Page 19 of The Beast's Heart

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mal’s shoulders jerk when she says, ‘no one wanted’.

“Look, Alisha,” I say, gently taking the folded blanket from her, “Maybe that’s what he wants. But that’s not whatIwant. I want to help you get that garden, and some pet cows, and whatever else you dream about.”

A small smile flickers across her lips at that.

“This may be temporary, but that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from it, right?”

It’s Mal who answers. “Now you think we’re going to like you because you played one game with us?”

“You don’t have to like me. I’m not here to be your friend, Mal. I’m here as a resource. Someone you can make use of for your own benefit.”

“We’ve missed a lot of the school year,” Alisha says before Mal can answer. “There’s no way we will catch up in time.”

“Let’s see how we go. This is certainly an environment conducive to learning. It’s so quiet out here, with so few distractions. You might surprise yourselves.”

Mal offers no comment, but the mood is distinctively somber as we trudge back to the house. It starts to rain again.

I’m so lost in thought as I head back to my room that I don’t notice Adam standing outside my door until I’m nearly on top of him. Which is saying something, considering the moving mountain of a man he is.

“Mister Belle,” he greets me icily. He opens my door, gesturing me inside.

My heart slams as I step into the room. “If this is about the situation with Mal earlier, I can explain.”

“Yes, youaskedhim to leave.”

I turn as he closes the door behind us. His expression is stony. Maybe this isn’t about Mal at all. Maybe he’s learned the truth about me.

I swallow. “Well, you see, with children it’s always better to let them get their emotions under control before?—”

“Which would be why you spent the whole day outside,playing?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, it vibrates with barely contained rage.Geoff must have informed him.

Adam folds his arms. He’s blocking the exit. “You were hired to do a job, Belle. I’m concerned that you might not be up for it.”

“With all due respect, I consider this doing my job.” My voice only trembles a little.

“And when it comes time for them to take standardized tests, I suppose they’ll write ‘ball games’ under the section on mathematics?”

I stare at him. Emotional regulation aside, play is a critical part of how children learn. I want to tell him that but I’m so shocked thatthisis what he’s upset about that I can’t get my tongue to move.

“We already have a nanny. Your job is to teach them.”

“I am teaching them?—”

“How to play ball.”

“It’s only the first day?—”

He closes in on me. “I’m not sure anyone’s explained to you yet how critical it is that we succeed here. There is a lot on the line. It may be just a day to you but we’re in a situation, Belle, whereevery daycounts. If you’re not up for the job, you need to tell me and you need to tell me now.”

I fight the instinct to back away. I’ve been bullied enough in my life. I won’t be bullied now. “Maybe you and I have very different ideas of what the job entails.”

He leans forward, practically looming over me. “Maybe we do.”

The threat of dismissal hangs unspoken between us. That’s probably why I throw caution to the wind. “And I suppose your idea of education matches your idea of a classroom? Children are to be seen and not heard, are to learn by rote, and let’s not forget the firm hand.” Now the initial shock has passed, hot rage floods through me. “Structure and discipline, isn’t that what you said?”

The Beast speaks through clenched teeth, leaning further forward, “Maybe you’re too soft to give them what they actually need.”

“And what is that?” Raising my voice at my boss—my giant, world champion wrestler, boss—is not a good career move. Probably not a good move in general. Every logical part of me is yelling ‘stop!’, but I can’t. This isn’t just about this encounter. It’s about the whole damned concept of what’s going on here. My chest burns. “They’rechildren! Traumatized children. They’re not robots. You have no idea what they’ve been through?—”

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