Tame the Beast (Ever After #1)

by Allison Smith

  She ignored his question. Instead, her motherly voice said, “She’s very pretty.”

  “What the hell do her looks have to do with anything?” Adam looked at mother, dumbfounded. “Sorry, all the trolls were too busy to help me.”

  Angela slowly rose from her chair and walked toward her son. “Don’t sass me, Adam. In the past, when you would act out, your father would say you were just being a boy. You needed to blow off some steam—”

  “Don’t blame this on my father.”

  His mother held up her hand in protest. “I wasn’t. I was simply stating a fact. We spoiled you. I know that. But who you are and how you act today? That’s your choice. You’re not a child anymore.”

  “Thanks for noticing,” came his snide remark.

  His mother sent him a warning glare. “Now, Clara is a bright girl with an even brighter future ahead of her. It’s why I chose her for the scholarship. Her essay portion of the application was beautifully written.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Adam smiled at his mother’s disclosure. It was clear Clara had a way with words, even if those last words cut him down to half the size of a pea.

  “I may be your mother, and I know you think my judgment is unfair, but you must remember I’m also Dean of this school. It is my duty to ensure the welfare of the students and the university’s name. This family’s name.”

  “And accusing Clara of sleeping with me was your way of doing your due diligence?” His face grew warm as the familiar feeling of irritation returned.

  “We both know that’s not the case,” she replied. “I don’t think a girl as smart and respectable as Clara would do something that would jeopardize her scholarship.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Adam openly gawked at the woman before him. This couldn’t be the mother he remembered. She wouldn’t take away someone’s scholarship because of her association with him.

  “Perhaps not. But I also believed your father and I raised a respectable young man.”

  Adam couldn’t take anymore. He stormed out despite his mother’s protest. She could be as angry or disappointed as she wanted. I won’t let her take it out on Clara, he thought as he slammed his bedroom door behind him.

  The irony of his thoughts echoed through the empty room. He did the same thing to Clara. He took his anger towards his mother out on her, and now Clara hated him because of it. She had every right to. Could he ever make it up to her?

  Without further thought, Adam locked his door and blasted the stereo. His mother wouldn’t be surprised. It was the typical way he dealt with his anger. With her bedroom on the other end of the massive house, she wouldn’t even be bothered by the noise.

  He didn’t waste a second as he opened his window, welcoming the fall breeze. Carefully planting his feet, he scaled the stone wall before jumping off the thin ledge above the first floor. His smooth landing was a testament to the skills he’d perfected as a teenaged rebel.

  He didn’t care if he was sneaking out like a child. If his mother was going to treat him like one, then it only seemed fitting. At the moment, one thing mattered. Finding Luke and Deacon. They would know how to help him sort this whole mess out. They always did.

  Chapter Ten

  Three weeks passed since Clara told Adam off in front of his stunning estate, and she did not regret it. She hummed and danced up and down the aisles of the University library. She found her new job as a student librarian to be much more peaceful than dealing with the deceitful Adam Beaumont.

  Clara praised her wise decision as she adjusted the footstool to reach the top shelf in the fiction section. If only she were a couple of inches taller. Standing on her toes, she carefully placed a novel in its rightful spot.

  Quiet giggles broke her concentration just as her fingers pushed the book's leather spine. Her body grew rigid and her footing staggered as the flirtatious laughter became louder.

  It couldn't be.

  There was no way the muffled, husky laugh belonged to Adam. He wouldn't have replaced her so soon. Would he? In his defense, Clara did tell him to find someone new. Could she hate him for doing so?

  Clara tiptoed toward the secluded corner of the library. She could feel her heart rate rising as she peaked between the many novels that thrived off jealous women and mismatched lovers. The irony was not lost on her. Her heart pounded in her ears. She told herself she was just afraid of being caught snooping, but jealousy disagreed.

  Cautiously, Clara spied on the annoying couple who were far too giggly for a study session. She didn't know what was worse, realizing that she expected to catch Adam with her new replacement or seeing that the guy making out with his overexcited date was blond and not the brown haired man she was quickly falling for.

  Get it together, Clara.

  Her hands shook as she grabbed the cart of books and darted towards the far rows before anyone could see her shame. It wasn't fair the way Adam had wormed his way into her mind in just over two short months. He didn't belong there. Not after the way he’d lied to her.

  Of course, you would have never agreed to tutor him if you knew the full truth, her reasonable side argued. She sent it an inward glare. Fighting with her conscience would make matters worse. It could even lead her to forgive Adam, and that was something she was not willing to do. It was for her own good.

  She was deep in the historical section when she heard his soothing voice behind her. "I heard you got a job here."

  Clara spun, facing the man who haunted her subconscious. Clenching the thick biography in her hands, she asked, "Why are you here, Adam?"

  Adam shrugged his broad shoulders. "I have a history report, and I was wondering if you knew the best resources I should use."

  "Liar.”

  A soft smile crossed his lips, causing her traitorous heart to leap. She hated the effect he seemed to have on her. It was annoying.

  "You're right," he said as he slowly enclosed the distance between them. "I lied. I came here with the crazy idea I might get a chance to apologize for the situation I put you in." When Clara didn't reply, Adam took another step closer. "I should’ve told you the truth to begin with, but can you blame me for not wanting to broadcast my past mistakes?"

  Clara glanced at their surroundings. Nothing but old stories would hear Adam's confession. "I can't just pretend like it didn't happen.”

  "Why not?"

  "Because this isn't some fairytale. One apology doesn't make up for a mountain of lies."

  "It wasn't that many.”

  "Close enough." Clara didn't want to talk herself out of being angry with him. She couldn’t.

  "Let me help you," Adam said as reached for the books in her hand. "How do you even file these?"

  Clara's gaze rose towards the tall ceiling before she took the book from Adam's hands. His brief touch sent soft tremors up her arm and down her back.

  "Here," she said as she pointed to the spine. "First by letters, then by numbers."

  A crooked smile crossed his lips before he put himself to work. Clara didn't want to admit it, but after three weeks of absenting herself from the group, she realized how much she missed their presence. She didn't think it was possible to feel so close to a group of guys after a few months of friendship, but she did. Despite Rose's pleas for Clara to join her every Friday night, Clara was determined to stay strong. But as Adam helped her sort through the mound of books she needed to restock, she felt a familiar heat rise in her cheeks.

  Damn him.

  Trying to break the quiet tension, she said, "I heard the guys have been teasing you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Adam pushed another volume back in its place. "And what have you heard?"

  The teasing tone in his voice was building up Clara's confidence. "Oh, I don't know … something about you sneaking out after dark. How old are you again? I didn’t know I was a cradle robber.”

  "Ha. Ha," he replied with as much sarcasm as he could gather. "Well, instead of believing what you hear
, why don't you come out Friday night? I know Rose has been bitchin' every time she shows up alone."

  Clara groaned. She was tired of hearing Rose gripe about it as well. "I’ll think about it, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tutor you again. I’m sure you already found a replacement anyways."

  "It's not that easy." The stormy look in his eyes set Clara off balance. "Actually, I still have three checks to give you for the last few weeks."

  Confused, she said, "But I quit."

  "Yes, but I never told my mother that. In fact, she believes we still meet on Friday nights."

  "Stop lying to your mother, Adam."

  "You don't have to help me if you don't want to," he replied. "But the checks are still yours if you want them. We made a deal, and I plan on following through even if you don't."

  "I don’t want your money," she snidely remarked before scurrying towards a new section, leaving him behind with a handful of history books. There was no way he was going to buy his way into her good favor.

  * * *

  "Please come out with me tonight?" Rose asked for the umpteenth time. Her whine stretched the words into a thin, desperate plea and tugged on Clara’s last ounce of willpower.

  Combined with the phone call from her father urging her to get out and enjoy her weekend and Clara was doomed. Groaning loudly, she asked, "You swear we're not going over to Corin's?"

  "No. Luke said we would hitting up a frat party."

  "Oh joy," came her snarky reply. "How about a movie night?"

  "Come on. You refuse to go over to Corin's or to do anything that might involve Adam. The least you can do is come with me and Luke to another party." Her cry turned into lyrical excitement as she sang, “It will be fun.”

  With another exaggerated groan, Clara relented. "Fine."

  Rose wasted no time in stripping Clara of her everyday attire, replacing her sweatpants with a short jean skirt and low cut, white blouse.

  The warm night air that brushed against Clara’s bare legs almost made her forget that they were on the brink of winter. For now, she would relish Mother Nature's generous gift as she walked with Luke and Rose towards Greek Row.

  Clara welcomed the pulse of the stereo that raged through the fraternity. Over the past few weeks, she had isolated herself from anything that would remind her of Adam, or worse, Corin. She didn't want Corin to think he had any chance in hell with her, regardless of what she’d led Adam to believe. It served Adam right after the way he’d lied to her.

  Clara was thankful when Rose handed her a full drink and pulled her to the dance floor. She didn't want to think anymore. As much as she denied it, Clara missed their nights out. It was the one time out of the week where she didn't feel pressured by grades or expectations. The only other time she felt so free was in the presence of a man she desperately wanted to escape.

  Ready to forget her troubles in another drink, Clara danced toward the keg, but a small group of guys blocked her path. The way they swayed around was dizzying.

  "Whoo there, gorgeous," one man said as he steadied Clara's balance. Confidence seared through his green eyes.

  "Need a refill?" another asked, reaching for her empty cup.

  "Um, yes," she replied. “Thank you.”

  Clara bounced on the tip of her toes and looked everywhere but the intense green stare of the man at her side. She liked his attention even less than she liked Corin’s.

  To her left, his friend settled against the back of a sofa and raked his own dark eyes over her as he asked, “You got a boyfriend, beautiful?”

  “Don’t want one.” Clara narrowed her focus as she reached for her full cup and thanked the guy who filled it. She didn’t want their attention. She wanted to hurry back to Luke and Rose.

  Less than a step away, she felt a hand wrap around her arm. “Hey, not so fast. How about a dance?”

  Clara twirled around to face his piercing green stare. His eyelids dropped as a cocky smile pulled at his lips. Clara shuddered at the thought of what was going on in his drunken mind. “No … no, thank you.”

  One laughed and took a step closer. “Ah, come on, baby. Lighten up.”

  Clara froze as his hand slithered beneath the hem of her white shirt and the tips of his fingers danced across the heat of her back. A wave of disgust ripped through her.

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “I hear ya give tutorin’ lessons?”

  “No,” she said as another shiver crept up her spine. She was sure he wasn’t interested in anything to do with academics. “I don’t.”

  “You sure?” green eyes asked. His unwanted gaze slipped down her bare thighs and up to the last button of her blouse. “Could’ve sworn you were the one tutoring Adam Beaumont. Or do you two have a some kind of deal that only he can use ya?”

  The way the word ‘tutoring’ rolled off his tongue made Clara feel dirty. Did everyone on campus think she was sleeping with Adam? Color drained from her face as she realized the guy in front of her was hoping for the same deal he thought Adam made. Clara resisted the urge to slap the drunk right out of him, but the sudden touch of his friend pressing against her backside turned her to stone.

  “Nothing but a tease," she heard him whisper in her ear.

  Clara’s head whipped around the party, but no one glanced her way. They were all too wrapped up in their own worlds. Her throat tightened as she tried to push her way out of their confined circle.

  “Oh come on, baby,” green eyes slurred. “Guarantee I’ll show you a better time than any Beaumont.”

  Again, his hand slid around her hip. Clara thoughts protested as he stepped closer. Sirens blared through her mind. What would it take for them to take the hint that she wasn’t interested? Never would be. They were either too drunk to decrypt the word no or they never had the skills to begin with.

  Clenching her drink in her right hand, Clara threw her left elbow into his side. Pain greeted her poor bone as it crashed into the brick wall he called a chest.

  The curse that threatened to slip past Clara’s lips was caught between her teeth as she watched her harasser being ripped away. Her mind slowed, trying to process the sudden distance. There was no way it was from her doing.

  In a blur of commotion, Clara’s attention snapped to her rescuer. She could almost see the hate that surged through his veins. Curses roared through the room as the three jerks held their ground against him, but it was a feeble attempt. There was too much alcohol in their systems. And he was red-hot, boiling fury.

  Clara cringed as the sound of knuckles hitting skin rang through her ears and right down her spine. Her heart pounded with each strike.

  She had never witnessed a fight before. If the sloppy battle of wills before her were the standard, then she would be happy to never to see another again. It was terrifying, and yet, she could not tear her gaze away from him. He moved like a beast ripping through easy, and completely drunk, prey until each dropped to the floor, gripping their sides. And Clara was left staring back at a pair of fuming stormy eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drunken murmurs were left in Adam’s wake as he marched into the fraternity’s kitchen. If his rage wasn’t enough to send the few partiers in the room packing, the violent swing of the door did.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Clara’s soft voice called behind him.

  His whole body spun in her direction. Still fuming, he asked, “What? You think you could’ve handled them yourself?”

  “No. Although I doubt they would have tried—”

  “Don’t be so naïve.”

  Clara’s body went rigid. “Don’t be such an ass. I’m trying to say that you didn’t have to. But …” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I’m glad you did. Thank you.”

  One look at her worried face and his anger vanished.

  When Luke messaged him earlier, Adam expected to show up and casually bump into Clara. There was a greater chance she would be more receptive afte
r a few drinks. He never thought he would walk in and find her being harassed by a bunch of drunken fools. The moment one of them put his hands on her, Adam saw red.

  “You’re welcome,” he said before letting his bruised body fall to the nearest chair. He sat in silence, watching Clara rummage through the dirty white cupboards. “What are you looking for?”

  “A plastic baggie,” she replied with a tone that implied the obvious. She dove into another drawer. “I need it for— Ah! Here we go.” She shuffled to the freezer and filled the gallon-sized bag with ice before handing it to him with a small smile. “Sorry. It’s the smallest they have.”

  “What’s it for?”

  She looked at him as if he asked the color of the sky. “For your eye.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s bleeding.”

  Adam grazed his hand over his right brow. A warm liquid stained his fingers. “Assholes,” he muttered before shrugging it off like last week’s news. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

  “Still.”

  It was obvious she wasn’t accepting his he-man answer. Lifting the bag, Clara pressed the ice to his wound. The bitter cold was like a thousand tiny daggers. Adam jerked away, releasing something that resembled a caveman grunt.

  “Hold still,” she demanded.

  The sharp sting of the ice against the open cut caused more pain than fighting ten drunken losers. “Damn it, woman! That hurts.”

  Clara adjusted the ice pack, applying more pressure than needed and sent him a stern glare. “You wouldn’t be in any pain if you didn’t get in a fight.”

  “I wouldn’t have been in a fight if you wore something more appropriate to the party.”

  “So this is my fault?”

  Adam wanted to run his head into the wall. Of course she wasn’t to blame. That fault went to the drunken idiots. Adam released a heavy breath and said, “No. I didn’t mean it like that. Those idiots would have gone after anyone.”

  Another flash of irritation filled her eyes. “Yeah, that makes me feel better. Don’t worry, Clara, you’re nothing special.”