Ruby and the Beast: A Beauty and the Beast Novel

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Ruby and the Beast: A Beauty and the Beast Novel Page 2

by Ditter Kellen


  She shook off her thoughts, melding into the constantly moving throng of people to reach Mrs. Fleming’s porch.

  Rubbing her sweaty palms along the front of her jeans, Ruby reached up and pressed the doorbell. The door opened a moment later.

  “Ruby,” Mrs. Fleming crooned, pulling Ruby into a warm hug. “I have been so worried about you. You haven’t answered your phone.”

  Hugging the elderly woman back, Ruby kissed her weathered cheek. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fleming. I’ve had a lot going on.”

  “I know you have, dear.” Mrs. Fleming pulled back to gaze into Ruby’s eyes. “Cameron is in the TV room. He doesn’t know about your father, yet. I figured it would be better coming from you.”

  Stepping inside and closing the door behind her, Ruby squeezed the old woman’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough for always being here for us. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

  “Nonsense. Your grandmother was like a sister to me. We were neighbors for years, until she passed away. It’s been nice having you and your brother next door. Agatha would be so proud if she could see you now.”

  “Ruby!” Cameron cried, running across the room to throw his little arms around her waist. “You’re home.”

  Staring over his head into Mrs. Fleming’s eyes, Ruby held him tightly against her. “I’m so happy to see you, Cam.”

  He pulled back, a huge grin on his face. “How long do you get to stay for?”

  Ruby found it hard to speak around the lump forming in her throat. “For quite a while. Now, go get your things so we can go home.”

  Cameron ran off down the hall to gather his belongings, his little body bouncing with excitement.

  “If there is anything you need,” Mrs. Fleming murmured, touching Ruby on the arm, “don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Ruby nodded, not trusting her voice.

  The sight of Cameron rushing up the hall saved Ruby from falling into a fit of tears and throwing herself into Mrs. Fleming’s arms. “I’m ready.”

  “Remember what I said,” the elderly lady said, opening the door for the siblings. “I’m only a few feet away at all times.”

  Ruby turned to face her as Cam bounded down the steps. “Thank you again, Mrs. Fleming.”

  Quickly catching up to Cam, Ruby unlocked the door to their home and followed him inside before closing it behind her.

  “Daddy?” Cameron called, dropping his backpack on the floor near the kitchen. He turned to face Ruby. “When’s Daddy coming home? He left me at Mrs. Fleming’s all night.”

  Unable to prevent the tears that abruptly flooded her eyes, Ruby inched forward, lowering to her knees in front of him. “I have something to tell you, Cam.”

  Tilting his head to the side, Cameron’s face grew pale with anxiety. “Why are you crying?”

  Unable to think of an easy way to say what needed to be said, Ruby inhaled a shaky breath and took hold of her brother’s hands. “Daddy isn’t coming home, Cam. He’s gone to heaven to be with Grandma.”

  “He died?” Cameron whispered, his eyes growing round in disbelief.

  Ruby pulled him forward, embracing him tightly. “Yes. I’m so sorry, Cam.”

  She could feel his tears against her shoulder as they seeped through the material of her shirt, and her heart shattered all over again.

  A fierce protectiveness rose inside Ruby. No matter what happened to her from that moment on, or what sacrifices she would have to make, Cameron would want for nothing. She would take care of him until her last breath.

  “You’re not going to leave and go back to school are you, Ruby?”

  “No, love. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever again.”

  His little arms tightened around her, telling her how much her words meant to him.

  No, Ruby wouldn’t return to school. She would stay in New Orleans, take care of Cam, and find the man responsible for killing her father.

  Chapter Four

  “You wanted to see me?” The sound of Templeton’s voice was the only solace the Beast had found since learning of Charles Atwood’s death earlier that morning.

  Keeping his hood in place, Lincoln turned to face his attorney and most trusted advisor. “I want you to find out who killed Atwood, and bring him to me.”

  “Dead or alive?” Templeton murmured without missing a beat.

  “It matters not.”

  Templeton stared at him for long moments. “I can almost guarantee that none of ours were responsible. There would have been no need to kill him. Atwood had already lost everything over the past several months in previous card games. And now we have his home.”

  Lincoln’s eyes narrowed beneath his hood. “His home?”

  Reaching inside his coat pocket, Templeton pulled an envelope free. “I have the signed deed right here.”

  Striding forward, Lincoln plucked the deed from Templeton’s grasp, his heart pounding with a modicum of satisfaction. “How did you manage this?”

  “It was really quite easy, once he had no money left to bet with. It was his last shot to make it back.” Templeton paused. “But of course, he never stood a chance. The game had been rigged just as you specified.”

  Lincoln stared down at the envelope he held, a calmness seeping into his veins. “I want this filed with the courts as soon as possible.”

  “Already done,” Templeton confessed without blinking. “I took care of it first thing this morning. The house on Royal Street now belongs to you. And it’s worth a pretty penny.”

  “I don’t care about the money,” the Beast growled, tossing the envelope onto the side table next to the glass-covered rose. “I never have.”

  Templeton shrugged a bony shoulder. “Be that as it may, Ruby Atwood will have thirty days to pay off the monies owed, since the house has been left to her in Charles’s will. Along with sole custody of her younger brother, Cameron.”

  “Pay off?” Lincoln softly bit out. “Explain.”

  Clearing his throat, Templeton shifted his weight. “That was the stipulation Charles demanded before signing the documents. If he lost the game, he would have thirty days to buy back the deed to his home.”

  “What?” Lincoln snarled, taking a threatening step forward. “How could you allow him to make stipulations?”

  Templeton didn’t flinch, just continued to stand there, unmoving. “It was the only way he would sign the document, sir. Besides, Ruby Atwood doesn’t have the means to come up with six-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars in the next thirty days. She’s a college student, and no more than twenty-years old.”

  Lincoln’s eyes became hooded. “Did you kill Charles Atwood?”

  That got a rise out of the otherwise calm attorney. “Of course, not. I’m an attorney, Lincoln, not the Hillside Strangler.”

  Taking another step forward, Lincoln grasped the edges of his hood and slowly pushed it back away from his beastly face. A flicker of fear entered Templeton’s eyes, but it left so fast, Lincoln wondered if he’d imagined it. “The chances of me being anything other than what I am now died with Charles Atwood.”

  Templeton studied Lincoln’s face. “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “My father told me of the curse years ago, Templeton. The only person that had the ability to reverse it was Charles Atwood.”

  “That can’t be true,” Templeton stressed, his hands going to his hips. “Charles may have been the only one who could reverse the spell, but he couldn’t possibly be the only one who could break it. There has to be another way.”

  Rage boiled the Beast’s blood. He peeled his lips away from his sharp teeth and leaned down close to Templeton’s now pale face. “I may as well be asked to raise the dead, you fool! I am to be cursed for the rest of my life.”

  Templeton backed up a step. “We will figure something out. I—”

  “You’ll what?” the Beast sneered, turning away and snatching open a drawer to the bedside table. He yanked out a folded scrap of paper that had seen better days and handed i
t to the now frightened attorney. It had come with the rose beneath that glass. “Read it.”

  Taking an unsteady breath, Templeton pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket, slipped them onto his hawk-like nose, and unfolded the paper. “It’s addressed to the child of Stanford Barone.”

  The Beast nodded toward the paper. “Go on. Read it.”

  Templeton ran a hand through his thinning hair and turned the paper toward the light. “Only true love will set you free, from an innocent it must be. You must learn to love that which you hate, or your thirtieth birthday will seal your fate. When the last petal falls it will be too late.”

  “So, you see,” the Beast rumbled, barely able to speak the words, “I am to be this for the remainder of my days.”

  Templeton appeared uncomfortable. He glanced at the glass housing the nearly bare rose. “Your thirtieth birthday is less than a month away. You are expected to love someone you hate and have that love returned by an innocent in the next twenty-nine days?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How come your father never told me about the riddle?”

  Lincoln shrugged a giant shoulder. “Maybe he knew it would do no good.”

  “Where the hell are you expected to find a virgin in the twenty-first century?” Templeton asked, apparently still in shock.

  The Beast returned his hood to his head. “You’re missing the point. Virgin or not, no one could ever love a beast, any more than I could love someone I hate. Finding a grain of salt amidst the sands of the beach would be an easier feat.”

  “I am sorry, Lincoln.”

  “I don’t want your pity,” the Beast snarled, spinning around and stalking back to the window. “I want revenge.”

  The sound of Templeton’s shoes clicking on the floor told Lincoln he’d moved to the side table by the bed. He slid the drawer open, obviously returning the paper to its proper place. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “For starters, I want to own Ruby Atwood.”

  Templeton remained silent for a moment. “And the boy?”

  Lincoln thought about Charles Atwood’s son. Though the beast inside him demanded revenge, he knew he’d get no satisfaction from harming a child. He must have some humanity in him after all, he decided. Small as it was. “Leave him be. I may revisit him at a later time. I derive no pleasure from hurting children.”

  “I’ll get right on this.” Templeton strode toward the door.

  “Templeton?”

  “Yes?” the attorney quietly answered.

  “See that Ruby doesn’t find a way to retain that house. I want to own everything she’s ever cared about, right down to her favorite pair of shoes. Do you understand? No matter how small or insignificant you think it is.”

  “I understand.” Templeton opened the door, closing it softly behind him.

  Chapter Five

  Ruby woke before daylight, her arm half asleep and a dull ache throbbing in her shoulder.

  She blinked to clear her vision, slipping her arm free of Cameron’s head.

  He rolled to his side, murmuring something in his sleep that Ruby couldn’t make out.

  She kissed his sweet, young face and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

  Reality, bitch that she was, slapped Ruby in the face with both hands. Her daddy was dead…

  Stumbling across the room, she carefully opened the door and stepped into the hall. Her father’s bedroom loomed ahead, silently beckoning her forward.

  She took a shaky breath and moved on legs suddenly gone weak.

  The smell of his cologne hit her square in the face as she pushed the door open and breached the threshold of her father’s most private space.

  “Oh, Daddy,” she whispered around the lump in her throat, “why?”

  Ruby stood still for several heartbeats, allowing his scent to seep into her very soul.

  An overwhelming feeling of loneliness overcame her, seeping into her bones like a cancer. It wrapped around her heart, wrenching a soft cry from her.

  Ruby quickly covered her mouth, afraid she would scream and never stop.

  Hot, salty tears rolled down her cheeks to drip off her chin. But she didn’t care. Her father was gone and never coming back.

  She laid her hand on the top of his dresser and dragged her fingertips along its surface. He’d had that dresser for as long as she could remember.

  Turning away, her gaze landed on the unmade king-size bed in the center of the room.

  Shoes, a random black sock, and a couple of newspapers were strewn along the floor near the side of the bed.

  Ruby trailed over to tidy up the small mess when she noticed a box lodged beneath the bed. She lowered to her knees and tugged it free.

  Wiping at the tears with the back of her hand, she carefully removed the lid, and her breath caught. Inside were dozens of photos haphazardly stacked together. And on the top lay a picture of her father standing next to a female version of him.

  Ruby blinked to clear her tear-blurred vision and turned the photo over. On the back, in faded blue ink, read; Charles and Charlotte, ready for senior prom.

  Who was Charlotte? Ruby wondered, laying the picture aside to sift through the box. And why had her father never mentioned her before?

  She lifted another photo, this one of her grandmother. Ruby ran her thumb gently over her grandmother’s face, feeling the loss of her all over again.

  “Ruby?” Cameron whimpered from the doorway. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

  He hesitantly stepped into the room. “I thought you’d left me.”

  “Oh, Cam, I would never leave you, sweetie. Come here.” She set aside the picture she held and opened her arms.

  Cameron padded across the carpet and lowered his small body onto her lap. “What are you doing in Daddy’s room?”

  Ruby kissed the top of his head. “Just looking through some old photos. Are you hungry?”

  He nodded against her chest. “Can we make pancakes?”

  “We sure can. Go brush your teeth and get dressed. I’ll go see what we have in the kitchen.”

  Watching him go, Ruby felt her heart constrict. It killed her inside to see him hurting, to hear the insecurity in his voice.

  She took a fortifying breath, pushing her own emotions aside. Cameron needed her strength, the stability only she could provide.

  Ruby returned the photo to the box, replaced the lid. and pushed it back underneath her father’s bed.

  She jumped to her feet and headed toward the kitchen with determined steps. There were many things to be done, and sitting around feeling sorry for herself wasn’t one of them.

  The doorbell rang just as she passed the foyer.

  Ruby glanced at her watch before moving to look through the peephole. Who could possibly be visiting before eight o’clock in the morning?

  “May I help you?” Ruby inquired after unlocking the door and pulling it open.

  A tall, thin man that looked to be in his early sixties stood on the porch, wearing a black suit and holding a briefcase.

  His piercing black eyes quickly assessed her from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “Are you Ruby Atwood?”

  “I am.”

  “I am sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”

  “Thank you,” Ruby murmured. “And you are?”

  “My name is Saul Templeton. I represent Mr. Lincoln Barone. May I have a moment of your time?”

  The name Barone sounded familiar to Ruby, though she couldn’t place where she knew it from. “You’re a lawyer?”

  “I am Mr. Barone’s attorney, yes.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “If you would be so kind as to allow me inside, I will show you.”

  Backing up a step, Ruby pulled the door wider. “Please, come in.”

  With a brief nod of thanks, the attorney strode past her and marched straight to the kitchen as if he’d been here a hundred times before.

  Ruby shut the door and followed suit, surpr
ised to find him already sitting at the bar, opening his briefcase.

  He laid some papers out before him.

  “Would you mind telling me what this is about?” Ruby questioned again, taking a seat across the bar from him.

  Templeton peered at her over the top of his glasses. “I regret to inform you that your father signed over the deed to this house before he died.”

  Ruby sucked in an astounded breath. “What? He— Why— That’s impossible. Daddy would never do something like that.”

  Sliding a stack of papers across the bar, the attorney pinned her with a hawkish look. “Unfortunately, that is exactly what he did.”

  “There has to be some kind of mistake.”

  Templeton abruptly stood. “I’m sorry, Miss Atwood. I assure you there has been no mistake. The terms are very clear. If your father’s debt is not paid in full within the next twenty-nine days, the house belongs to Mr. Barone.”

  Ruby could barely form words, her mind scrambling to absorb the blow she’d just been dealt. “My father’s debt? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “His gambling debt, Miss Atwood. I’ll leave you that copy for you to read over at your convenience, as I understand you have funeral arrangements to make. But don’t take too long.” With that, he snatched up his briefcase and left the kitchen.

  Ruby sat frozen on her stool, staring straight ahead as the sound of his footsteps faded and the front door closed behind him.

  She lowered her gaze to the papers the attorney had left on the bar, and her stomach tightened in disbelief. Her father had signed away the house, the only home Ruby had ever known. The home that her grandmother had been born in.

  Oh God, Daddy. What have you done?

  Chapter Six

  The Beast lifted the hood of his cloak over his head and made his way down the stairs. “Stiles? Ready the boat. I’ll be leaving in five minutes.”

  Stiles lowered his gaze as he always did in the Beast’s presence. “Do you know how long you will be gone?”

  Taking an impatient breath, Lincoln strode toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder as he went. “For as long as it takes.”

 

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