Falling For the Devil
Isadora Brown
Contents
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Acknowledgments
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Also by Isadora Brown
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Prologue
Harleen Campbell walked into the Costa Mesa apartment, a frown etched onto her face as she wiped her hands together. She was dressed in a maroon collared shirt, black slacks, and black shoes – her uniform for her job. She was a box office clerk at the Regal movie theatre located in the Triangle Square shopping center. The apartment she shared with her uncle was located three stories up, so she always had a long trek up and down the stairs whenever she left the apartment and whenever she came back.
Harleen’s grey-green eyes locked onto her uncle’s lazy figure. Edgar Brown, her mother’s brother, was sprawled out on the couch, watching reruns of Judge Hatchett. She sneered in disgust. It was moments like this when she missed her parents more than anything in the world. They had passed away together, crossing the street and getting sideswiped by a drunk driver. They didn’t stand a chance. Since Harleen was underage, she needed some sort of guardian, and the only option nearby was Edgar, her uncle. At that time, he had had a job and seemed like a good choice, but months after that, he got fired and didn’t feel like getting another one.
So Harleen had to get one. She had been working at that movie theatre for two and a half years now. It was March, and Harleen decided she wanted to finish up her senior year on her terms. So two weeks before, she put in her notice and today happened to be her last day. Relief swam over her, but she knew it wouldn’t last very long only because she knew she supported both she and her uncle. Her paycheck barely managed to pay for the rent and utilities, leaving enough spending money to get Edgar two cartons of cigarettes.
Yes, Harleen’s life wasn’t exactly a fairytale, but she refused to be the victim, and only her boyfriend and best friend new about her current predicament. She didn’t like people knowing her business only because she hated the fact that people might pity her or feel sorry for her. She would simply rather keep everything to herself, and that’s what she did.
“How was work?” Edgar asked, tilting his head up so he could look at his niece.
Harleen hid a smirk by pressing her lips together, and silently cleared her throat. She could not wait for this moment, and she took a few minutes to revel in the calm before the storm. “Today was my last day,” she said, and though she had tried, she had a smile on her face.
“What?” he yelped and sat straight up, his hazel eyes narrowing at Harleen. “You’re kidding, right? You’re trying to play a joke on your ol’ uncle, right?”
Harleen pressed her lips together once again, but a smile still broke through like the sun breaking through the storm. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No. I put in my two weeks’ notice two weeks ago. Today is my last day.”
Edgar stood up, and he might have been intimidating if he was five inches taller and had muscle mass. Edgar was scrawny and five foot six. He had a full head of chestnut hair, a smooth tan (though now that he was fifty-four, his skin was wrinkled) due to his surfing adventures when he was younger. Edgar could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be, and when Harleen was younger, she admired him for his way with words and for the friends he seemed to make rather easily. But now Harleen saw through to Edgar’s manipulating skills to what he really was: a loser. Edgar was a loser, simple as that.
Ever since he got released from his position, Edgar had yet to find another job. Not only that, but every time Harleen asked him why he wouldn’t get a job, he would complain that a snowboarding incident which happened four years ago still bothered him. Harleen thought it was bullshit and told him as much. They clashed all the time, and there were moments when Harleen would daydream about a time when she could run away from everything and be on her own.
God, she couldn’t wait until she graduated from high school.
“Why would you do that, Harl?” Edgar asked, furrowing his brow so low that it rode over his eyes. “God, sometimes you are so selfish. Please tell me that you are joking. You realize we have to pay rent, don’t you? The bills? You are joking, aren’t you?”
“No, Edgar,” Harleen said, shaking her head. “I’m not joking. I quit the theatre. I’m not working there anymore. I’m going to have a good rest of my senior year, and I don’t want any amount of pressure on me because I’m taking a couple of AP classes and I’m already up to my eyeballs with work and” -
“You think I give a shit about your classes, Harl?” Edgar asked. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now that you have no job?”
“I know what I’m going to do,” Harleen told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m going to enjoy the rest of my senior year. I don’t know what you’re going to do, though I do have a tiny suggestion. Why don’t you get off your lazy ass and get a job, hmm?”
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Edgar said dangerously, narrowing his eyes even more. “You watch your mouth when you’re talking to me. I am your elder and you will respect me.”
“First of all,” Harleen said, her voice just as cutting as her uncle’s, “you are not my mom or my dad, so you do not get to boss me around and tell me what to do. And secondly, just because you’re older than I am doesn’t mean I automatically respect you. I only respect people who deserve to be respected and quite frankly, you don’t deserve to be respected.” With that, she turned around and headed back out the door, deciding to spend the night with one of her friends rather than here. She could borrow Bethany’s clothing too, because they were roughly the same size anyways.
Edgar dropped his mouth, unsure of what to do, but was most definitely surprised at the gall his niece had. If she had been reacting to anyone else, he would have been proud at the way she stood up for herself. However, she wasn’t telling someone else to get off his lazy ass and get a job - she was telling him. And if Edgar hated anything, he hated someone – especially someone younger than he was – telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. If he wanted to lie around all day, watching his stories and talk shows, that’s what he would be doing. Hell, his collarbone from his snowboarding accident hadn’t healed yet anyways so it wasn’t like he didn’t want to get a job, he just couldn’t.
“I would sell my soul to the devil just to be rich,” he muttered, placing his hands on his hips and staring at the door, almost as though he tried to will Harleen to come back in, to tell him it was all a joke so that e
verything would be all right.
“Sorry to say, mate, but she’s not coming back,” an Australian voice said from behind Edgar, causing the smaller man to jump. There was no way somebody could get here save for the front door; they were on the third floor for crying out loud.
Edgar turned and felt his body tense before lifting his hands in defense. “Listen, I don’t have anything you want,” he said. “Please just leave. I promise I won’t say anything.” His heart beat fast, but he hoped beyond hope that this man wouldn’t actually take anything because in all honesty, he didn’t have much to his name.
“I don’t want anything here,” the man said, glancing around as even the notion he would take anything was offensive to him. He looked back over at Edgar and smiled crookedly. “Well, that’s not true. What I want just walked out of this door.”
Edgar shook his head with obvious confusion. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he murmured.
“Right, of course not,” the man said. “Well, I should probably introduce myself. Oh, what do you call me here in America? The devil right? I am the devil, but I do have a name I like to be called. Andrew. That’s what I like to be called.”
“Wait, you’re telling me you’re the devil?” Edgar asked, his tone skeptical, arching a brow. Edgar never went to college, didn’t exactly know a lot, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m here to give you what you want,” Andrew said, shrugging his shoulders as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Wealth, right? You want to be rich. That’s what you said, right? I can give it to you.”
Edgar swallowed, now less doubtful of the man before him, but scared nonetheless. “For my soul?” he asked in a quiet voice, now debating whether or not he was wanted to give up what had belonged to him since even before birth for money.
Andrew’s face contorted into a frown. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want your soul.” Another crooked smile touched his lips. “I want your niece’s.”
For whatever reason, Edgar felt a wave of relief sweep through his body and he felt his body relax. “Done,” he said without hesitation.
Andrew reached out his hand and Edgar shook it.
“Done,” Andrew agreed, and with a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.
One
It was two weeks later. Harleen had just picked up her last check from her previous job at the movie theatre, and then she was supposed to meet her uncle at a house in Dover Shores, which was located in Newport Beach. She wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted her to meet him there; maybe he had gotten some kind of construction job and wanted to show off about it, but Harleen didn’t exactly believe that he could get a job so quickly. Nonetheless, it didn’t matter. She drove from Triangle Square to Dover Shores, which took about ten minutes, and it took her a little longer before she finally found the house.
The first thing Harleen noticed about it (besides the fact that there was no construction work on the house) was just how big it was. There were two stories that made up the house, but the lot it was on had a huge backyard including a swimming pool. It looked more modern than some of the other houses on the street, but it fit in just as well. She saw her uncle’s white truck sitting out in the driveway, and her thoughts went back to why she was there, why either of them was there.
Maybe it was one of his stupid friends who lived here. Maybe they were going to have dinner with the guy and Harleen would have to deal with Edgar telling this millionaire person who owned the house how Edgar could invest the money and triple the revenue or something. Harleen would stop listening because she knew what bullshit it was. Edgar didn’t know anything about money or else he would have some of his own and not depend of his niece to keep their finances afloat.
Harleen walked up to the door and knocked before running her fingers through her hair. She didn’t want to be here and have to deal with people she either didn’t know or didn’t like, or some variation of both. A moment later, Edgar answered the door, surprising her.
“Hey,” he said, a slightly triumphant smirk tainting his face. “Welcome to your new digs, Harl.”
Harleen walked through the doors, chuckling as she did so. Her uncle had the most random imagination. “Right Edgar,” she murmured, taking in the marble floor, the grand staircase, the oak that made up the banister on the second floor. “Are you renting this place from anyone?”
“No one,” Edgar said, and surprisingly enough, he didn’t seem upset by Harleen’s lack of faith in him. In fact, it only seemed to further that triumphant smirk. “This is our place.”
“Oh come on,” Harleen said in disbelief. “What, are you trying to get me back for quitting my job? How could you possibly afford something like this in only two weeks? That’s impossible, Edgar. This is a house in Dover Shores, not some shack in Costa Mesa.”
“I moved everything from our apartment here while you were at school,” Edgar explained, ignoring her doubt. “It’s completely paid off – we don’t have to worry about nothing. Your room is located right…” He let his voice trail of, tilting his head up and squinting his eyes as he glanced up at the second story. “…there.” He reached up and pointed at the left side of the banister where he could see a fraction of a door. “Go check it out for yourself. All your stuff is there.”
“Okay Edgar, you got me,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Whose house is this really?”
“Ours,” Edgar said. “You told me to get a job, I got one. I decided to buy a new house though. I felt our apartment, you know, was a little small. And you know what they say about accessories? I had to get everything to go along with the house. So…” He let his voice trail off as he regarded Harleen with a look that just asked her to challenge him so he could further prove what he was saying.
Harleen was immediately suspicious. She had lived with her uncle long enough to know when he lied to her, and he seemed to believe that this was his house. Maybe he was getting delusional, or maybe… What kind of job gave somebody millions of dollars in two weeks? There was absolutely no way this was possible. He had to be getting the money some other way, and Harleen prayed to God it wasn’t anything illegal. As much as she disliked her uncle, she didn’t want him to go to jail unless he deserved it.
“Why don’t you go check out your room, Harl?” Edgar said, the smile still on his face and laced in his tone. “You know, get a feel for it. You’ll be living here for a good portion of time. But make sure you’re down here by six, okay? That’s when dinner will be, and we have a very important guest joining us, so make sure you look pretty.”
Harleen rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs. What a typical guy thing to say to her. Make sure you look pretty. Who was this guest anyways? A contact? An associate from this new job of his? And was Edgar really cooking dinner? He couldn’t make oatmeal, let alone an actual meal. If he wanted to impress this guy – and Edgar always looked for different ways to impress different people – he probably hired some chef.
Where the fuck did he get this money?
Harleen shook her head. Don’t even think about it, Harl. You probably don’t even want to know. She headed left once she reached the top of the stairs and stopped when she recognized one of her posters rolled up and leaning against the door Edgar had pointed out was hers. She grabbed it and opened the door. As she looked around the room, her mouth dropped. Her new bedroom was huge, and, as Edgar had promised, all of her stuff was in there, plus a new bed, a set of drawers, a desk, and a bookshelf.
How was this even possible? Nothing came for free. How –
Harl, a warning voice murmured in her mind, and Harleen forced all of her thoughts to vanish.
Instead, she walked over to her bed, dropped her bag on the floor, and plopped down on the comforter covering her bed. She reached down and grabbed her cell phone, smiling when she saw that she had a text message from her boyfriend.
How are you?
Goodness, she felt so in love with Rosco. Rosco. Wide receiver for their varsity
football team. He was good looking and sweet and, despite being a jock, quite smart. He was more than just some stereotype. He always managed to text her at just the right time, whenever she was upset about something at work, angry at her uncle, and the best part about it was that he genuinely wanted to know if everything was all right.
Harleen replied with, As good as it can be. Thanks.
She let a sigh slip out of her nose and glanced out the window. The sun began to set in the west, and she felt her heart beat pound when she realized she could see the ocean from her house. Okay, so she didn’t believe what Edgar had said – that he managed to get all of this money through one job - but something inside of her hoped that it was true. Maybe she was being too hard on him. The least she could do in return for a nice room, a beautiful home, was to be on her best behavior tonight with this mystery guest. Or, at the very least, look pretty.
It took her a while to find clothing, but she got dressed in what she thought was appropriate. She brushed her hair for a good five minutes and placed it into a high ponytail. She, however, refused to wear makeup. She didn’t want to put some on just for this dinner and then spend a half an hour taking it off of her face. As she headed down the stairs, the doorbell rang.
“Harl, could you get that?” Edgar asked from the kitchen.
Maybe being rich caused Edgar to suddenly want to know how to cook after all.
Harleen stood on her toes to see who was outside, and it turned out to be someone who looked to be around her age, maybe a couple of years older. This was the special guest? She opened the door where she could study him better. He was six foot and well-built, although muscle mass didn’t consume his entire body. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders in messy curls, and his hazel eyes were incredibly deep. He wore a grey long sleeved shirt that hugged his toned body and black pants, as well as matching dark combat boots on his feet. He looked more rugged than anything, but Harleen had to admit he had a nice chiseled face.
Falling for the Devil: Book 1 of the Gods & Monsters Trilogy Page 1
