Beast Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy

Home > Other > Beast Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy > Page 5
Beast Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy Page 5

by Callahan, Kelli


  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “We were told to deliver the car to this address and ask for Anabelle—I just need your signature. The car is paid for, but there is quite a bit of paperwork—we’ll send it your way. You might want to get insurance too, but that’s not our problem since nobody took out a loan.”

  “I…” My eyes drifted to the paperwork, and I was totally speechless.

  The delivery guy kept talking—I kept staring. Eventually, I managed to get my composure, sign the paperwork, and the keys were placed in my hand. I didn’t even really have a chance to grab them—he just hung the keyring on my index finger and walked away. I wondered how a beast who preferred isolation and didn’t want visitors was going to arrange for a car—but I wasn’t expecting him to just have one delivered to my house.

  “Anabelle?” My foster father opened the door behind me. “What was that about? Why is there a BMW M6 in our driveway?”

  “I—I think it’s my car.” I clutched the keys in my hand and started walking towards it.

  “Say what now?” He sounded as confused as me—well, maybe a little more than me.

  I didn’t answer. I walked to the car and sat down behind the steering wheel—it was the first time I had ever been inside of one that was brand new, much less in the driver’s seat. The smell was amazing. I looked at the keys and realized that they didn’t go in the ignition. I just had to press a button to start the car. I put it in reverse and waved to my foster father as I pulled out of the driveway. I was still processing what happened. Adam didn’t arrange for a car to pick me up—he bought me one. What kind of man would do something like that for a stranger—especially a stranger that stole from him? I hit the accelerator once I hit the main road, and the car picked up speed so much faster than my foster mother’s Honda Accord.

  This is amazing…

  I turned down the road that led to Adam’s mansion and couldn’t resist the urge to test the horsepower a little bit on that abandoned stretch of pavement. It was a powerful machine—that was for damn sure. I drove through the rusted iron gate and stopped in front of the fountain. The door to the house opened, and Adam’s large frame filled the doorway. He looked intimidating and grotesque, but underneath the beastly exterior was a heart of gold that beat with generosity I didn’t deserve. I was a foster kid that turned to crime in order to try and escape the system I was thrown into when my parents died. Maybe I was the one who was grotesque. I certainly didn’t have a heart of gold.

  “Is the car acceptable?” Adam stepped back from the door as I approached.

  “Acceptable?” I blinked a couple of times in surprise. “It’s freaking amazing!”

  “Good.” He pushed the door closed once I was inside the house. “You’re just in time for tea.”

  “Why did you get it for me? I thought you were just going to send a taxi or an Uber…” I followed him into the living room.

  “You said you didn’t have a car. Now you have one.” He sat down in his chair, and I sat on the couch across from him. “If you find a job, you’ll have transportation.”

  “Thank you—but this isn’t normal. People don’t just go around buying luxury cars for strangers!” I shook my head back and forth. “I broke into your house—I stole from you.”

  “You brought it back.” He shrugged and started pouring tea. “I figured that kind of goodwill deserved a reward.”

  “I don’t feel like I deserve it.” I sighed and reached for my tea. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “You can repay me with conversation.” The edge of his lips twisted into a smile—but it looked very unnatural. “What are you going to do with the freedom that the car provides? Get a job—or you mentioned school?”

  “I just graduated from high school.” I nodded. “Most people are starting college now, but I wasn’t a very good student. I had a horrible GPA, and I didn’t do very well on the SAT—maybe it would be better for me to just look for a job.”

  “Do you want a job?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t think anyone really wants a job,” I chuckled under my breath. “A job would keep me in the foster system for three more years—and a roof over my head would be nice.”

  “Then it’s settled.” He nodded. “You’ll work for me.”

  “I’m sorry—what?” I had to clutch the teacup to keep from dropping it.

  “I could use someone to help clean the place up a little bit—take care of things that I’ve neglected.” He nodded again. “I’ve avoided hiring anyone because it’s best if very few people know I live here—but you already know my secret, so that isn’t a problem.”

  “It would just be cleaning? Like a maid?” I tilted my head slightly.

  “Cleaning—maybe a little conversation from time-to-time.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Are you going to tell me why you live by yourself like this?” I sipped my tea. “I believe you promised…”

  “I said perhaps.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like people.”

  “Yet you asked me to come back—and now you’re asking me to work for you.” I lowered my teacup.

  “Like I said yesterday, you intrigue me.” He sipped his tea.

  I think you’re beginning to intrigue me too…

  “Then give me something. How do I know you’re not some criminal on the run?” I put my teacup down and leaned back against the couch.

  “You don’t, but if I am—then does that make us much different?” He raised a furrowed brow. “You’re a criminal.”

  “Okay, then let me clarify. I mean—something serious,” I exhaled sharply.

  “Stealing thousands of dollars in family heirlooms isn’t serious?” He tilted his head. “You cracked one of my great-grandmother’s figurines.”

  “You know what I mean…” I looked down at my tea.

  “I’m here by choice. Nothing I’ve ever done would put me in handcuffs.” He tilted his head in the opposite direction. “Is that a satisfactory answer?”

  It sounds like the only one I’m going to get…

  “Yeah, I think that will do.” I nodded.

  I spent several hours talking with Adam. It was good conversation, even if he avoided most of the questions I asked. I felt like he was being honest with me, even if he was rather evasive. Whatever made him retreat from the world and hide in his mansion was deeply rooted within him—it was a personal choice that seemed to have some sort of tragedy attached to it. I saw pain in his normally piercing eyes when I tried to work my way back to the subject, so I decided to stop pressing. He was extremely generous—he gave me a car and offered me a job. It was hard to turn down the latter after the former. A job would keep me in foster care for three more years, and if I lived in Los Angeles, then I would be able to drive to his house every day. The house could definitely use a good dusting, especially upstairs which looked mostly untouched except for one of the rooms—I assumed that was where he slept.

  “Would you like a tour of your new workplace?” He leaned forward and started to stand. “I know you got to look around a little bit when you were trying to pillage the place, but there’s plenty you didn’t see.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and stood up from the couch. “That would be great.”

  “Well…” He made a wide motion with his hands. “This is the living room.”

  “I gathered that much,” I chuckled under my breath.

  “The kitchen is in here.” He walked towards the door, and I followed.

  “So—how do you get groceries if you don’t leave the house?” I looked at a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on the counter.

  “They’re delivered.” He nodded.

  “Then someone else does know you live here?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

  “There is one person I trust. He handles my affairs—he was the one who bought the car and arranged for the delivery.” He motioned for me to follow him into the hallway.

  “Is this your family?” I looked at one of t
he photographs on the wall as we walked past it.

  “My mother’s family.” He stopped and turned towards the photograph.

  “Is she still alive?” I leaned forward to look at the photograph—I assumed she wasn’t in it, since it appeared to be very old.

  “She is.” He nodded. “As is my father—but they don’t live around here.”

  “You don’t see them?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s complicated…” He exhaled sharply and started walking down the hallway. “In here is the library.”

  “I saw…” I followed him into the room. “It’s—unbelievable.”

  “Feel free to borrow any book that catches your eye.” He walked over and pulled one from the shelf. “I believe you were looking at this one the last time you were here…”

  Apparently, he was watching me the whole time I was pillaging his house…

  “The Time Machine.” I smiled. “I had to read it for a class assignment once, and I really liked it—I’ve even watched all of the movies.”

  “Maybe we could watch one sometime…” He put the book back and walked towards the door.

  He doesn’t really seem like the movie type…

  Adam gave me the grand tour, and I was amazed by everything in the house. The parts that hadn’t been modernized were like a time capsule. He great-grandparents collected a lot of really cool stuff—some of it was valuable, and some of it was just interesting. Based on what I could gather from the tidbits of information he shared, it seemed that his great-grandparents were the last two people to live in the mansion before he moved in. His mother’s parents lived in New York, and I assumed that was where his parents were as well, but he never gave me a direct answer about them. The family was definitely wealthy if they just left a mansion filled with valuables untouched for two generations. That would explain how he was able to disappear without needing to work or worry about money—and how he could just buy an expensive luxury car for a complete stranger.

  I guess the stuff I stole really didn’t mean that much to him—except for the pocket watch. There has to be a story there. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to ask…

  “When would you like for me to start?” I followed Adam back into the living room once the tour was over.

  “I assume you’ll need proof that you’ve found gainful employment to remain in the foster system?” He turned towards me.

  “Yeah, they’re not going to take my word for it.” I nodded.

  “I’ll get that taken care of, and if you’re able to sign the paperwork tomorrow, you can start the day after.” He sat down in his chair.

  “That sounds great.” I smiled. “I really don’t even know how to thank you for all of this—your generosity is just—so incredible. It’s way more than I deserve…”

  “I think you deserve a chance. Everybody does…” He looked up at me and shrugged. “Maybe you’ll make the best of this one.”

  “I will.” I nodded quickly.

  I talked with Adam for a few more minutes, mainly reiterating my gratitude, and then I headed back home. My foster parents met me at the door with a million questions about my new car and how I got it. I told them that it was a gift from my new employer, but I don’t think that eased their suspicion. The next day, a lawyer named Jon Evans arrived at my foster home—I assumed he was the man Adam trusted with his secret. Officially, I was an employee of his law firm, and I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement which forbade me from discussing any details of my employer or my job with anyone.

  I received my first check in advance—and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I realized that Adam was paying me two-thousand dollars a week to work for him. That was after taxes. The lawyer said that the employment contract came with additional benefits too, like health, dental, and vision insurance. I had a job. It was official, and the salary was beyond generous—even if I had to work twenty-four hours a day.

  “Anabelle?” My foster mother tapped on my door and walked into my room while I was still staring at my first paycheck in shock.

  “Yes?” I sat up in bed and looked over at her.

  “Ms. Betty will be stopping by in a few minutes. She has something to discuss with you.” Mrs. Smith walked away as soon as her message was delivered—and there was no emotion in her voice.

  Ms. Betty asked the same questions I got from my foster parents, but once she looked over the employment contract, she agreed that it met the requirement for me to remain in foster care until I was twenty-one. I didn’t think I would actually have to stay in foster care that long—not if I was making two-thousand dollars a week. I could save up and get my own place within a couple of months. Ms. Betty said she would look for another family to place me with, since the Smiths didn’t want to foster me anymore. They probably should have just let me stay—it wasn’t like I was going to be there much once I started working for Adam—and my new job would allow me to take care of my own expenses.

  Adam is no beast. He’s the most generous person I’ve ever met—and I want to know more about the man he was before he turned his back on the world. I feel a connection to him, but I don’t know why—it’s more than just his generosity…

  Eight

  Adam

  I sat alone in my house and stared at the inscription on the pocket watch while I waited for Anabelle to arrive. I had a different feeling inside me, a stark contrast to the darkness that had lingered there for ten years—I felt a hint of excitement over the fact that I wasn’t going to spend the day alone. It didn’t feel like a betrayal of the vows I made—it felt like the wounds on my heart were trying to heal. I never thought that would be possible. I thought they would be there forever—I wanted them to be there forever. The pain connected me to the memories, and as long as I suffered, the love I shared with my wife would never truly die, even if she was gone. I could feel the pull of the cursed darkness dwindling—the man I used to be had finally been allowed to breathe—and he was willing to fight for what was left of my soul.

  I just don’t know if the beast is ready to let go.

  “Good morning.” I opened the door as soon as Anabelle walked up the steps. “Ready to get started?”

  “I am.” She looked up at me and smiled. “Especially for what you’re paying me…”

  “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get a better offer.” I stepped away from the door and let her enter. “Don’t worry; there’s plenty of work to do.”

  I let Anabelle get started in the kitchen, and I listened to her work from the living room. Hearing something besides silence, and the sounds that the old house made was kind of nice. I knew that I was paying her a lot more than a maid would have earned, but I didn’t care—money meant very little to me, but I already knew how important it was to her. I was buying her companionship, even if all we shared was conversation and tea. She made my heart start beating again, and I needed to know why. It was more complicated than the desires of the man I used to be. Her smile was intoxicating. Her laughter was addictive. The beautiful girl with honey-colored curls and amber eyes had done something that ten years of isolation never accomplished—she made me want to live again.

  * * *

  Two weeks later

  “Are you okay?” I stared at Amber as she walked through the front door and noticed that her eyes were rimmed with redness, like she had been crying.

  “I’ll be fine.” She shook her head back and forth. “Where do you want me to work today?”

  “Why don’t you get started in the library?” I motioned to the hallway. “The books need to be dusted, organized, and possibly cataloged…”

  “Okay.” She nodded and immediately walked down the hall.

  It had been two weeks since Anabelle started working for me, and she was always happy when she arrived—something was definitely wrong. Seeing that sadness on her face filled me with anger and made my blood boil. The connection we had seemed to get stronger each day. I wasn’t sure if she felt it like I did, but there was no way for me to
deny it. My desires were growing—to the point that it was hard for me to focus on anything else when she was around. A part of me still tried to hold onto the past—the vows I swore I would never betray—even when it no longer felt like moving on was impossible. My heart was beginning to burn for Anabelle, and that fire wanted to consume whatever it was that brought tears to her eyes.

  “You can talk to me.” I walked into the library and watched as she pulled a book from the shelf.

  “You’re paying me to work.” She rubbed a finger underneath her left eye. “I’m sure my problems are nothing compared to what you’ve been through—whatever it is that made you retreat from the rest of the world.”

  I’m still not ready to talk about that—but she may get to hear the truth one day…

  “The size of the problem isn’t important.” I walked over and took the book from her hand. “Let’s go sit in the living room. I’ll make some tea.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, and I saw her blink away a tear before she left the library.

  Anabelle was so precious—and I had a need to protect her. I didn’t care if her problem was simple or complex. I had to know what made her cry, and if someone hurt her—the beast was a merciless monster that would feast on their bones. I wasn’t strong enough to protect the woman I married from the Grim Reaper’s scythe—but I would have fought the Angel of Death with my bare hands if I could have. That loss was a part of me—it turned a man into a beast—and it made Anabelle’s tears shoot rage through my veins.

  “Here you go.” I controlled my anger and gently placed the tray between us. “What happened?”

  “It’s stupid, I promise.” She reached for her tea.

  “Then tell me.” I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes.

  “This new foster family I’ve been placed with…” She exhaled sharply. “I’ve got two stepsisters now—they’re barely teenagers, but they are just evil.”

 

‹ Prev