Page 3 of Falling for the Beast

Her father bought the car for her at an auction when she was sixteen. It was love at first sight. Sure, the red paint had faded over the years, and the convertible top wasn’t in great condition, but it had personality. Much better than the newer cars that all looked the same. She dreaded the day when she’d have to give it up.

The drive wasn’t too bad with the radio on full blast. When she turned off the highway, the trees grew thicker and she saw the appeal in living this far outside of town. It was beautiful. And peaceful. She drove up the long driveway, staring at the huge home. This was what she was supposed to clean? No wonder he needed a full-time person. It was more a castle than a house. Made of gray stone, it was two stories tall, and monstrous.

She parked her car and got out. She could do this. All she had to do was clean and maybe cook a meal here or there. She’d be fine. As she walked closer, she imagined the creepy house from A Series of Unfortunate Events, and she wondered if she was about to step into something dreadful. Was her story about to take a sinister turn? Shaking off the unwanted feelings, she knocked on the large wooden door.

The seconds ticked by. Could he even hear her? She should have asked Bird Lady. She knocked louder. When no one answered, she almost gave up, but then she remembered there might be some caretaking included in the job. Maybe the old man was an invalid. He could be having trouble getting to the door.

She knocked a third time — prepared to wait a while, but startled when the door opened a crack.

“What do you want?” The gruff voice came from the darkness beyond the door. She could barely make out the shape of a man.

“I’m Aribelle Cox. Accelerated Employment sent me. I’m here to be your new housekeeper.” She gave him her best professional smile.

“Go away,” he growled. “I don’t want you. They’ve sent the wrong person.”

He started to close the door, but she put her hand out to stop him. “I assure you, I can do the job.”

The man stepped closer. He wore a hoodie, the top down so far his face was completely in shadows. “No.”

The door once again moved to shut and she did the only thing she could think of. She clasped her hands together and begged. “Please. My rent is due and I don’t have anywhere else I can go. I’ve applied everywhere, with no response. If you’d give me a chance, I know I could do the work.”

He hesitated, so she persisted. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

An eternity stretched out as he considered her request. Finally, he turned away, leaving the door open. “Fine. You can start in the master bathroom, upstairs.”

He shuffled down the entryway. She followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. He wore gray sweatpants to match his hoodie. “Thank you, Mr. Walker. You won’t regret it.” He made a grunting noise, but she ignored it.

“There are cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, and in the cabinet in the master bathroom. Just do your job and leave me alone.” He walked over to the recliner in the living room and eased himself down, grabbing at his stomach like it hurt to move. He lifted the footrest and leaned back.

“I can help you—”

“No!” he shouted without turning, his voice echoing off the walls, and she cowered back. “Just clean.”

“Okay, Mr. Walker.” She hurried up the steps to find the bathroom.

When she entered, she could see why he needed a cleaning lady. Dirty towels lay on the floor, and dried blood stained the sink. The toilet had a brown ring on the inside, and the room smelled musty. She sighed and got out the cleaning supplies from the cabinet.

After an hour of scrubbing, she had the bathroom sparkling. Unsure of where to go next, she went downstairs to find the grumpy master of the house. Hopefully, he wouldn’t bite her head off. As she entered the room, he spoke without turning his head. “Next you can clean the kitchen. You can take a break for lunch, but don’t come bother me.”

It was strange, he hadn’t taken his hood off his head. She didn’t even know what he looked like. “Okay,” she said, making the best of the situation. At least he hadn’t yelled at her this time.

The bathroom had needed attention, but the kitchen was a disaster area. Dirty dishes piled up, stuck on food making the job even harder. An unpleasant smell came from the sink, where she found a bowl filled with milk that was slowly turning into some science experiment. She held her breath and dumped the contents down the disposal while running the water.

She washed the dishes and figured out where they went. She ate her lunch in the car, then continued to clean off the counters and mop the dirty floor. When she was done, she smiled at herself. There was no way he’d turn her away now. She’d made the place shine.

She hadn’t seen him get anything to eat while she’d been there, so she timidly entered the living room. He looked like he was asleep in his recliner, the television over the fireplace droning on, but when she started to back out he stirred. She cleared her throat. “Do you want me to make you a sandwich before I leave, Mr. Walker?”

“No,” he said without turning. “You may go.” He dismissed her with a wave. It was then that she noticed a white bandage wrapped around his hand, a bright red spot forming on the back.

“You’re bleeding.” She ran and knelt to examine him. “Did you fall and cut your hand?” She picked up his bandaged fingers, only to have confusion flow through her. These were not the fingers of an old man.

She peered up into his hooded face and gasped. Thaddeus Walker was young. Maybe not even thirty. Long, dark hair hung in his face, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few weeks. Just below his right eye, a large jagged scar extended down his cheek, disappearing into his growing stubble. The rest of the skin on his face was littered with smaller white scars as if he had fallen face-first into a bowl of razor blades. The sight of it made her flinch.

His bright, green eyes burned with fury. He yanked his hand away from her. “Get out!”

She fell backward and scrambled to her feet. “I’m sorry…I—”

“Go!” he yelled, picking up the remote control and throwing it at the wall. It shattered, leaving a dent.

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