Enchanted Fairytales

Copyright © 2013 Cindy C Bennett

All Rights Reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. USA.

Smashwords Edition

Enchanted Fairytales is a series of short stories based on beloved fairytales. The stories are written as if the fairytales never existed. are contemporary, some are paranormal, some have elements of fantasy or magic.

Beautiful Beast: After a cruel prank, Calli is forced to move into Monster House to befriend the beast. Alex is determined to hate Calli, who he believes is there to get a peek at the beast. Calli must convince Alex that she isn't there to harm him, and that her feelings for him are very real.

Red and the Wolf: A sudden increase in the violence and frequency of wolf attacks in the forest surrounding Piera has all of the residents on edge. Ruby, contending with the news that Rafe has come home after leaving her three years earlier, and staving off the advances of his brother Lowell, doesn't have time to deal with wolves - until she finds herself fighting against a wolf for her life.

Snow White: Snow White, sent into the forest to be killed, escapes. She stumbles upon a tiny, magical kingdom called Fableton, where time stands still for its trapped residents. Phillip, blinded centuries ago by a vengeful love, believes Snow is the key to breaking the curse and freeing them all.

The Unmasking of Cinderella: Forced into servitude by her wicked stepmother, Amella longs for the simple freedoms her stepsister takes for granted. When she bumps into Char - literally - her world is suddenly turned upside down. Amella begins to believe that she can have a life she previously thought nothing more than a dream with Char by her side.

The White Swan: Cursed to live as a swan by day by the jealous Benno von Rothbart, Odette desires nothing more than to tell Victor what's happened, but can't out of fear for what Benno might do to him. Victor discovers her secret and together they try to break the curse. But the cost of doing so might just be too much

Beautiful Beast

Red and the Wolf

Snow White

The Unmasking of Cinderella

The White Swan

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Titles by Cindy C Bennett

Beautiful Beast

She was beautiful, and she knew it. She sat glaring at her reflection in the oval mirror of her vanity. Clear unmarred skin, sleek dark hair, and sky blue eyes stared back at her. Beauty was the curse in her life that many envied, but only because they didn’t understand the burden it carried. She wished for once to be lauded for her mind rather than her looks.

She turned away from the mirror, her eyes sweeping the shabby room. It sat clean and tidy as she always kept it. She did the same with the rest of the small house as well, in spite of her father’s constant attempts to undermine her efforts.

She opened her closet, scanning the few contents. Her father’s pitiful paycheck did nothing for her wardrobe, which required creativity on her part. She could sew as well as any professional seamstress, and kept her wardrobe up to date by changing the items. Good thing she was something of a trend-setter rather than a trend follower.

Someone knocked on the door, and she quickly pulled on a pair of shredded jeans—thank heavens for that fashion trend—and a pink tee with lace patching the holes. She hurried through the house, slipping her feet into the flip-flops that sat near the couch. She was grateful her father wasn’t home. Opening the door revealed Jennae and Brittany, her two BFF’s, and Eli and Brandon.

Hey, Calli, Jennae and Brittany said in unison. Eli rolled his eyes as they broke out in giggles, but Brandon—who’d been enamored with Brittany since Calli rejected him—smiled indulgently.

Hey, guys, Calli said, pulling the door closed behind her, not bothering with the lock. This wasn’t exactly a prime neighborhood for thieves looking for items of value.

They moved down the street, Eli and Brandon behind the laughing girls with linked arms, kicking a rock back and forth. They came to Punky’s Burgers, the local dive that was the only place to hang out in the not-so-thriving metropolis of Orchid. The town had absolutely nothing in common with the beauty of its namesake—well, not on this side, anyway.

They pooled their meager money and bought two orders of fries and an order of onion rings, as well as one extra-large soda to share. The found their usual table, chasing off two pigeons, and ignoring the mud-smeared, food splattered top.

The conversation was usual, gossiping about others at school or complaining about the teachers. They avoided talking about their home life because there wasn’t much good to say from any of them. Calli only half listened to the mundane conversation, until it turned.

Who’s up for the Monster House tonight? Eli asked the group.

Oh, c’mon, Jennae groaned. When are you going to give that up?

Calli’s eyes moved past the group to the very house they spoke of. It sat high up on the hill, overlooking the town. It was larger than all five of their houses put together, opulent, beautiful . . . and mysterious. No one had ever been within its walls. At least, no one they knew of. The man who owned the town lived there. He didn’t own the town exactly, but he owned the only bank in town, which was basically the same thing.

I’ll give it up when you quit being such a chicken and go with me, Eli said to Jennae.

Not gonna happen, she said. Calli knew she lied. Jennae wanted to go as badly as Eli did.

Brandon usually joined Eli in trying to cajole them, but since he’d developed a crush on Brittany, he waited to hear her opinion before voicing his own. He was so obvious. And Brittany was so oblivious.

How ‘bout you, Calli? You in?

Calli didn’t answer Eli. The bigger part of her knew it was wrong, that she shouldn’t even consider it. Another part of her was curious. Beyond curious, honestly. Not about the monster, so much, though she kind of thought she might want to catch a glimpse of him, but mostly curious about the house.

On the other side of town there were people with money, like something out of a Dickens novel. They had large houses, they drove nice cars, they wore designer clothes. But Monster House was something else. Monster House was the stuff of movies with its size and mystery.

Instead of answering Eli, she just shrugged. That kept her neutral, gave her the chance to go with whatever everyone else decided.

I’m in, Brittany said.

Me, too. Brandon’s response was quick on the heels of Brittany’s.

Looks like you’re the only holdout, Eli told Jennae.

Fine, whatever. She flipped her fingers at him as if she capitulated to peer pressure. Calli knew better.

Let’s go, then.

Wait. Now? Calli asked.

Why not? It’s going to be dark soon. Rumor is the monster comes out just before dark to howl at the moon. If we’re gonna go, I don’t wanna miss the show. Eli found his rhyme hilarious and didn’t realize no one laughed along with him.

They cleaned up their mess, dropping it on top of the overflowing garbage can. Calli felt some hesitation over going up now. As much as she wanted to see the house, she didn’t really want to be one of the kids who went up just so they could say they saw the monster. It seemed cruel.

Are you coming? Jennae called back to her. She looked to where they were already sauntering down the road. Deciding she didn’t want to be the one who refused to go, she jogged up to them, putting aside her qualms. Stupid peer pressure.

* * * * *

He was a beast, and he knew it. He didn’t need a mirror to tell him so. He didn’t need his father refusing to look at him, or the pitiful glances from the staff members. He touched the side of his face, felt the lumpy, distorted skin beneath his fingers.

With disgust he flung himself away from the wall. He grabbed the jump rope and began quick skips. Sweat soaked his shirt and dripped from his hair. He’d been at his workout for three hours now. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes, like today, no amount of adrenalin, sweat, pain could ease his mind. Tonight would be sleepless.

He threw the rope violently to the side. He stretched a few times and exited the workout room. It was almost time. He jogged up to his room and showered. Sweat pants and a long sleeved tee, in spite of the heat. He pushed the brown fedora down tightly onto his head.

Stepping out onto the back deck, he saw he was almost too late. The sun was lower than he liked. Not that it mattered all that much. He just had less time for reflection. He turned to face the setting orb, the edge of the world on fire. He let his mind go back, sink into memory with the setting sun. The memories came like darts: painful, piercing, unstoppable.

As the sun disappeared, the final memory exploded, pulling him down into it. He threw his arms wide and let it loose. His yell was loud, guttural, ascending with the agony until his voice ran hoarse with it. His hands fisted as his voice tapered off. He breathed heavily.

He heard it then, the laughter. He spun around and saw the rustling bushes. Five heads began running, bobbing up and down on the other side. It wasn’t the first time, but tonight, with the pain so deep, he didn’t have his usual restraint.

Hey! he yelled. With that, he began pursuit.

* * * * *

They snuck quietly along the backside of the tall hedge surrounding Monster House. Eli led the way, managing to arrange it so that Calli walked right behind him. Calli knew what he was up to. She’d known for some time that he liked her, but she wasn’t sure if she liked him back. Though mostly a nice guy, he could be overbearing and kind of immature sometimes.

He knew just where the best viewing position was, which made Calli think he’d probably done this before. When they stopped, he motioned her forward.

Come over here, Calli. This is the best place to stand. He took her arm and guided her in front of him where she stood on a slightly elevated piece of ground. He was right: from here she had a clear view of the backside of the house.

The house was as large as it looked from below. A balcony on the second floor overlooked the swimming pool that was fed by a man-made waterfall. Brick and cement surrounded the pool which was itself surrounded by lush green grass. Tall darkened windows blocked the view of the interior of the house. They sat silently, whispering among themselves as the sun drew lower in the sky. Calli was just beginning to believe that they were wasting their time and that the rumors were nothing more than stories when the back sliding glass door slid open. Eli grinned and elbowed her.

Calli watched the figure walk out onto the deck. He was tall—really tall. And broad. Other than that she couldn’t see anything. He was completely covered in clothing other than his hands, which looked entirely human. An Indiana Jones type hat was pulled low over his ears, covering anything they might have seen. He moved to the edge of the deck, limping a little. He stopped at the bricks edge and turned to face the setting sun. He stood silently.

So far, she had seen nothing to prove him anything but a normal person who didn’t want to be seen. Then he did something strange just as the suns edge disappeared. He threw his arms wide, as if to embrace the night, and lifted his face to the sky. The cry that emanated from him shocked her at first, and she jumped. But as the wail continued, she could hear the pain pouring from the sound. Her heart constricted with sympathy and she wanted to reach out to him. The sound ripped into her mind.

When he stopped, the silence was deafening for long moments until Brittany giggled nervously, which set Brandon and Eli off. Calli watched as the figure standing with arms akimbo turned their way.

Crap. Run! Eli whispered loudly.

Hey!

Calli flinched at the yell from the figure that was now running after them. She wasn’t much of a runner, particularly with her flip flops on. The others were far ahead of her when she heard the crashing in the bushes behind her. Terror gripped her and she ran faster.

Wait! she gasped. None of them even hesitated. The toe of one of her flip flops caught on a root in the path. She stumbled and fell. As her head connected with a rock to the side of the path, the world went black.

* * * * *

Pain shot through her head. She groaned and opened her eyes a slit. The world bounced around her in a dizzy spin. Someone carried her. She peered up at the dark figure. She couldn’t make out any features, but the sight of the Indian Jones hat brought a new round of terror.

No! she screamed. Or rather, tried to scream. It came out as nothing more than a whimper. She attempted to wiggle free, but he shook her and the movement brought a shaft of agony that in turn brought the darkness once again.

* * * * *

Calli blinked her eyes open. Darkness surrounded her, tempered by moonlight coming in through the window. She turned her head to gauge her surroundings and realized she was in her own room. She moved to sit up, pain shooting across the left side of her head. She groaned and brought her hand up, touching the bandage. Slowly, carefully, she pushed up into sitting position. She touched the bandage again and felt the bulk of it. It started on her left temple and ran to the back of her head.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stopped, closing her eyes against the wash of dizziness and nausea. When the room stopped spinning, she opened her eyes . . . and saw her father sleeping in a chair near her door. Her mouth dropped. She couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been in her room, unless it was to yell at or punish her.

She stood and walked over to her mirror. A purple smear ran beneath her eye, and dark blood stiffened her hair below the bandage. She wondered idly who had bandaged her. Sleeping in her room or not, she doubted it was her father.

She turned toward him, watching him. She’d seen pictures of him when he was younger. He’d been an extremely handsome man. She favored her mother, who shared the same ebony hair and blue eyes as Calli. Her father now had bags below his eyes. His jowls sagged beneath the perpetual gray stubble. Drinking had etched out the broken arteries that ran across his nose and cheeks. All evidence of his attractiveness had been firmly buried under the hard life he’d lived since the death of her mother.

Calli moved to him and shook his shoulder gently.

Dad. Wake up.

He groggily blinked his eyes open, startling into an upright position when he realized she stood next to him.

Calli. He scrubbed his cheeks. What . . . what are you doing out of bed?

What are you doing sleeping in here? she asked.

You have a concussion. They told me not to leave you alone. I’m supposed to wake you up every couple of hours.

Well, I’m awake now, she said.

He stood and guided her back to the bed.

What can I get for you? Do you want some water? Are you hungry?

I’m fine, she said, sitting down on the edge of her mattress. It was highly unusual for him to be offering to serve her rather than the other way around. What happened? she asked, touching the bandage again.

You tripped up on the hill and hit your head on a rock.

Calli thought about his words, processed them, and slowly memory returned. They’d been at Monster House. He saw them and chased them. She remembered falling. And then . . . nothing.

Who found me? she asked.

He father shuffled nervously, looking at the ceiling as if he could find her answer there.

Dad?

Uh . . . He brought his gaze back to hers. Mr. Stratford brought you here and called me. He also brought some fancy doctor with him.

"Mr. Stratford? Calli was stunned. The banker?"

The very one, her father said, a note of resignation in his voice.

Wait. A doctor? Her mind immediately turned to the cost that a doctor who made house calls was going to incur. She paid all the bills from her dad’s meager paycheck, and she knew all too well how tight money was. Did I get stitches or something?

Her dad nodded. Sixteen of them.

Calli groaned again, this time in despair. I’m sorry, she said. Her dad nodded.

What were you doing up there, Calli?

Uh . . . How could she admit she’d gone up there to stare at the monster? It was a low, cruel thing to do. No matter their circumstances, she’d always tried to hold herself above mean pranks. The room gave a spin, and she moaned. I need to lay down, she said.

He reached out to steady her as she did so—another oddity. He pulled her blankets up to her shoulders, and patted her arm awkwardly.

Go back to sleep, he said softy. I’ll check on you again in a couple of hours.

She nodded, grateful for the reprieve from is question. He moved back to the chair and sat.

Calli? He said her name in the darkness.

Yeah?

We’ll talk about this tomorrow.

Well, crap.

* * * * *

The beast huddled on the floor. What had he been thinking, chasing them like that? He knew better. He was now paying the price. The burning ache in his arm and leg throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He did the breathing exercises he’d been taught. They didn’t make the hurt go away, but they helped him control his reaction to it.

He thought of the girl, the one he’d carried back to the house. There was so much blood. Panic had engulfed him at the amount of blood that oozed from her head. And yet, beneath his panic, beneath the blood, he’d recognized the beauty she possessed. Her dark hair hung in thick waves. Her alabaster skin was smooth and clear over high cheekbones. Her red lips were perfectly formed, even in their slackened state. Shaped brows above impossibly long, dark lashes that spread across her cheeks.

He might be a beast, but somewhere deep inside the part of him that was still human reacted to her beauty, drawing him like a moth to flame. He’d held her cold, still hand while his father pressed a cloth to the side of her head. When they heard the sirens turn up their long drive, he’d released her, vanishing into his dark room, giving himself over to his own pain once he knew hers would be taken care of.

Now, her image haunted him. As he let himself into the fantasy of that image, his pain eased enough that he could slip into a restless sleep.

* * * * *

It wasn’t until noon that Calli finally felt ready to get up. She wanted to shower, but her dad told her she couldn’t get the stitches wet for 24 hours. She wasn’t happy about the clotted mess in her hair for that long. She changed her clothes since she was still in the ones she’d been in the night before, beyond relieved that her dad hadn’t changed her into her pajamas. At seventeen, she was a little old for that.

Her dad made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on stale bread. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she took her first bite. She ended up eating a second one, followed by a glass of milk.

Calli, we need to talk, he said as he took the empty plate and glass from her.

Okay, she said, wanting to avoid the discussion by claiming exhaustion. It wouldn’t be an entirely untrue excuse. She did feel weary. But she’d never been one to avoid unpleasantness—well, most of the time anyway. She figured she may as well get it over with.

He sat in the chair he’d moved back into the living room from her bedroom. She reclined on the couch across from him. He sat forward in the chair, resting his forearms on his thighs. He sighed wearily, scrubbing his stubbled jaw.

I have a pretty good idea of what you were doing up on the hill, Calli, he began. I don’t approve of it, of course. He looked into her eyes. And I’m surprised at you. Shame suffused her at his words. But that’s neither here nor there at this point. What’s done is done and now there’s a price to be paid.

A price?

He nodded. Mr. Stratford is willing to drop the charges.

"Charges?" she squeaked.

You were on his property, trespassing.

I didn’t . . . we weren’t in the yard. We were behind the bushes.

Her dad shook his head. Doesn’t matter. He owns most of the hill. His property doesn’t end where the grass ends. His tone indicated this should have been obvious to her. She honestly hadn’t thought of it, had followed Eli blindly. Okay, not exactly blindly. She’d known what she was doing.

He wants to . . . press charges against me?

"He has pressed charges, Calli. A tremor shivered through her frame. But he—" He cut himself off, dropping his head into his hands.

He, what? she asked hesitantly.

He’s willing to make a deal.

What kind of deal?

He says . . . he says that if you’ll live at his house and be his son’s friend and schoolmate for a period of six months, he’ll drop the charges. And . . .

Calli’s stomach twisted furiously. And? she prompted with a whisper, not sure she wanted to hear the rest.

And he’ll pay the doctor’s bill.

Calli pushed up from the couch, her head spinning from the sudden movement. She took a few deep breaths then strode across the small room. She stopped short of spinning on him, knowing she’d probably fall over from the motion. Instead, she faced the wall. He wanted her to be a friend to the monster? The mysterious thing who howled at the moon? No way! For six months? That was, like, an eternity. She’d rather go to jail.

Then she thought of the last thing her dad said. He’d pay the doctor’s bill. They couldn’t afford it, but it would probably be a drop in the bucket to the banker. She wanted to flat out refuse, but knew she’d have to think this through. If she said no, that bill could be the thing that sunk them for good. They were barely holding on to their house as it was. It was no secret that her dad’s car was on its last few miles. She turned around to find him watching her.

Calli, who else was there with you? She dropped her eyes, refusing to answer. The rest had gotten away. Her dad stood and walked to stand in front of her. Tell me. If you tell me, I can tell the police then you won’t have to pay for this alone. He gripped her upper arms urgently. I know you didn’t think of this. I know you didn’t do it alone. Please, Calli, tell me so we can fix this. We don’t have to give in to his demands.

She shook her head and the room swayed. Dad, I really need to lay down again. He relaxed his intense stance, nodded curtly and walked with her back to her room. Once she lay down, he moved to the door.

Calli, he said, if you just—

Dad, she interrupted. Just let me rest. Let me think about this for a while, okay?

He nodded and closed the door behind him. Tears welled in Calli’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to help. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to sleep.

* * * * *

Two days later, Calli felt much better. She’d showered the day before, and in spite of the slow, painful process of washing the blood from her hair, her spirits improved just from that. She showered again, dressed, put some makeup on and carefully fluffed her hair, covering the shaved spot as best she could.

Her dad was working today, which was good for her. That meant she could set out on her errand without argument from him. Her head still hurt, and every once in a while the world tilted, but she felt she could do this.

She left her house with a note for her dad in case he came home early—something else she rarely did—and headed to the other side of town. It was a long walk, taking her nearly half an hour to make the bank. When she finally arrived, she had to sit on the steps out front for a few minutes and rest. She wished she’d remembered to bring a water bottle.

She stood and turned toward the bank entrance, fear climbing her throat now that she was here. She forced it down, pushed her shoulders back, and climbed the remaining steps, entering the cool interior.

There weren’t many people inside the richly appointed building. She saw the Smythe’s over talking to the loan officer. The poor farmers were probably begging for a loan to save their struggling land. Another woman she didn’t know stood at the counter. She was definitely not from Calli’s side of town if her clothes and designer purse were any indication.

She hurried up the stairs to her right, unnoticed. She knew just where Mr. Stratford’s office was—everyone did. A pinch faced secretary sat at a cluttered desk outside his sanctuary. She looked up at Calli’s entrance. Her eyes widened at the sight of Calli. She was used to the reaction from people who didn’t know her. But then the woman’s eyes scanned her ragged clothing and her eyes narrowed, seeming to silently judge her and coming to a quick verdict.

Can I help you? she asked in her most unfriendly voice, letting Calli know that she was in the wrong place for whatever she was looking for.

I need to see Mr. Stratford.

The woman blanched a little at her confident statement. Do you have an appointment?

No.

The woman smirked. I’m sorry. He’s unavailable.

I think you’ll find he’s available to me, she said boldly. My name is Calli Clayson.

No sign of recognition lit the woman’s face. I said he’s unavailable.

Calli stepped forward, leaning her hands on the woman’s desk. Please announce me and let him say whether he’s unavailable.

The woman began to stand and Calli made her move. She darted around the desk, and the woman, and pushed the door open to Mr. Stratford’s office.

Young lady! the woman exclaimed, following closely on her heels.

The man behind the desk looked up from a paper. What’s going on? he demanded.

I’m sorry, sir, she ran around me. I’ll call security immediately.

I’m Calli Clayson, she said quickly as the woman took one of her arms in her hand.

The man behind the desk stilled, his look turning shrewd. It’s alright, Martha. Ms. Clayson and I have business to discuss.

That took the wind out of Martha’s sails. Calli grinned triumphantly at her as if to say, see? Martha humphed and exited, closing the doors behind her briskly. However, Calli’s bravado slumped when she turned back to the imposing man who now stood.

He was tall, she suspected as tall as the figure she’d seen raging at the setting sun. She wondered if it was him, and if so, what caused his deep pain. Right now he just looked arrogant. He was a good-looking guy for someone his age, though, she couldn’t help but notice.

Please, Ms. Clayson, he said politely, sweeping a hand toward the pair of chairs in front of his desk. Have a seat.

She stepped forward and slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs.

Can I get you anything?

She began to shake her head, then changed her mind. Yes, I could use some water.

Do you want aspirin with that? he deadpanned. She shook her head. He walked over to the window and poured her a glass of water from a pitcher that sat on a high desk there. He handed it to her before taking his seat on the opposite side of the desk.

Can I assume you’re here to discuss my proposal?

Calli took a long swallow of the water before answering. She sat the glass down on the desk and leveled her eyes at him.

I came to see if there is something else I can do.

No. His answer was abrupt, final. Her mouth dropped at this unexpected turn.

You’re bribing me to spend time with your son.

Yes.

But . . . she sputtered. "That’s so . . . unfair."

He glanced toward his window. "If there is one absolute I have learned in my lifetime, it’s that the cliché is true. Life is unfair."

Calli clamped her hands together, determined not to lose her temper. What was the saying? It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar?

Listen, Mr. Stratford—

No, you listen, he said, sitting abruptly forward in his chair. "There is no negotiation here. You were trespassing. I know why you were trespassing. Calli’s cheeks flushed. If you’re so interested in seeing the monster of Orchid, this is your chance to get an up close and personal look."

But, I . . .

Tell me, Ms. Clayson, can your father afford the bill from the doctor who stitched you up? Calli lifted her chin, refusing to answer. He opened a drawer and pulled a piece of paper out, which he tossed across the desk. There’s the bill. The bill I’m prepared to pay. If you think your father can manage it, by all means take it and go.

Calli took the paper and scanned it. When her eyes reached the bottom and the staggering total, her throat tightened in distress.

Of course, there’s still the trespassing charge as well. You’ll likely get a fine for that, and some community service.

Calli’s eyes came back to Mr. Stratford’s. She was really beginning to dislike this man. A sick feeling of resignation flowed down her spine. What choice did she have?

Define friend, she finally said.

You’ll live at my house for six months. In that time you’ll befriend Alexander, spend time with him.

What about school?

You’ll be tutored alongside him.

But what about my friends? She was upset at the thought of not seeing them daily at school.

They have each other. I’m sure they can live without you.

She slapped her hands on the desk. That’s not what I mean and you know it.

He grimaced. Fine. You can have Saturday’s off, alright? On that day you can do anything you wish.

Calli shook her head. But my dad . . . he won’t do well without me. He needs me.

He’s an adult. He’ll survive.

Calli glared at his callous words. You don’t understand. It’s only the two of us. I take care of the house, pay the bills, wash his clothes, cook his food.

You do all of that? He was incredulous. I’ll hire a maid for him. She can do all of that.

Pay his bills? Calli asked skeptically.

He rubbed one cheek, contemplating. Then he glanced at her. I’ll assign one of the interns to him. They can take care of his bookkeeping.

Calli shook her head. You’re asking me to leave him for six months. That’s too long.

He can come see you whenever he wants. And you can see him on your day off.

I’ll stay for three months, you’ll drop the charges and pay the bill, and pay me as if it’s a job.

His brows lifted at her audacity. Do you understand the value of what I am already offering? Aside from that, he flipped his hand toward the bill she held, "the cost of a maid and an intern to take care of your father. And you also wish compensation?"

Calli knew she treaded dangerous ground, but she lifted her chin, giving one sharp nod.

Six months, the bill paid, the maid and bookkeeper, weekends off, and a weekly wage of a thousand dollars, he said.

Calli’s head spun at the amount. A thousand bucks a week? Her father barely made that in a month. She quickly did the math and realized the money would not only get them out of their desperate straits, but would also provide her a nice college fund. And maybe a new pair of jeans. She swallowed, not wanting to appear desperate.

All of that and I also get Wednesday nights off.

You really want to risk all I’m offering for another 4 hours a week? He laughed humorlessly. Keep in mind, Ms. Clayson, I know your financial situation as well as you do.

Okay, fine, she conceded. Just one more thing.

I can hardly wait to hear this, he said lightly.

Her eyes dropped to the desktop. Do you think, maybe, you could arrange for rehab? For my dad, I mean. Some kind of outpatient thing, so he won’t lose his job.

He was silent for so long she finally lifted her eyes to his. She couldn’t read his expression. He stood, extending his right hand to her. Deal, he said.

She also stood, placing her hand in his, giving it a firm shake. Deal, she repeated.

As she left the bank to be driven home by the dour Martha, at Mr. Stratford’s unshakeable insistence, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made a deal with the Devil.

* * * * *

Calli stood looking out her bedroom window. The wooden back fence was only about fifteen feet from her window across a mostly dead stretch of lawn. The fence itself was peeling and falling apart in places, even sagging near one of the corners.

She sighed and dropped the corner of the sheet that served as a drape. A glance at her watch told her she only had a few minutes. She walked over to her bed and picked up her small bag. She didn’t have much to take with her. A hand written card on a piece of paper fluttered to her floor. She picked it up.

Jennae, Brittany, Brandon, and Eli had thrown her an impromptu party last night. Of course, it was only the five of them since none of them could afford to throw a real party, nor had houses big enough to accommodate more than a few people. They’d made her a cake that slightly resembled Sully from Monsters, Inc. The handwritten card had a grotesque monster drawn on the front, compliments of Eli’s rather unique talent. The inside said: Don’t get eaten by the monster. But if you do, we’ll cut him open and rescue you!

She wasn’t allowed to tell anyone the details of her deal with Mr. Stratford. Her father knew why she was going, that the banker agreed to pay the doctor’s bill, and of course he knew of the maid, but he didn’t know the rest. Her friends had been told she was being assigned community service at the Monster House for trespassing. None of them had volunteered to admit their role as accomplices and take part of the burden.

She reached up and rubbed her fingers across the scar beneath her hair. The stitches had come out a few days ago, and honestly, already the scar was so thin she could barely see it.

A honk alerted her to the arrival of her ride. She tucked the paper deep inside the bag and walked through the small living area to the front door. Her father was at work. He couldn’t afford to miss any more days than the two he’d stayed home to nurse her.

A long black limousine awaited her. She quickly glanced up and down the street to see who might be watching. Most everyone was at work, and she didn’t see anyone who cared to discover who was honking. She dashed out and slid in, slamming the door behind her before the driver could do so. She watched through the window as he tipped his hat with an amused grin and walked around to the driver’s side.

Calli slid low in the seat, though she doubted anyone could see her through the dark windows. They drove down the rutted streets and up the long hill toward the house she’d both envied and feared for so long.

The driver pulled through the wrought iron gates and around the circular drive, stopping in front. Calli stared gloomily at the house. It was much taller than it appeared from below, and even from where they’d hidden out back behind the hedges.

She jumped as the driver opened her door and wondered if she could just hide in the car for the six months. Terror gripped her at the thought of steeping through the doors into the house.

She was sure the stories of the monster were exaggerated, sure he was human. Okay, maybe not sure. But she thought he probably was. Maybe. She hoped.

As she climbed out, another man came down the steps, dressed formally. He was tall and thin, balding with sparse gray hair on the sides of his head. His eyes, though, were bright and friendly.