Falling for the Beast

by Victorine E. Lieske

  He stopped by the door, not turning around. “You want to be a better writer? Then write.”

  She pressed her lips together to stop herself from saying anything rude. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever written anything. She had. Granted, it had been years, but she really wanted to focus on school first. And he had no business butting in.

  “You can make lunch,” he said before disappearing into the other room.

  She wanted to follow after him, tell him he was wrong. But she sat there instead, heat creeping up her neck. Of all the nerve. What did he know about it, anyway? She would start writing when she was ready. And she wasn’t ready yet. He wouldn’t understand because he wasn’t a writer.

  She swiped the damp cloth over the shelf she was working on. He could wait until she was done if he wanted lunch. He was a jerk.

  A knock on the front door sounded and she froze. Who could be here? She got the impression Thaddeus wasn’t the social type. She set her cloth down and crept over to the doorway. Maybe she could see who was there.

  Thaddeus answered the door, speaking in a voice too low for her to hear. A woman’s voice answered. They conversed for a moment, and then he stepped back. Whoever it was, he’d let her in.

  Chapter 6

  Aribelle almost fell over trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman who stood talking to Thaddeus. He was standing in the way, so she couldn’t see anything except for some blonde hair. When he didn’t move, she decided it was silly for her to be peeking into the other room, like a child. She was a grown woman who could go talk to another grown woman if she wanted to.

  She straightened her back and walked into the living room. As she approached, Thaddeus pointed at her. “This is Aribelle.”

  The woman smiled warmly. She looked to be in her late fifties, with platinum blonde hair and laugh lines. She was much shorter than Thaddeus, and he towered over her. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Evelyn. I come by every Friday.”

  She held two reusable bags stuffed full of groceries, and Aribelle took one from her. “Let me help you with these.”

  “Thank you.” Evelyn walked toward the kitchen. Aribelle followed, and Thaddeus stayed behind.

  When they were out of earshot, she casually asked, “So, you shop for Mr. Walker?”

  Evelyn nodded and set her sack down on the counter. “I pick up the essentials. He doesn’t like to go out.”

  Intensely curious, Aribelle grabbed a loaf of bread and slid it into place on the shelf. “How long have you known him?”

  “Almost all his life.”

  Jackpot. She’d found someone who could shed some light on this mystery man she was working for.

  Evelyn eyed Aribelle suspiciously. “You’re much younger than his usual hires.”

  “The agency said they’d been having trouble filling this position. I’m here on a trial run.”

  “Ah.” The suspicion changed into scrutiny for a brief moment before Evelyn turned back to putting away the groceries.

  The silence was killing Aribelle, and after a minute she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What happened to him?” she blurted.

  Evelyn frowned and lowered her voice. “An accident. He doesn’t like to talk about it. It took his father’s life, and left him—like this.” She pointed to the other room with her chin. “He’s a good man. Just a little…rough around the edges.”

  Aribelle didn’t want to start talking about how rough around the edges he was. She was still upset about the way he’d spoken to her about her writing. But she was too curious about him to stop asking questions. “What’s he do at night? On his motorcycle?”

  Surprise widened Evelyn’s eyes before she could hide it. She picked up a can of beans and turned away from Aribelle to put it in the cupboard. “I wouldn’t know.”

  That was an obvious lie, and it frustrated her. This woman knew something and wouldn’t tell her. “Who hurts him?” she asked, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was happening.

  Evelyn froze and slowly turned around. “It is best if we don’t speak of some things.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Is he doing something illegal?”

  The woman’s gaze softened, and she patted Aribelle on the hand. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “He has suffered much since his father’s death. He deserves our kindness.” Evelyn folded up one of the bags and put it under the crook of her arm. “He’s a private man. If I were you, I’d keep your questions to yourself.”

  Evelyn picked up the other bag and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Aribelle said, stopping Evelyn. “Can’t you tell me anything?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. He doesn’t want me to say anything, and it’s best not to make him angry.” Something flashed in her eyes. Was it fear? She disappeared around the corner.

  Aribelle heard her speak briefly to Thaddeus and then leave. Frustration welled in Aribelle. What was going on around here? He wouldn’t harm anyone, would he?

  She thought about his temper…the way he’d seemed to lose control. Maybe Evelyn was right. Maybe it was best not to anger him. Maybe he was…dangerous.

  Before she could think about it, Thaddeus appeared in the doorway, and her heart beat wildly in her chest. He stood there, studying her. She tried to think of something to say to him. “Um, what would you like me to make for lunch?” Her voice sounded funny, but she couldn’t help it.

  He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “Up to you.”

  It was hard to think with him standing there, staring at her. A cold chill worked its way down her spine. She turned to the sink, mostly to catch her breath without him seeing how he was affecting her. “I could make sandwiches again.”

  His footsteps sounded as he crossed the kitchen and stopped behind her. He was close enough she swore she could feel the heat from him radiating onto her back. “Are you okay?” he asked his deep voice just a whisper behind her.

  She swallowed and clutched the edge of the sink. “I’m fine.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him reach out as if he wanted to touch her shoulder, and she stiffened. He hesitated and then drew his hand back. Then he was gone. She turned to see she was alone in the kitchen, wondering if she’d imagined him there all along.

  She took a shaky breath and pulled out the lunch meat, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. Why was she so afraid? She needed to get a grip. If she acted fearful of him, he’d surely notice.

  The sandwiches didn’t take long to make. She added chips and a pickle spear to the plates and set them on the table. Before calling him to lunch, she brought out two glasses and filled them with chilled water from the refrigerator.

  Thaddeus entered the room before she had a chance to call him. He pulled out his chair and sat down. He was frowning, and she wondered if she’d upset him. She set the glasses down and sat opposite him. “I hope water is okay.”

  He nodded and picked up his food, not saying anything else. They ate in silence. She tried not to look at him, not to notice how easily he could overpower her if he wanted to. His leather jacket didn’t do much to hide his muscles. Even his hands were muscular, beneath the scars. If he wanted to, he could… She swallowed a bite and shook her head. No. He hadn’t touched her this entire week. What made her think he was capable of harming her? Because of Evelyn? She barely knew the woman.

  As she ate, she watched him. He was angry, but she didn’t get the feeling he was capable of hurting her. In fact, there was something gentle about him. Maybe it was the way his eyes carried compassion. Or the way he would look at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

  She imagined him as a misunderstood character like the Phantom of the Opera: hiding his face from the world, finding only cruelty there. But the Phantom did kill people, so maybe that wasn’t such a
great comparison. The Grinch? That might work. Grouchy until someone was kind to him. Maybe if she showed Thaddeus some kindness he wouldn’t act so mean.

  When he was finished eating, he picked up his plate and glass and went into the kitchen. She stared at him, not sure she’d ever seen him clean up after himself.

  “I’m going upstairs,” he said as he came back into the room. “You can finish cleaning the library, and then be done for the day. Don’t come back until Monday.”

  After he’d left the room, she sat there and stared at the potato chips left on her plate. He was agitated, but she wasn’t sure what she had done to upset him. She and Evelyn had spoken so quietly, he couldn’t have overheard. And she didn’t think he was mad over her cleaning the library.

  She sighed, washed the dishes, and finished dusting the library. He didn’t come down, and she left without saying anything else to him.

  Thaddeus stood at his bedroom window and watched Aribelle walk across the circular driveway and climb into her car. Sleep had evaded him again, so he was left to stew about the situation he had allowed to happen. The girl was asking too many questions. Noticing too much. He needed to fire her. Should have done it already, but didn’t have the courage.

  She was too beautiful. Too intelligent. And too much a reminder of things he couldn’t have. He let the curtain drop. He knew what he had to do.

  Aribelle turned on the oven and pulled out the frozen lasagna she had planned to make last night. It was meant for two people. She’d purchased it before her father had passed, but hadn’t had a chance to make it. She couldn’t keep shoving it to the back of the freezer. Even if she had to save the leftovers, she needed to make it. Her throat grew scratchy and she swallowed and pulled her sweater tighter around her.

  Her father had gotten sick when she was a senior in high school. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and within a year he had lost his job and was struggling to get out of bed in the morning. She put off going to college, thinking if they could do a few more tests, they could figure it out and cure him. That hadn’t worked. One year became two, and then three. She enrolled in online classes so she could work toward her degree and still take care of him.

  She picked up one of the puzzle pieces scattered on the table and stared at it. Her father loved working jigsaw puzzles. He’d spread one out on the table and work on it for weeks. Kept his mind sharp, he’d say. Then, when he’d finally get it done, he’d pack it all up and put it back in the box. She always complained that he didn’t leave it together for a while so they could enjoy the pretty picture. He would smile and say that the challenge was the fun part, and he was ready for another challenge. She stared at the puzzle until she was able to put a piece in place. Emotion swelled in her throat and she blinked back tears. She missed him so much.

  When the lasagna was done, she scooped her portion out onto a plate and went into the living room to eat. She set the plate down on the coffee table and flipped on the television, scanning the channels for something to watch.

  After supper, Aribelle cleaned up her dishes and went to bed. The weekend was going to be her chance to catch up on the latest Mackenzie Nicholas novel: paranormal romance with suspense. She couldn’t wait to crack the spine.

  She turned on her bedside lamp and snuggled against the pillows. But as she read, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Thaddeus had said to her.

  “Writers write. That’s what they do.”

  Once again, the annoyance stirred in her. He didn’t know anything about it. Why did his words make her upset? Was there any truth to them?

  She balked at the idea. Was she not a writer after all? Of course, she was. That was what she’d wanted to do since she finished reading the Narnia chronicles when she was eight years old. She hadn’t wanted the story to end. She’d thought of ways she could write more books in the same world and knew that someday she would create a world of her own. A world that others would want to live in as much as she wanted to live in Narnia.

  Shutting the book, she frowned. The words wouldn’t stick in her head. Maybe she would try reading more tomorrow. She slipped the book onto the nightstand and clicked off her light.

  Chapter 7

  The weekend seemed to stretch on forever. Thaddeus couldn’t sleep during the day, and at night he was driven to the streets. But even while he sped down the lifeless dark highways, he couldn’t get Aribelle out of his head.

  All he wanted to do was see her again. No. Not just see her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her close. Taste her sweet lips. Drink her in and never let her go.

  By Sunday afternoon he was more than anxious to see her again. It clawed at him from the inside, making him regret ever opening the door for her. He pulled out his leather-bound journal. He’d been writing in it since he was young and had no one else he could talk to. It gave him a sense of peace to be able to share his thoughts on the pages. He spilled all his conflicting feelings about Aribelle.

  After he slid his journal back in the drawer, he scrubbed his hand over his face and looked out the window once again. The large oak tree in front of his house flapped its dying leaves in the October breeze. A squirrel ran across the lawn.

  He pulled the heavy curtains shut and sat on his bed. Every time he got near his recliner, her smell overpowered him, reminding him of who he was now. Not human. A monster.

  He couldn’t keep seeing her. It was driving him crazy.

  He picked up his cell and dialed the employment service. No one was there on a Sunday, but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway. When the answering machine came on, he said, “This is Thaddeus Walker. It’s not working out with the girl you sent. Find her another job. I want a new housekeeper. Please stick to the original agreement.”

  He hung up the call and threw his cell across the room, denting the wall and shattering the phone. This was his fault, and he would have to live with the consequences.

  Aribelle quickly stepped out of the shower and ran the towel over her skin before plugging in the hair dryer. She was late and didn’t have time to put on makeup. She didn’t even have time to fully dry her hair. She rushed to throw on some clothes before stepping into her fake leather boots, grabbing her purse, and heading out to her car.

  As she walked across the sidewalk to her parking space she noticed someone leaning up against her Rabbit.

  Gavin. Ugh. What was he doing, waiting for her?

  He gave her a smile which was more of a leer. “Hey, babe. Where you off to this morning?” He folded his beefy arms across his chest.

  “I have a job. And I’m late. Sorry.” She started to worm her way past him, but he moved so she couldn’t get to her door.

  “Wanna come over Wednesday? The boys and I are having a Halloween party. It’ll be epic.” He stretched out the word ‘epic’ and made a movement with his hands, suggesting something big.

  “Sorry, I can’t.” She took a step closer, thinking he would get the hint and move out of the way, but instead he took it as an invitation to pull her close, his hands around her waist.

  “Why not, doll face?”

  His breath smelled of cigarette smoke and stale beer, and she jerked away from him. “Gavin. Stop it. You know I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “You’re beautiful. We’d be good together.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Loosen up.” He moved to snake his arm around her again, but she stepped back.

  She held up her purse. “I have pepper spray in here. I don’t want to use it on you.” Lie. Two lies, actually. She didn’t have any, but she would love to spray some on him.

  He held up his hands in a surrender motion. “Woah, chill. I just thought you might want to have some Halloween fun. That’s all.” He backed away from her.

  “Like I said, I can’t.” She opened her car door and slid into the driver’s seat, locking the door after
her.

  Gavin pointed at her, his gaze penetrating. “Next time, then.”

  “Sure,” she said under her breath. “When I wake up and we’re in an alternate universe.” She sped out of the parking lot, her hands shaking. He’d never grabbed at her like that before. Sure, he was annoying, but this bordered on something more sinister. She’d have to be more careful around him.

  She checked the clock. Eight forty-five. If she topped the speed limit a little, she wouldn’t be too late. Maybe Thaddeus wouldn’t notice.

  She was pulling into his driveway when her cell phone rang and she glanced down to see who was calling. Accelerated Employment. What did they want? She stopped the car in her usual spot and picked up her phone. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Cox? This is Grace with Accelerated Employment. I’m sorry to tell you the trial run has not gone very well. Mr. Walker would like to sever the relationship. We don’t have anything at this time, but if you call in a couple of weeks, we might be able to find you something else.”

  Aribelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What?”

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

  He had fired her? And he didn’t even have the courage to say it to her face? Heat crept up her neck, and she thanked Grace and hung up the phone. If Thaddeus Walker thought he could get rid of her like that, he was wrong.

  She stormed out of her car and pounded on his door. “Open up! I know you’re in there,” she yelled, eyeballing his motorcycle.

  When he didn’t answer the door, she pounded again. “I can’t believe you. I did everything you asked. I put up with your horrible attitude. I cleaned and cooked for you. I did my job well. You have no reason to fire me!”

  The rustling of the leaves was her only answer. She took several steps back and looked up at the cold, stone home. The sunlight glinted off the upstairs window. Had the curtain moved? Was he up there looking at her? “Come down here and tell me to my face that you’re firing me!”