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Chapter 13

Author: Shan R.K
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-19 02:18:14

Beggar

He doesn't look at me at all. On the streets that would mean that the man got all mouth and no balls. The smile plays on my lips at the thought. But quickly dies a dry and painful death when he does and I gulp.

“We need to talk about what happened today.”

Storm moves a step to the side to block me again, he’s taller than Zero so it's an easy move.

“You can talk with her once we in Kanla, with me there. She’s under my protection brother. Why don't you go calm down and take care of your woman!”

“That shit isn't fuckin’ happenin’, something went down tonight. I wanna know what it is.”

I mumble behind Storm’s back. He twists his body to face me, his eyes softening.

“What did you say baby girl?”

I shoot a quick glance at Zero, who is staring blatantly at my long hair, and swallow hard. Yes fucker, look, I’m a beggar with long hair,

“I said, I want my pudding then I’ll talk.” Some of the tension eases out of Storm.

And Zero seems to relax somewhat.

“Can't, Venus ate it.”

I go to close the door and Storm moves out of the way at the same time Zero’s hand snaps out to block my movement.

“Give me ten and I’ll get you another one.”

I clear my throat, “Make it two, and you got a deal.”

Surprise flickers in his eyes but his grim face quickly comes back into place making the scar foreboding.

I really want that pudding, so if I got to tell the scary man what happened to Falon to get it, I'm all for that.

“And hot chocolate.”

He shakes his head, “Hot chocolate tomorrow and pudding today.” I feel the vibration of Storm’s laughter behind me. But watching Zero’s hard face set on his decision, my shoulders drop. I really wished I’d thought of the hot chocolate first.

He mumbles something about bargaining but thankfully leaves the room and I shut the door wondering whether I’m going to get anything, even the pudding will do.

Storm is silent behind me. I turn to him and look up to his knowing eyes. He swallows, face full of pity.

There was a time where I wanted pity, I was sixteen and trying to get a job.

I finally got my pity in the form of a monster and the only pity he felt for me was reminding me of how I’ll always be a filthy homeless beggar. How I’ll always take the scraps of what people will give me. How the only pity I’ll ever get was from the mercy he’d show me, none.

“I said scream beggar. SCREAM LOUDER!” His words yell in my head. I grip my temples, it's so loud.

No, not now please, not now,

“You filthy Beggar, SCREAM.”

I freak out at the sound of his voice, and push Storm back against the wall.

My throat constricts. I can't breathe. Invisible fingers are squeezing my neck.

I hear Storm in the back ground, but I don't pay him any attention as I pull the door open.

Then I'm kicking it, down the narrow corridor.

I need air.

I need to feel the open space against my skin.

I need to know I'm alive, I'm free.

I can't stand pity, he pitied me, that monster.

For two days, he surely fucking pitied me.

He also showed me his pity for hours at a torturous time.

My throat is burning, my air constricting.

Storm thinks he knows me, he thinks because we've talked that he understands me. He’ll never come close to feeling like me, when people like him have never known a day of hunger.

Never known the lengths a 16-year-old pregnant homeless beggar would go, to put food in her belly to feed her unborn child.

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