Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
FERAL KING
Sparrow Beckett
Belfry Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by Sparrow Beckett
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and events in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
This book contains scenarios that should not be attempted or emulated.
Cover art by Rebel Book Designs
Edited by Nerine Dorman
Chapter One
Minnow was pretty sure her ears were bleeding. Henry’s Coffee Emporium was a cacophony of sound, making it necessary for her to answer Ms. Sutton’s interview questions at a volume that was neither polite nor pleasant. Why had Minnow suggested Ms. Sutton meet her here on a Saturday?
Stupid.
It was better than doing the interview at her rundown apartment, though, and it was too cold to go to the park. Meeting at a restaurant would have required money, which Minnow didn’t have. She smoothed the front of her coffee-stained uniform, wishing she’d at least had time to change. Ms. Sutton’s expensive clothing put Minnow at a psychological disadvantage.
“So you’re used to dealing with difficult clients?”
“Yes, my most recent client was very difficult – at least initially. Her family and the caregivers before I was hired weren’t able to convince her to cooperate with basic activities of daily living. After only a few weeks we became friends, and she let her guard down. I can be convincing, or even firm when it’s important.”
Ninety-six-year-old Sophia had resisted eating, bathing, sleeping, or anything else she was supposed to do. Minnow had found ways to motivate her to accept help, and eventually Sophia had loved and trusted her more than her own children. It had been a hard loss for Minnow when the older woman passed away.
Ms. Sutton nodded.
“Have you ever had a client who used foul language or berated you?”
“Yes. It doesn’t bother me.” Maybe it bothered her a little, but with the amount of money they were offering for this position, handling a bit of verbal abuse wouldn’t be the end of the world. Not always having rent money at the end of the month and often not having enough food – now that bothered her. It was all a matter of perspective.
“What is your five-year plan?”
World domination? That was always the worst interview question.
Minnow smiled pleasantly. “I’m very motivated to find employment that’s both challenging and fulfilling. I would enjoy finding a position that’s long term.”
The elderly woman readjusted her navy cardigan then pushed her glasses higher on her nose. She peered at Minnow, brown eyes magnified and owlish through the substantial lenses.
“Cut the professional bullshit answers, if you please, Miss Korsgaard,” the woman said, her tone bland. Minnow managed not to laugh. “Are you planning to start a family or move out of town any time in the near future?”
The woman’s bluntness took her aback, and she caught herself before she laughed. “No. I’m unattached and have no plans to relocate.”
Ms Sutton nodded gravely. “So you’re good at establishing rapport?”
“Yes, that won’t be an issue.”
The look of abject skepticism in Ms. Sutton’s eyes was unnerving. “Mr. Leduc has a habit of doing his utmost to scare away every caregiver I hire. He’s brilliant, so naturally he’s quite impossible.”
Minnow nodded. “What physical limitations does he have at this point? What’s his diagnosis?”
“Diagnosis?” Ms. Sutton snorted. “Severin is an impossible, self-important ass who was born rich, ignored by his family, and spends most of his time alone. He doesn’t need a support worker for medical issues. It’s more that he needs a handler. He has no people skills and no desire to learn any. His patience with people is abysmal, and he comes off as brash and arrogant...because he’s brash and arrogant.”
“So my role would be?”
“You would basically be his companion – you’d encourage him to see to his grooming, and help keep him organized. Pick up after him. Make sure he eats.”
This sounded ridiculous. “So I’d be babysitting a grown man whose only issue is that he’s a jerk?” she asked sardonically.
“Oh, I like you.” Ms. Sutton’s eyes gleamed. “A difficult man. A passionate man. But yes, you’d be a glorified babysitter.”
The money was too good to pass up.
She nodded slowly. “I could do that. Are there...other expectations attached to this job?”
Ms. Sutton glanced at her sharply. “No, but smart of you to ask. Severin doesn’t seem to be interested in that sort of thing from anyone. I’ve never known him to date or even to...” She waved her hand, letting Minnow fill in the blanks. “He’s intensely focused.”
“Always best to ask up front.” The last thing Minnow wanted was to quit her coffee shop job and let go of her apartment only to find out this old man expected a ‘full service’ employee.
“There may be occasions where you’re required to go on outings with him, both to keep him organized, and to try to curb his temper. Oh – and you can’t be too overt when you direct him, or he’ll fire your ass on the spot.”
“So, like any other service industry job.”
“Yes. I’m the only other employee who lives at the house. I’ve been there for years.” She grinned, her dentures very big and white in her small, wizened face. “I’d like to say affectionate things about him, but the man is insufferable. I love him like a son, but he needs a smack in the head sometimes.”
“Got it.”
She shook her head. “I’m hiring you instead of a man, so don’t be surprised if he brings it up. He always thinks he wants a male handler, but he fires them as fast as I can hire them. Time to try something new. Female, young, pretty. He won’t know what to do.”
That didn’t bode well, but she had student loans that wouldn’t be ignored. Ms. Sutton gathered her purse and coat.
Shit. She wasn’t sure if she’d managed to charm the woman yet. She couldn’t leave.
“When will you be deciding?” she asked, walking the woman to the door in the hopes of winning her over before she made it back to her red Mustang GT. Definitely not the type of car she expected a sweet little old lady to drive, but Minnow seriously approved.
“Oh, I’ll send Churchill around for you tomorrow. Pack for a week, to start, and if you last that long we’ll send someone for the rest of your things.”
Wow. Okay.
“Is there a uniform? A dress code?”
“Just pack whatever you’re comfortable in. The house is out in the middle of nowhere, and we rarely leave.”
*
A day wasn’t enough time to organize her affairs, but luckily Leduc’s estate wasn’t far from town – only an hour by car. A lot of things would need to wait anyway, at least until it didn’t seem like he’d fire h
er. For all she knew, she’d be back at her apartment later today.
Her front door buzzer went off promptly at eight AM, and she descended the stairs with her small second-hand suitcase, trying to look organized and composed.
Churchill, or Church, the driver of the SUV, was a tall African American man, with wide shoulders, a wide smile, and an easy manner – he was hot, charming, expensively dressed, and she guessed about thirty. Unfortunately, the sneeze guard between the front and back seats kept her from making conversation. She wouldn’t have been at her best anyway, worrying about all the things she’d left undone at home.
The dishes were all clean, the garbage taken out, and she’d quit her job at the Coffee Emporium, although she still felt bad about leaving Henry, the owner, scrambling to cover her shifts. As Churchill pulled onto the highway, she realized she’d forgotten a pair of pants she’d meant to bring. And... Had she unplugged the iron?
The city became the countryside. Trees flashed past, a blur of verdant serenity after the bustle and crowding she was used to. No more coffee shop. No more aching feet. Maybe she’d have time to read more. Maybe, after a few months and after paying off some bills, she’d finally be able to afford an e-reader.
When she’d gone back to school, she’d thought personal support worker training would land her a decent job – something above minimum wage – but with the economy the way it was, no one was hiring. She’d been lucky to get the job at the coffee shop.
Minnow pulled out the paperback she’d been reading, but couldn’t concentrate long, and soon she was staring out the window again, the trees a wall between her and the hungry life she hoped to leave behind.
After what seemed like eternity, Church turned off the highway onto a private road, then onto another, stopping when they reached a walled estate with a breathtaking wrought iron gate.
The gate opened for them, and they moved up the tree-lined drive to a sprawling house. The place looked like someone had stolen a museum from Europe and dumped it in the middle of Nowheresville, New York.
It was...intimidating.
Surrounded by the type of landscaping she’d only ever seen on television, the house was massive and elegant. Yeah, the jeans she packed weren’t going to cut it, no matter what Sutton had said. This was definitely, at least, a pretty day dress sort of position.
A grand stone stairway led up to the arched set of doors, but the driveway curved around the back of the house. They didn’t have to go through the front? Excellent.
In the back, Church stopped and came around to open her door for her. As soon as she stepped out, the strange sound that had reached her in the SUV became much louder.
“What is that?” she asked, scanning the grounds. The noise must be coming from a large garage that stood, door wide, far removed from the house. The building was across the extensive lawn, past a huge pool, and a tennis court. Lights flickered in the open doorway of the garage, and smoke came from the chimney. The noise stopped.
“That?” Church blinked, then shrugged. “That’s the forge. You’ll get used to it.” He said the latter in a way that implied he didn’t even notice the banging anymore. It was hard to imagine getting used to that kind of racket.
“So the help goes in through this door?” Best to get questions like this out of the way early.
“There aren’t any fancy divisions like that here. We all use this door.” He grinned. “The whole house is at your disposal. Feel free to use the pool, library, entertainment equipment – whatever you want. There aren’t any servant stairwells or anything, and we all eat dinner together.”
“Who the fuck is this?” a gravelly voice asked, so low that Minnow was pretty sure her toes kept vibrating after the words stopped coming.
She turned and saw a man stalking toward them. Man wasn’t really the right term. He was more like a...she didn’t even know what. Dirty, sweat-slicked, shirtless, wearing old ratty jeans and a pair of steel-toed boots, the man could star in his own blue-collar calendar and be every damned month.
His shoulders and arms were almost shockingly huge, tapering to a narrow waist and hips, but even with the baggy, low-slung jeans, his legs didn’t look scrawny either. His face, when she could draw her gaze away from the rest of him, was so strong it was almost ugly. He had a prominent bottom jaw with a slight underbite that made him look mean, although maybe that impression wasn’t from the underbite at all. He was more beast than man. His long dark hair was pulled back in a braid that was coming loose, and his ice blue eyes were narrowed and appraising, with thick black lashes that almost made him look like he was wearing eyeliner. And there were tattoos. So many tattoos. All together, he was very...startling.
“Hello, I’m Minnow,” she said before Church could stop grumbling to respond.
He stopped slightly too close, staring down at her with a rude intensity. Rather than back up to a more comfortable distance, she raised her chin and smiled at him. She didn’t bother to make it a nice smile.
The man snorted and turned to Church. “Sutton inside?”
“I think so. Just got here.”
“Well, you can put that back wherever you found it.” He flicked a finger at her. “I don’t need some little cunt to babysit me.”
“Sutton said to get her, so she’s here.” Church shrugged, as though to say he wasn’t about to challenge the natural order of the household. “If Sutton ain’t happy...”
The man turned his head and spat as though that was his opinion, then strode into the house, ignoring Minnow completely.
She stared after him, stunned.
“You okay?” Church asked, patting her shoulder kindly. “Severin can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s a nice guy if he lets you get to know him.”
“That was Severin?” she stared after him, aghast. “I thought Severin was a little old man.” Although she supposed she hadn’t asked, just assumed. “I don’t usually work with people who are...” She waved a hand in lieu of finishing her statement.
“I know. The other stuff we’ve tried hasn’t worked, though.” He crouched and picked up a stray pinecone, then tossed it into the tree line. “He needs people in his life. When he’s alone too much he gets weird.”
“Weirder than this?”
“You have no idea.” Church sighed. “I love my brother, but I’m married now. I’ve got kids. I can’t stay here with him all the time. At least Sutton lives here, and she cooks and manages things. Rodrigo is around sometimes. He takes care of the finances, and is our best friend, but he doesn’t live here. There’s no one else.”
He led her into the opulent house, their steps echoing in the cavernous back foyer. In the distance she could hear Ms Sutton shouting, and Minnow looked at Church with concern.
“Don’t mind Sutton. Sometimes volume is the only thing that will make Sev hear you.”
Great. Minnow could be stern, but she wasn’t much of a yeller – not to mention the fact that yelling at a man that huge seemed like a bad idea.
“So is he developmentally delayed?”
“No. He’s just a dick.” He walked her through the main floor of the house. The main foyer was elegant, with carvings and white stone and gold detailing. It matched the outside of the house.
“The original owners were in love with Versailles, so the entire place is Rococo.”
“It’s so beautiful. It reminds me of those old movies, like Dangerous Liaisons. Hard to imagine him living here.”
Church nodded. “Hard to imagine anyone living here, really. The first time my mother brought me to the house to introduce me to Sev, I remember asking why a kid would live in a museum. After you’re here for a few weeks, though, you forget to stare at the architecture. Living here is easier if you don’t notice the cherubs staring you down with their beady little eyes.” He poked wiggling fingers out on either side of his head, and grimaced like he was used to entertaining children.
She snorted.
He grinned at her. “I’m serious. Don’t make
eye contact with them. They’re creepy.”
They moved on. “Through there is the ballroom.” He indicated a set of double doors. “It doesn’t get used for much. I think all of the furniture is covered at the moment. There’s a piano in there, though, if you play.” He pointed out the library next, then Severin’s study.
Next was the elegant dining room, the breakfast room, the kitchen – which was now empty. The kitchen was the only room with hints of modernity. The rest of the house seemed as if it had been frozen in time.
“Upstairs things are a little more updated.”
They climbed the stairs, and he showed her a screening room, with state-of-the-art equipment, and a long corridor of suites. “There are more rooms that way in the servant’s wing. Sutton’s room is down there, but she wants you in the blue room so you’re closer to Severin in case he needs you.”
She wondered what a man like that would need her for in the middle of the night, but was too chicken to ask.
He stopped and gestured her into a room. “This one is yours.”
Minnow entered the lavishly appointed room then shook her head and almost backed into Church. “I can’t stay in here.” She’d be afraid to touch anything.
“They’re all like this, even in the supposed servant’s quarters, and this is where Sutton wants you,” he replied, putting her ratty old suitcase down on the five billion thread count duvet that was folded along the foot of the king-sized, four-poster, bed. “You can unpack, relax, wander. Do whatever you want until dinner. It’s at eight sharp every night. If you want some lunch there are always several plates of ready-to-eat food in the fridge.”
“Shouldn’t I be...doing something?”
Church winced, then continued in a low voice. “For today I’d keep my head down – give him time to get used to you being in his space before you try to approach him. Think stray dog.”
“More wolf than dog, from the looks of him,” she whispered back.
He grinned. “Yeah, maybe. Might have rabies too. Maybe mange. And, by the way, his bite is worse than his bark.” With those reassuring words, he grimaced and left.
Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1) Page 1
