Chapter Two
The following morning, Morgan woke up and stared at the white ceiling above her head. After sharing lunch with her husband, and being shocked to discover it was in fact her that had gotten her parents killed, he’d left.
For the rest of the day, she had no choice but to fend for herself, which hadn’t been too difficult. His home was vast and full of things to do. He had a small library, complete with many kinds of books, including a small selection of romances. She didn’t know if he was a romance reader himself, but she loved those kind of books.
Glancing through each cover, she couldn’t help but smile. She loved to read, and romances were her favorite. When you lived a horror story, anything but romances was justified.
She didn’t need to watch or read horror, as she lived it. He had a game room, complete with an air hockey table, which was epic, along with a few games. She spent an hour there, and the truth was, she wanted to play the air hockey table, but no one was there, and it was boring trying to do it herself.
He had an indoor pool and sauna. She hadn’t gone for a swim yesterday, but she smiled, thinking about doing that very thing today.
Sitting up in bed, she stopped stretching, as she caught sight of a gift on the corner of the bed, opposite from where her legs were. It hadn’t been there the previous night. Reaching for it, she pulled it into her lap and stared. The wrapping was gold foil, beautiful, and it looked expensive.
She never got presents, even at Christmas. Although her family put up a tree, there had never been any gifts. No Santa, no nothing. The magic of Christmas hadn’t been present in her home.
Tearing into the wrapping, she couldn’t help but smile, as it felt amazing. It was a small package, and she glanced at it, finding the zipper, and opening it up. At first, she didn’t know what it was, but then, as she pulled out each item, she couldn’t help smiling. They were skin care product s— facial cleanser, toner, moisturizer, sunscreen, and everything in between.
Along with her own room, her husband had also provided her with a tablet she’d been able to use to surf the Internet, watch videos, and he must have some way of knowing what she watched. She loved watching skin care routines.
Grabbing her goodies, as well as her bag, she climbed out of bed and walked into the small en-suite bathroom. Lining up her precious bottles against the sink, she marveled at how pretty they looked. She refused to think of what she had back home as that was so minor. Her parents wouldn’t get her anything, even if she dared to ask.
She quickly used the toilet, washed her hands, and got started with the cleanser, all the way through to the sunscreen, to finish her routine. Her face felt lovely and soft, and she felt incredibly rejuvenated.
Once that was done, she walked back to the bedroom and made her way to the closet. There were dresses in many varieties of colors. Today, she opted for the pastel blue, along with a pair of flat shoes. She ran a brush through her hair, and when she was done, she left the bedroom and made her way downstairs toward the dining room. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. No one was around.
His staff tended to stay out of her way, and she hoped it wasn’t out of fear, or anything like that. She didn’t want anyone to be afraid of her. She would never try to get them in trouble.
Breakfast was already waiting for her at the table. She sat down in the chair he’d placed for her yesterday. She didn’t reach for anything, her nerves getting the best of her. The feelings she had only moments ago seemed to be replaced by that fear of getting hit.
Her father’s slap was always the hardest, but so too was her mother’s. They both enjoyed dishing out punishments, as did her brother. She rubbed at her temple and tried not to think about what was going to happen. Instead, she focused on now.
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 out what 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 he was 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.
So, today, after enjoying breakfast with his young wife, he’d decided to pay the man a visit. For his troubles so far, Steve hung from a piece of rope, across the beam of his ceiling. The man had a nice cabin, out near the woods. Kind of reclusive, dirty. Everything screamed horror film. Including his begging to be let go.
Carver already figured out the details. Steve was a gambling man who owed Romone a lot of money. To try and alleviate the debt, he’d been asked to keep an eye on his location. Perfectly okay, but Carver wasn’t in the mood to have his every waking move recorded and reported back to Romone. Unfortunately for Steve, that meant his meaningless life would end today.
He crouched down so that he looked Steve in the eye. “Tell me what else Romone told you to do,” he said.
“Just watch, and who came in and out of the property. That was all. Videos and pictures, and details each time it happened. That is all, I promise you.”
“Do you know who I am?”
Steve shook his head.
“Have you ever heard of The Beast?”
The whimper out of Steve’s mouth was comedy worthy, but Carver was past that.
“Would you have been quite so willing to go to his home?”
“No, no, I … no, I wouldn’t do that. The Beast is a monster, he’s terrifying.”
Carver smiled at him. “He has scars on his face, lives alone in a house all by himself, cruel, isolated?”
The man started to whimper, and he had already heard more than he wanted to.
“In case you didn’t put two and two together, I’m him,” Carver said.
It was the last thing he said before he plunged the blade into the guy’s neck. He twisted it, severing the major artery, and then pulled out the blade, waiting for him to bleed out on the cabin floor. Glancing around, he wondered if there was any point in salvaging it.
Instead, he waited until most of the blood had drained out before getting to work with his real artistry. Removing the man’s head, he placed it in the cooler, sealed it, boxed it up, complete with the address.
After that, he started to clean up the mess, removing his own clothes in the process and changing into a fresh set. Carver knew how to clean up after himself. Then, he stood back and watched as the cabin burned. He didn’t leave until the whole thing had burned to the ground, then he climbed back into his car and drove to the nearest post office.
Wearing a pair of glasses to soften the scars, he mailed the box to Romone and then took off, heading for his home. The drive was insignificant.
Romone had once told him he was a fool to allow people to know his location. For Carver, it made perfect sense. He didn’t fear dying, and he lived for the challenge of those that thought they could take him on. He was more than happy to invite those who thought they had a chance. There had been a few men and women over the years who assumed they could kill him. They had all been mistaken.
He typed in the code and waited for the gates to open before driving inside. He paused, giving the gates time to close, and then he drove up the long drive and parked outside his house. Climbing out, he stepped up and entered his home to find Andy, the one man he did trust. Andy kept his home clean and tidy.
“Your package arrived this morning,” Andy said. “I placed it in your office.”
“Excellent. Thank you. Anything else?”
“Your wife has been going from room to room, much like she did the other day. She is currently in the swimming pool and has been for the past half hour,” Andy said.
“Any other news?” Carver asked.
“None, sir.”
“Good.” He nodded at the man, then turned on his heel and made his way to his office.
There wasn’t just one package waiting for him on his desk, but a couple. The first one was a collection of makeup products he ordered. He went to a beauty shop, showed them a picture of Morgan, and told them to supply the products a woman would enjoy. He’d already gifted the skin care routine to her that very morning.
He noticed on her search history that she loved watching skin care, makeup, along with some cooking videos as well. Also, she loved watching puppies and dogs.
He had the makeup kit for his gift for tomorrow. He went through the packages one by one, assessing them. Carver then sat at his desk and opened the drawer, finding the gold-foil wrapping paper, his favorite. He carefully wrapped her gift. Once that was done, he got to his feet, closed and locked his office, and proceeded to make his way toward the swimming pool.
Stepping inside, he moved close to the edge and found Morgan swimming from one end of the pool to the other. She looked up at him and then screamed.
“ Why didn’t you say anything ?” she asked. “You scared me. I didn’t know who you were. I was all alone when I got to this room. Have you been here the whole time?”
“What scared you?” he asked.
“I don’t know, the tall man in the corner of the room.”
Carver chuckled and stepped toward her. He took several steps and then sat down at the edge of the pool near her. He didn’t dangle his feet in the water. Morgan stayed by the edge of the pool.
“Do you want to come in for a swim?” she asked.
“Sure.”
He got to his feet, kicked off his shoes, and stripped out of his clothes so that he was in his boxer briefs.
Stepping into the water, he was close to her and so very tempted to touch her. He wanted to put his hands on her, to feel if her skin was as soft as he remembered.
She had been so sick, and he was never into abusing women, especially when they were passed out. He took care of her, and that meant he had no choice but to strip her naked to wash her. He didn’t take advantage of her. He cared for her. And vowed that no one was ever going to force her to do anything again. Her family had paid the price. Anyone else that attempted would pay the price as well.
Instead of touching her, he swam away and did a full lap around the pool. He did a couple more laps and then stopped, finding her finishing up a lap.
“It was okay for me to come here?” she asked, swimming toward him.
“Of course, what is mine is yours, and what is yours is now mine.”
“I’ve got nothing to give you,” she said.
He smiled. “There is always something to be given. Trust me.”
He didn’t look away from her eyes. They were so very blue, so innocent. Her family had come to him and told him she was a virgin. No other man had touched her.
Virgins were precious. He knew that to some, especially her family, they were nothing more than business tools to be negotiated. Carver didn’t take her because she was a virgin. He took her to protect her, which blew his fucking mind. He was not a nice person. He didn’t do the right thing, he always did what was necessary.
Morgan had changed that. He’d protected her and even now, he wanted to keep her safe. Although he knew she had to be kept away from him. She deserved someone better than a guy who could kill a man, cut off his head, and mail it to an enemy.
Carver didn’t care. He didn’t feel things like others did, and he had no intention of breaking that barrier either.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“It was productive.” And with that, he climbed out of the pool, terminating the conversation.