Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Other books by Victorine:
Table Of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Other books by Victorine:
Falling for the Beast
Copyright © 2017 by Victorine E Lieske. All rights reserved.
First Kindle Edition: March 2017
Editor: Cherise Kelly
Cover and Formatting: Blue Valley Author Services
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Victorine E. Lieske
PO Box 493
Scottsbluff, NE 69363-0493
www.victorinelieske.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all those who have helped me with it. I couldn’t publish without you guys! My beta readers: Gina Barlean, Sabrina Sumsion, Julie Spencer, Crystal Walton, Megan Ruff, Jan Martin, Frankie Gubler, CK Volnek, Jenny Flake Rabe, Alicia Fabel, Delores Feeken Schmidt, Melanie Snitker, Rachel John, Amy Meyer, Jessica Randall, and Kris Noorman. You all were so helpful. And a huge thank you to my editor, Cherise Kelley. And my formatting team, Craig and Andie Hansen, who makes me look good. My books wouldn’t be the same without all of you!
Prologue
Thaddeus pounded on the door, fury sweeping through him making him quiver. The teenaged daughter answered, wide eyes staring at him.
“I demand to see her. Get her at once!”
The daughter disappeared into the house. The old woman walked up to the door, her lips pinched together, her gray hair pulled tight. “Yes?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m back.”
“As I recall, you agreed to the terms.”
He clenched his fists. “But you tricked me. And I want it reversed.”
“You must know I can’t do that.”
Thaddeus gritted his teeth and pounded on the door frame, cracking the wood. He grabbed her shirt, pulling her to his face. “Find a way!”
The old woman muttered something under her breath. It sounded like a different language.
“What are you doing?”
She continued speaking, her voice low and monotonous.
A humming started in his ears and grew louder until it screeched. He let go of the woman and fell to his knees, hands over his ears. “Stop!” he yelled.
His vision blurred. Pain filled his entire body. He tried to scream but it came out a roar. His teeth—they were growing. Sharpening. Gasping, he curled up on her porch and waited for it to end.
The old woman stopped speaking and looked at him with disgust.
“What have you done?” he whispered.
“I have only cursed you to be what you already were inside.”
His energy sapped, he could barely get the words out. “What’s that?”
“A beast.”
Chapter 1
Aribelle Cox squirmed in the hard, wooden chair while the woman behind the desk frowned at her application. The nameplate read, ‘Gertrude Woollcott, Accelerated Employment Temp Agency,’ and it fit her perfectly. Thin as a cracker with humongous red glasses perched on the end of her nose. With long red fingernails, Gertrude looked like an exotic bird. She sighed and put the papers on her desk. “You left the spot blank about where you’ve worked previously.”
Aribelle looked down at her lap. “I’ve never had a job.” Wow, she sounded pathetic. Who applied for their first job at age twenty-five? She had to have broken a world record or something.
“What have you done to support yourself?”
How could she explain she’d been taking care of her sick father while taking online classes to earn her degree? There hadn’t been time to work. Thankfully her father’s savings had provided enough for both of them. When he’d passed away two months ago, the little he had left had gone to cover his funeral expenses.
Maybe she should stick to the simple answer. “I was in school.”
Gertrude raised her eyebrows and picked up the application.
“I know my degree isn’t listed, but I’m only a few classes away from my bachelors.” Aribelle stumbled to redeem herself.
“I see. What kind of work are you hoping for?”
Aribelle swallowed hard. Ever since she was a child, all she wanted to do was write. No, nothing respectable like news articles. She wanted to write paranormal novels. She doubted Accelerated Employment would have a job like that. “I’ll take anything.”
Gertrude’s long fingernails clicked on the keyboard as she stared at the screen. “Do you have any experience doing clerical work?”
“No.”
“What about spreadsheets? Can you use Microsoft Excel?”
Her heart sank. “I don’t really know how to do spreadsheets.”
Gertrude clicked a few times, her frown returning. She shook her head, and Aribelle knew it wasn’t good news. She wasn’t qualified to do anything.
Gertrude peered at her over her glasses. “Do you cook?”
“A little.” Did heating up soup from a can count? “I mean, I’m no chef but I can cook basic meals.”
“What about cleaning?”
Now that she could do. “Yes. I’m a very good housekeeper.”
The woman nodded. “I think I found something for you. But it’s outside of Carson. Is that okay?”
Carson was
a city about thirty minutes away from their small town of Pleasant Hills. It would be an inconvenience, but she doubted she had the luxury to argue. “I’ll take it.”
“Good. You’ll be mostly cleaning and organizing for Mr. Thaddeus Walker. Some light cooking. Light caregiving. Pays twelve dollars an hour.”
“Perfect.” Aribelle smiled. She’d been doing that very thing, only this time she’d get paid for it. And she had no qualms about taking care of an elderly man.
Gertrude squinted at the screen. “Wait. There’s a problem.”
“What?”
Gertrude shook her head and clicked her tongue. “It’s your age.”
Aribelle sat up straighter in her chair. “I assure you, I have lots of experience. I’ve been the sole caretaker of my father for the past nine years.”
“I’m going to have to speak to my supervisor.” Gertrude stood and briskly left the room.
Aribelle folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. She needed this job. She’d already applied everywhere else in town. Silently, she pleaded for them to allow her to prove herself to the old man.
A skinny, young girl entered the room. She didn’t look any older than Aribelle herself. She extended her hand. “I’m Grace. I need to apologize. The position Gertrude offered you isn’t available.”
Panic swelled in Aribelle. “I swear I can do the job.”
Grace chewed a piece of gum and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid the client is quite particular about who he wants us to send him.”
“How about a trial run?” Boy, was she screaming desperate or what? She knew she was grasping at straws, but what else could she do? “If I can’t do the job to his satisfaction, you can replace me.”
Grace tapped the desk, chewing on that blasted gum. Aribelle imagined her swelling up like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka and having to roll her out of the room. She forced herself not to laugh. Sometimes her imagination got the best of her. The last thing she needed to do was break out in giggles right now.
Grace sighed. “Well, we have had trouble filling this position. The last three we sent have all quit within a week.”
Oh, no. That was a huge red flag. What was she getting herself into? What kind of awful old man was he? It didn’t matter. She had to pay her rent. She stood. “I can do this.”
Grace frowned then nodded. “All right. We can put you in on a trial basis. We’ll check with Mr. Walker in a week to see how things are going.” She pulled out a business card and wrote on the back. “Here’s the address. You can start on Monday.”
Thaddeus Walker gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle. His leather gloves tightened against his hands. It had been two days since he last went out. His broken ribs still hurt when he moved, but they had healed enough. He slipped his helmet on, listening.
He revved the engine before taking off down the long driveway. The brisk night air rushed past him. He pulled out onto the road, tall trees flying by as he continued down the hill. The thrill of the speed twisted his stomach and filled his veins with adrenaline.
The full moon lit the way as he headed toward Carson. Toward what, he couldn’t guess. It was different each night. Some nights he cruised the streets, finding no one, and nothing happening. He would return home at sunrise, partially relieved. Other nights…well, it was those nights that left him in extreme pain. But he had no choice. He had to do it. It was the only way he’d found to keep the beast inside.
Aribelle swallowed her nerves and got into her 1982 Volkswagen Rabbit. “Come on, Bunny,” she said under her breath as she cranked the key. The car grudgingly sprang to life. She caressed the dashboard. “You know you love me.”
Her father bought the car for her at an auction when she was sixteen. It was love at first sight. Sure, the red paint had faded over the years, and the convertible top wasn’t in great condition, but it had personality. Much better than the newer cars that all looked the same. She dreaded the day when she’d have to give it up.
The drive wasn’t too bad with the radio on full blast. When she turned off the highway, the trees grew thicker and she saw the appeal in living this far outside of town. It was beautiful. And peaceful. She drove up the long driveway, staring at the huge home. This was what she was supposed to clean? No wonder he needed a full-time person. It was more a castle than a house. Made of gray stone, it was two stories tall, and monstrous.
She parked her car and got out. She could do this. All she had to do was clean and maybe cook a meal here or there. She’d be fine. As she walked closer, she imagined the creepy house from A Series of Unfortunate Events, and she wondered if she was about to step into something dreadful. Was her story about to take a sinister turn? Shaking off the unwanted feelings, she knocked on the large wooden door.
The seconds ticked by. Could he even hear her? She should have asked Bird Lady. She knocked louder. When no one answered, she almost gave up, but then she remembered there might be some caretaking included in the job. Maybe the old man was an invalid. He could be having trouble getting to the door.
She knocked a third time — prepared to wait a while, but startled when the door opened a crack.
“What do you want?” The gruff voice came from the darkness beyond the door. She could barely make out the shape of a man.
“I’m Aribelle Cox. Accelerated Employment sent me. I’m here to be your new housekeeper.” She gave him her best professional smile.
“Go away,” he growled. “I don’t want you. They’ve sent the wrong person.”
He started to close the door, but she put her hand out to stop him. “I assure you, I can do the job.”
The man stepped closer. He wore a hoodie, the top down so far his face was completely in shadows. “No.”
The door once again moved to shut and she did the only thing she could think of. She clasped her hands together and begged. “Please. My rent is due and I don’t have anywhere else I can go. I’ve applied everywhere, with no response. If you’d give me a chance, I know I could do the work.”
He hesitated, so she persisted. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”
An eternity stretched out as he considered her request. Finally, he turned away, leaving the door open. “Fine. You can start in the master bathroom, upstairs.”
He shuffled down the entryway. She followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. He wore gray sweatpants to match his hoodie. “Thank you, Mr. Walker. You won’t regret it.” He made a grunting noise, but she ignored it.
“There are cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, and in the cabinet in the master bathroom. Just do your job and leave me alone.” He walked over to the recliner in the living room and eased himself down, grabbing at his stomach like it hurt to move. He lifted the footrest and leaned back.
“I can help you—”
“No!” he shouted without turning, his voice echoing off the walls, and she cowered back. “Just clean.”
“Okay, Mr. Walker.” She hurried up the steps to find the bathroom.
When she entered, she could see why he needed a cleaning lady. Dirty towels lay on the floor, and dried blood stained the sink. The toilet had a brown ring on the inside, and the room smelled musty. She sighed and got out the cleaning supplies from the cabinet.
After an hour of scrubbing, she had the bathroom sparkling. Unsure of where to go next, she went downstairs to find the grumpy master of the house. Hopefully, he wouldn’t bite her head off. As she entered the room, he spoke without turning his head. “Next you can clean the kitchen. You can take a break for lunch, but don’t come bother me.”
It was strange, he hadn’t taken his hood off his head. She didn’t even know what he looked like. “Okay,” she said, making the best of the situation. At least he hadn’t yelled at her this time.
The bathroom had needed attention, but the kitchen was a disaster area. Dirty dishes piled up, s
tuck on food making the job even harder. An unpleasant smell came from the sink, where she found a bowl filled with milk that was slowly turning into some science experiment. She held her breath and dumped the contents down the disposal while running the water.
She washed the dishes and figured out where they went. She ate her lunch in the car, then continued to clean off the counters and mop the dirty floor. When she was done, she smiled at herself. There was no way he’d turn her away now. She’d made the place shine.
She hadn’t seen him get anything to eat while she’d been there, so she timidly entered the living room. He looked like he was asleep in his recliner, the television over the fireplace droning on, but when she started to back out he stirred. She cleared her throat. “Do you want me to make you a sandwich before I leave, Mr. Walker?”
“No,” he said without turning. “You may go.” He dismissed her with a wave. It was then that she noticed a white bandage wrapped around his hand, a bright red spot forming on the back.
“You’re bleeding.” She ran and knelt to examine him. “Did you fall and cut your hand?” She picked up his bandaged fingers, only to have confusion flow through her. These were not the fingers of an old man.
She peered up into his hooded face and gasped. Thaddeus Walker was young. Maybe not even thirty. Long, dark hair hung in his face, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few weeks. Just below his right eye, a large jagged scar extended down his cheek, disappearing into his growing stubble. The rest of the skin on his face was littered with smaller white scars as if he had fallen face-first into a bowl of razor blades. The sight of it made her flinch.
His bright, green eyes burned with fury. He yanked his hand away from her. “Get out!”
She fell backward and scrambled to her feet. “I’m sorry…I—”
“Go!” he yelled, picking up the remote control and throwing it at the wall. It shattered, leaving a dent.
She didn’t have to be told again. She grabbed her purse and ran to the front door. Rushing out into the evening, she didn’t bother to look back. Her heart pounded as she started her Rabbit and drove down the hill toward the highway. It didn’t matter how much she needed the money. She wasn’t ever going back there. Thaddeus Walker was a beast.
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