keep doubting everything?

“You’re looking deep in thought,” he said, his thumb rubbing over my chin as he took my face in his hands. “Penny for your thoughts?”

I didn’t want a fucking penny. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

“Just thinking how grateful I am to be up here instead of downstairs,” I lied. I didn’t even know if that would be enough or if he’d get offended.

Thankfully, he didn’t. “Good,” he said with a nod, pulling me close like I was a stuffed animal instead of a human being. “Just remember that. It’s much better being up here than it is down there. I’d hate to have to put you back.”

The thought was like ice water through my veins, chilling me from the inside out.

It made me that much more afraid of what he planned on doing with me.

I wasn’t idiotic enough to think he’d suddenly stop everything he was doing because he was infatuated with me.

He’d still expect me to do the same things I’d done down in the basement, no matter how shitty it made me feel.

And what was more…

He would expect me to do more than that.

My stomach churned at the memory of him asking me if I’d give him a blowjob, and I thought I’d be sick as I remembered my own answer. Yes, I would, because there was no choice. If I didn’t, he’d take something else away, and I had so little left to give.

“I’ll behave,” I told him, my voice cracking on the words. What other option did I have? Creepy as it was, I preferred this to the cell and the mitts.

“I know you will,” he said with far more confidence than he should’ve felt.

Resentment bubbled up within me, but what could I really say? He did know I would because there wasn’t any other option. I might want to fight and beg and cry and flee, but none of those things were going to do me any good. And if I was good…

I glanced at the mitts beside the bed, shuddering.

I could deal with the harness and the collar as long as I didn’t have to wear those things.

Claustrophobia threatened to weigh me down when they were on my hands.

The sheer helplessness of not being able to use them was more soul-rending than I would’ve imagined.

How was I going to get through it if he decided to put them back on?

He followed my gaze, dropping his hold on my chin and reaching for my hands. He entwined his fingers in mine, murmuring, “They’ll stay off for today as long as you’re good. I promise.”

The promises of a madman didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot, but I’d take what I could get…

even if that seemed to come with a skewed idea of romance.

It made no sense in the wake of all that had happened.

In some ways, this was a little more disturbing than what had happened in the basement.

At least the torment had been expected there, but out here?

The sweet behavior edged with danger was more frightening.

I tried not to flinch, not wanting to give him any reason to change his mind, but it was hard.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I didn’t want another meal fed to me, but then, I didn’t want to eat another meal out of a dog bowl either. That had been more degrading than I had words for, and I could almost feel the gravy smeared over my nose as I’d chased after bits of food.

I nodded.

“What do you say?”

Fuck, what did I say? Were we still playing those games, or had he shifted into something else entirely? Did he expect me to call him something like “love”? I stuck with the familiar, the word that had been drilled into me, instead.

“Yes, I’m hungry, Master,” I said after a pause.

The words made him smile, his touch remaining light on my skin then.

What did he want from me? Did he want to gently touch me like we were lovers, to be treated as something more? Or did he want the pet and slave he was training me to be?

Did he want both? How would that even work?

Despair spilled over me at the thought. There was no way I could manage to keep that balance, which meant I’d provoke his ire and have to deal with the consequences of that failure.

I hated the idea that I’d fail no matter what I tried to do. I hated the idea that I cared so much about making this man happy.

What had happened to me?

I was desperate to survive, that was what, and it meant doing things I’d never even imagined before.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing the leash and clipping it to my collar.

My stomach churned. The leash didn’t mean anything good. I half-expected him to grab the mitts, too, but he thankfully left those to the side.

“Down,” he told me, gesturing to the floor.

I got down, getting onto all fours.

He rewarded me with a smile then ruffled my hair, smoothing a few strands behind my ears.

Of all the places my thoughts could’ve gone, they went to the fact that I wasn’t going to get to see a barber any time soon. Would he just let my hair continue to grow, or would he cut it for me?

It was such a bizarre, random thought that it momentarily gave me pause, and the tug of the leash against the collar caught me off guard. I started moving before my thoughts had even cleared, stumbling along behind him as yet another small reality set in.

Even something as simple as a haircut was in his hands.

“You want some food, boy?” he asked.

My heart sank. Here we were, back to the dog thing. Was he going to make me bark again? “Yes, Master,” I whispered.

He wiggled a finger at me. “That’s not what I want to hear, Toby.” His voice was oddly playful, so much at odds with the major stakes of trying to obey him and be what he wanted when I didn’t know how.

I whimpered then let out a little bark, staring down at the tiles of the kitchen floor instead of looking up at him.

“Good boy,” he told me, running his fingers through my hair again. “Over here.”

He led me to a mat, where he set down two dog bowls. One, he filled with cereal, and the other, he filled with milk.

I had the urge to laugh, but I stopped the sound before it could escape — hysterically — from my throat.

At least the cereal wouldn’t get soggy.

At least he wasn’t feeding me.

Fuck, how could I even be fighting the urge to laugh at this?

“Go on,” he said. “Eat up. No hands.”

Duh.

Instead of speaking, I leaned down, grabbing a few pieces of Cocoa Puffs in my mouth and feeling like I was eating kibble instead of real food. Not that cereal was real food, not really, but it was a step up from the alternative.

I got a mouthful of milk then went back to the cereal.

Right.

It wouldn’t get soggy.

Every cloud had a silver fucking lining, right?

What did it say about my life that this was mine?