The Beast Read Online Free Page A

shoved my comforter in an expensive washer at the laundromat that was mostly used for horse blankets and threw the sheets and towels into another.
                  The smells of the Mexican restaurant next door were a mouthwatering reminder that I hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. Even that had only been half of a bagel sandwich. Suddenly desperately hungry, I went in.
                  "Jade, you got my text!"
                  My friend Sandra waved from a table, already sitting with two men. Her big green eyes scanned my confused face. I shook my head.
                  "Phone's still broken," I said.
                  "That's what I thought. What a coincidence then." She jumped up and hugged me. Her silky blonde hair wrapped me in the comforting smell of artificial strawberries from the shampoo she’d been using since she was nine. "Anyway, it just said that I was going out to dinner with Jack and his brother and you should meet us at Number Three. Our table’s over here."
                  The restaurant had a real name, but it was something long and in Spanish, but it ended in “No. 3” so we just called it Number Three. We often wondered where One and Two were, but we'd never seen them and any time we ever gave serious thought to finding them, we were too drunk to care. The place had killer margaritas.
                  I sat and nodded a stiff necked greeting to Jack, the black haired man sitting next to Sandra, and his brother Cole.
                  "That's so funny you came here anyway," Sandra said. "When are you getting a new phone anyway? Man, I really need to stop saying anyway today." She turned to Jack, "Anyway, everything here is amazing but I love, love, love the enchiladas. And the margaritas. Especially the margaritas."
                  She giggled and I smiled. She tossed her sandy blonde hair and called the waiter to order.
                  I ordered a bean and cheese burrito.
                  Sandra ordered a whole deep fried fish and four margaritas.
                  My stomach was in tight knots by the time my burrito arrived, covered in enchilada sauce and dominating a dinner plate.
                  I sipped at the margarita and tore into the burrito with fork and knife until all thoughts of creatures and killers and even the pain in my ribs was forgotten.
                  I slipped next door to change my laundry to the dryer and when I came back, my empty plate had been taken away and my empty margarita glass had been replaced with a full one.
                  "I ordered dessert," Sandra said. "And more drinks. You've got some catching up to do. Wanna do a shot?"
                  I smiled and shook my head. The scene on the little TV in the corner ruined the illusion of normalcy.
                  A fire on the screen caught my eye. The volume was too low to hear what they were saying about it, but I knew the freeway they were showing. I knew the car in the center of the blaze, too.
                  I sat down, as drawn and white as a new sheet. How could I explain to Sandra and two near strangers what happened- what was happening? I couldn't, so I said nothing. I couldn't just leave my friend and my laundry and drive through the police barriers to see- what? See if Simon was inside? Any options were completely absurd so I did nothing. 
                  Jack looked back at the TV to see what I was staring at, but no one asked.
                  "I told you she's weird," Sandra giggled from behind her glass. I threw a broken chip at her and forced a laugh.
                  We lingered through another round of margaritas and I kept my eyes firmly planted downward. I refused to let them drift back to the screen. If they pulled out a body… I looked down at the table