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Beast Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy

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by Callahan, Kelli




  Beast Daddy

  Once Upon A Daddy

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Anabelle

  2. Adam

  3. Anabelle

  4. Adam

  5. Anabelle

  6. Adam

  7. Anabelle

  8. Adam

  9. Anabelle

  10. Adam

  11. Anabelle

  12. Adam

  13. Anabelle

  14. Adam

  15. Anabelle

  16. Adam

  17. Anabelle

  18. Adam

  19. Anabelle

  20. Adam

  21. Anabelle

  22. Adam

  Epilogue

  Daddy’s Best Friend: Sneak Peek

  Join My Mailing List

  Kelli’s Voracious Vixens

  About the Author

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  One

  Anabelle

  “Are you ready to do this?” The girl beside me looked down at the ski mask in her hand.

  “Yeah.”I nodded and slid mine over my head.

  Violet and I fantasized about robbing the gas station at the corner of Marigold and Lawson for nearly two years. The owner was a dirty old man who always stared at the young girls that came into his store—like he was undressing them with his eyes and wishing he could do more. He hired pretty high school girls to work the counter, and if the rumors were true, you didn’t get to work there very long unless you were willing to spend some time in the back room with Mr. Davis after your shift. He paid quite a bit more than minimum wage to the ones that were, and it was attractive enough for some of them to get down on their knees. I was desperate enough to rob the place, but I wasn’t that desperate.

  The gas station was the go-to place for high school kids and college students that wanted to buy cigarettes or beer before they were old enough to do so. Mr. Davis never bothered to ask for ID if you put a couple of extra dollars on the counter next to what you wanted to buy—and the girls he hired were ordered to do the same thing when they stood behind the register. I wasn’t a regular customer by any means, but I had tried a few things I shouldn’t have been able to get my hands on because of Mr. Davis and his broken moral compass.

  Some of his ill-gotten gains will secure my future—it’s hard to feel bad about that.

  “No turning back.” Violet slid her ski mask on. “We rob this place, and then we’re gone—fuck Los Angeles.”

  “Yeah.”I exhaled sharply. “Screw this place.”

  Violet was an orphan like me, and we shared a birthday. Despite living in different foster homes most of our lives, we tried to stay in touch over the years. We always joked that we had the same expiration date, and while we laughed about it when we were kids, it was the truth. We were going to age out of the foster-system at the same time, and the reality of being homeless at eighteen was starting to scare us.

  We were technically allowed to stay in foster care until we turned twenty-one if we were still in school or had a full-time job, but while that was a great option, it wasn’t a guarantee. College wasn’t free, and it was hard to find work when you had no method of transportation except your own two feet. Once we walked across the stage to claim our high school diplomas, we were officially emancipated from the state if we weren’t enrolled in college or holding down a full-time job within a few weeks of obtaining proof that we conquered high school.

  “Okay.” Violet leaned against the wall and pulled the black water-gun out of her pocket. “Wave your gun around, so they don’t realize it’s fake.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “We’ve gone over this plan a thousand times.”

  We knew the girl behind the counter—she went to our high school and was terrified of her own shadow, so we didn’t expect her to give us any trouble. The gas station had been robbed a few times over the years, and Mr. Davis never put up a fight. We were pretty sure he had insurance that would cover the losses, and he valued his life more than the money in the store based on how he handled himself during other robberies. That money meant everything to us. It was our ticket out of Los Angeles, and we knew there would be a lot of it in the safe—we just had to be persuading enough to get Mr. Davis to open it.

  We could have robbed the convenience store at any time and gotten a few hundred bucks, but we were after a whole lot more than that. We chose Memorial Day weekend because we knew the bank would be closed and Mr. Davis wouldn’t be able to deposit all of the money the store made until Tuesday. Selling cigarettes and beer to underage kids meant most of them paid in cash—as did the people who bought lottery tickets. We watched the jackpot grow for several months, hoping that nobody would win it before Memorial Day, and fate was on our side for once. Everything had fallen into place perfectly, and we just had to claim our prize.

  Now its time to cash out of Los Angeles…

  Violet was the first one to turn the corner, and I was right behind her. My hand was in my pocket—squeezing the plastic water gun so hard that I was scared I might break it. I was nervous, but adrenaline was putting one foot in front of the other—until Violet came to an abrupt stop. I almost slammed into her before I caught myself. She looked back at me and motioned for me to run, but I didn’t know why.

  “What’s wrong?” I tightened my grip on the water gun—not that it was going to help if there was a problem.

  I looked through the window of the convenience store and finally saw what caused her to stop in her tracks. Mr. Davis and the girl behind the counter weren’t the only two people inside the convenience store—there was a uniformed police officer pouring a cup of coffee. Violet pushed past me and took off, but I stared like a deer caught in the headlights as the police officer looked up from his cup of coffee—and noticed me standing in front of the window wearing a ski mask. His expression said everything.

  “Come on! Ana! Run!” Violet’s voice snapped me back to reality.

  “Oh shit!” I stared as the police officer reached for his gun and started walking to the door.

  Our dream of getting enough money to escape Los Angeles was dashed in an instant. Instead, we were running for our lives—and our freedom. Violet was ahead of me, but I was faster than her, so I was able to catch up. I was too scared to look over my shoulder and see if the police officer was chasing us—I just assumed that he was.

  When we planned out the robbery, we laid out the path that we would take once we left the store. There was a wooded area nearby that would give us some cover, and we had a change of clothes waiting there, so when Amber turned in that direction, I knew exactly where she was heading. I finally got the courage to glance over my shoulder, and I didn’t see the police officer anywhere in sight—but then I heard a siren.

  “We need to get to the woods!” Violet put her head down and tried to run faster.

  We made it to the edge of the wooded area and immediately ducked down—just in time to watch a police car speed down Marigold Street with lights flashing and sirens blaring. If we hadn’t made a dash for the woods, the police officer would have easily caught up with us. Once the car was out of sight, we ripped our ski masks off and ran to the spot in the woods where we originally planned to go after the robbery. It was the halfway point between our foster homes and where we always met up when we wanted to hang out—where we spent months pla
nning the robbery that went horribly wrong before we ever made it through the front door of the convenience store. We quickly changed into our normal clothes and stashed what we were wearing when we went to the convenience store in an old hollowed out log.

  “Fuck…” Violet sat down on the log with a thud.

  “Don’t sit.” I shook my head back and forth. “We can’t stay here.”

  “Where are we gonna go?” Violet reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “The cops are going to be looking for us.”

  “We have to split up.” I sighed and motioned for her to give me a cigarette. “That was the original plan anyway.”

  “Yeah, except we have to go back to our foster homes instead of hiding out in a motel for a couple of days.” Violet lit her cigarette and handed me the lighter.

  “What choice do we have?” I sighed and sat down beside her. “This was a stupid idea.”

  “No.” She took a drag from her cigarette. “It was a great idea—the world just hates us.”

  “Let’s lay low for a couple of days, and then we’ll figure something else out—maybe something that doesn’t involve us going to prison if we get caught.” I lit my cigarette and watched the smoke swirl as it left my lips.

  “Okay.” Violet nodded.

  We finished our cigarettes, made sure the coast was clear, and then headed in opposite directions. I wasn’t looking forward to returning to my foster home. I got in a huge fight with my foster parents before I left that morning, and instead of just biting my tongue, I lost my temper. I thought it would be the last time I saw either of them, so I unleashed a lot of pent up aggression that had been bottled for the two years I lived there. They weren’t bad foster parents by any means, but they had so many ridiculous rules. I was already eighteen, even if I still had another week of high school, and I didn’t feel like I should be held to the same standards that I was when I was a child. They didn’t agree—they thought the rules should apply until I was no longer under their roof—and argued that turning eighteen didn’t change anything.

  Damn it; I really don’t want to go back there…

  I don’t know if it was a twist of fate or just misfortune, but when I got to the other side of the woods, I realized that going back to my foster home immediately wasn’t an option. There were a couple of patrol cars in my neighborhood, and that wasn’t normal. There was no way that the police knew who was outside of the convenience store in a ski mask, but I wasn’t eager to answer any questions if they decided to stop me while I was walking home. I decided to hide out in the woods for a little longer and put some distance between myself and the patrol cars—and the location of the clothes we stashed. I started walking along the trail, kicking rocks and stomping on sticks for entertainment as my mind raced.

  Why did we ever think that robbing a convenience store was a good idea? It was just a fantasy—a fun way to pass the time…

  I found a log that looked comfortable and sat down. It felt like the weight of the world had come to rest on my shoulders. I wasn’t a criminal. I was just an ordinary girl—sure, I had a bit of a rebellious streak, but that was a normal part of growing up. I certainly didn’t want to go to prison. I let myself believe the fantasy could become reality. Violet and I could rob the convenience store, run away from Los Angeles, and start a brand new life somewhere else. We talked about the small apartment we would share while we looked for work—and possibly love. It was a nice fairy tale, but we were closer to incarceration than a happily ever after.

  It’ll be dark soon. I should probably start walking back home.

  I stood up and started walking. I figured it would make more sense to get out of the woods and circle the block so that I was coming home from the opposite direction than to exit near my house. If the police were still on my street, it would look a lot less suspicious. I hoped enough time had passed for the cops to give up. I hated that I didn’t have a cell phone to check in with Violet—I wouldn’t even know if she made it home okay until my foster parents let me use the computer. They certainly weren’t going to be feeling very generous after the fight we had that morning—so I might not get an opportunity until they went to bed. I pushed through to the edge of the woods and immediately realized I had walked a lot further than I thought.

  Oh wow, it’s going to take me a long time to get home from here…

  I considered walking back into the woods since it was a shortcut, but the sun was going down. I really didn’t want to stumble around in the dark as I tried to find the trail back home. I knew the general direction of my house, so I just started walking in that direction. It would be easier to figure out where I was once I reached the road. I assumed I was at the back end of the subdivision next to mine—that seemed logical since I couldn’t see any houses yet. After several minutes, I started to wonder if I had taken a wrong turn somewhere, because the area kept looking unfamiliar—not that I had fully explored it in the two years that I lived with my foster family. I paused and started looking in every direction—feeling a hint of panic flooding through my veins.

  If it gets dark and I still don’t know where I am, I’m going to be really lost. There should be some houses around here…

  I tried to shake off the panic and kept walking in the direction that should have taken me home, but instead, I saw a line of trees. I pondered the situation and decided that the undeveloped area must have been bigger than I thought, but I had to be close to the subdivision. I pushed through the line of trees and got a couple of scratches on my arms, but there was a road on the other side. I looked for a sign or lights that would guide me in the direction I should go, but I didn’t see any. The road looked different than the freshly paved ones in my neighborhood—it was old, and the pavement was broken in places. Still, I found a road—that was a good sign. The road had to lead somewhere. I started walking along the edge and kept my eyes peeled for cars—mainly cars that had blue and red lights on the top of them. I walked for nearly thirty minutes, and it kept getting darker—with no sign of a car or a house.

  Is that a driveway? It’s hard to tell…

  I reached a spot where the pavement gave way to concrete, and it did look like a driveway—but if it led to a house, then it was set back from the road a ways, or they didn’t have any lights on. The trees were a lot denser there, so it was possible that I just couldn’t see the house through them. I hated the thought of knocking on a random strangers door, but I was definitely lost. It didn’t seem like I had many other options. I had obviously gone the wrong direction entirely and was even willing to call my foster parents to come pick me up if it meant that I didn’t have to keep walking around in the dark. The driveway curved to the left and got steeper as I followed it—then I saw a rather large house in front of me.

  Well this definitely isn’t close to my neighborhood—I would have noticed a mansion in the middle of suburbia…

  I didn’t see any lights coming from the mansion, but the moon was bright enough for me to tell that it was pretty old. There was a rusted iron gate standing open, and past that, I could see a cracked fountain in the middle of the front yard. I walked up to it and saw that a rose bush had grown through the cracks, and the roses were rather large with a vibrant crimson hue. They were quite beautiful, and a stark contrast to the rest of the area, which didn’t have any sign of life—even the grass was withered and brown. It didn’t look like I was going to find anyone who could tell me where I was. The mansion looked abandoned.

  I guess I should just head back to the road—and walk in the opposite direction. That has to be the way home.

  Despite the urgency to get home, the mansion did spark a bit of curiosity. I decided to get a closer look before I left. I walked up the stairs that led to the porch and tried to peek through the windows, but there was a curtain that obstructed my view. The porch wrapped around the house so I tried to look in a few more windows, but I really couldn’t see anything because it was so dark. I walked around to the back of the house and found a
window that didn’t have a curtain. I cupped my hands against the glass and squinted—trying to make out what was inside. It appeared to be a kitchen. My eyes darted back and forth—then I saw a light—a digital clock on what appeared to be a microwave.

  Wait a second—this place can’t be completely abandoned if someone is paying to keep the power on.

  I continued walking along the porch and found another window where the curtains weren’t completely pulled shut. The moonlight illuminated that part of the house better than the kitchen. Based on what I could see through the glass, it looked like a living room. I could make out a large television, some furniture, and on the table next to the couch was a gold colored pocket watch. I shifted to the side and could see a hallway—outlines of photographs on the wall—and a glass cabinet with figurines. I took a step back, and my mind raced.

  I bet there are a few valuables in there. If that pocket watch is gold—it could be worth some money…

  I thought my brief attempt at being a criminal ended the moment I ran away from the convenience store—but maybe I wasn’t ready to get back on the straight and narrow quite yet. I didn’t want to just break in—not until I was sure that nobody was going to drive up as soon as I got the door open. I walked down to the driveway and took one last look at the house before I headed for the road. It would be easier to come back when it was daylight, and I could get a better look around. First, I had to find my way home. I walked in the opposite direction of the house for almost an hour before I finally heard the sound of cars—and saw signs of civilization. The road that led to the mansion connected with the highway that was close to my house—but it was clear that it wasn’t used much. I had probably passed it by it a few hundred times and never really noticed it. I walked along the highway until I reached my neighborhood, and thankfully, I didn’t see any police cars on my street.

 

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