Tame his Beast - Claire C. Riley Page 0,18

carefully as I could.

His body was healing really well, and Doctor Collins seemed to think he was over the worst of it. There was still along way before he’d be ready to leave the hospital, but his bruises were finally fading and his skin was knitting together, leaving behind thick scars in their wake. He still refused to take off the bandage from around his head though, and despite what he said, I think he was scared that he was blind in the bandaged eye and just didn’t want to know.

Sometimes it’s better the devil you know. I wasn’t pushing him on it—no one was. He had enough to deal with right then.

I cleared away the water and cloths and unscrewed the lid to the cream to put over his burns when he suddenly jumped.

“Fuck yeah!” he yelled.

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” I yelled back, startled.

He turned to look at me, his arm snaking around my waist. “You see that, Belle? That there is John Wayne, goddamn brilliant actor.”

I looked over, a small smile playing on my face. His arm around my waist felt comfortable—natural, even. His fingers played with the material as he talked, telling me about the film he was watching. I’d never seen him like this—so unleashed of his anger—and I stood there for five minutes straight while he talked about the movie.

“I’m not a fan of cowboy movies. They’re all about shooting and riding and shooting some more,” I said, my fingers spreading cream over his forearm. “I just don’t get it.”

He snorted but didn’t say anything, and I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Women never get it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Some women must.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” I said, continuing to apply cream. He hissed as I pressed against one a little harder. “Sorry.”

“Whatever, just hurry the fuck up,” he grumbled, his good mood evaporated.

“You don’t have to be so moody all the time.”

“You don’t seem to get it, Belle. I am moody, and I am a jerk, and I really don’t give a shit, though those are two of the lamest insults I’ve ever been called, but whatever.” His jaw twitched as he clenched it tightly.

I pouted. “I don’t believe that. Everyone wants to be liked.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t a good laugh. It was a laugh that said he ate bunnies and killed kittens. The kind of laugh that gave you nightmares.

“I couldn’t give a fuck if people liked me or not.”

I pouted harder, not ready to believe that. “Well, you’re a mean, moody jerk and you should care.”

He shook his head. “There you again with those bullshit insults again, Belle. You need to call me something that really gets my blood pumping if you wanna piss me off.”

I finished with the cream and screwed the lid back on the tub. “Oh yeah, like what?”

“I don’t know, Belle! What kind of fucking question is that?”

I shrugged. “I’m just not good at the whole calling-people-mean-names thing.” I realized how pathetic that made me sound, but it was the truth.

He huffed out a breath at me. “Cock-sucking motherfucker with an ass-eating piece of shit for a mother.”

I dropped the cream and it clattered noisily onto the tray.

“Jesus, Belle,” Beast snapped. “Be fucking careful, will you?”

“Sorry, sorry, oh my god though, have you actually said that to someone?”

Beast stared at me, his expression shifting from thoughtful to confused and finally to amused. He shook his head and smirked. “You’re something else, you know that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, pushing the cart back across the room.

“Take it as whatever you want,” he grumbled. “Now shut the fuck up and let me watch my movie in peace.”

I handed him his pills and a glass of water and he took them, swallowing them down and waving me away.

“I’ll be back later,” I said, heading across the room.

“Belle?”

“What?” I turned back to him.

“You can stay and watch the movie if you want.” His expression hadn’t changed, but I could see from his sad, gray eye that he wanted me to. That he was lonely.

“Why don’t you get Joey in here? I’m sure he’d like the company too if you’re lonely.”

His gaze narrowed on me, his expression turning dark. “You think I’m lonely?”

I realized as soon as he said it back to me that I’d said the wrong thing, but it was too late to backtrack.

“I’m not fucking lonely, bitch! Now get the fuck out of here!” he yelled.

I scurried out of