Her Monster

Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2018 Sam Crescent

ISBN: 978-1-77339-611-8

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

HER MONSTER

Sam Crescent

Copyright © 2018

Chapter One

The sound of breaking bones didn’t help Caleb Carson’s need for vengeance. He stared at the man whose hand he had just shattered, and he felt nothing. This was not going how he hoped. Stepping away from the bleeding man, Caleb took the cloth from one of the men and thanked him for it.

I gave her to you. Why are you doing this? the man sobbed.

Caleb stared at the man who three weeks ago had given him his daughter, Faith Grey. She was eighteen years old, and quiet. She also looked at him for a long time as if he was going to hurt her. This man wanted to use his daughter to pay his debts, debts that were constantly growing as he didn’t pay them off in any other way. There was no way Caleb could let Faith go, or allow this asshole loose. The only problem was now he didn’t want to push Faith out onto the streets. Those were all problems he’d deal with closer to the time. He’d taken Faith as payment to protect her. That first look at her and the fear in her eyes, and he’d not been able to say no. His instant need to take care of her had completely surprised him. He rarely cared about women, apart from the pleasure he got from them. He certainly didn’t care what happened to them, but when it came to Faith, she’d broken down a wall within him that he couldn’t seem to rebuild. He had to keep her safe, and that meant killing this piece of shit.

Is it because of her scar? the dad asked.

He turned back to the dad and glared at him. Grabbing the back of the fucker’s head, he lifted it up. What the fuck did you say?

The scar. I know it’s ugly, but she’s a good girl. A virgin girl. No one else will touch her. You can train her to be exactly what—

Caleb plunged the knife he was holding into the man’s neck. He didn’t want to hear anymore coming out of his mouth. He was so fucking disgusted.

The sound of gurgling filled the room, and it didn’t give him a single ounce of satisfaction. In fact, it filled him with more rage.

No one spoke, and he was pleased about that, as otherwise his need for blood would move to one of them. Twisting the blade out of the dead bastard’s neck, he wiped it on the man’s clothes before stepping away.

Faith belonged to him now, and there was no way he was letting her go. She’d been given to him to settle a debt, and over the past three weeks, he’d watched her, seeing the fear in her eyes every time she looked at him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t know what it was, but each time he looked into her pretty green eyes he wanted to protect her.

The scar ran down the right side of her face, going from her eye toward her lip. It wasn’t ugly.

He’d not discovered why it was there yet, but he would.

Clean this piece of shit up, he said, stepping out of the warehouse. The moment he was free of the building, he took a deep breath. Staring up at the beautiful clear blue sky, he smiled. He could think clearly now. He didn’t know how long it would last, but until his need to kill came again, everything felt clear.

Running his fingers through his hair, he stepped toward his car and fired it up.

The moment he pulled out of the warehouse, his cell phone began to ring. His brother, Beast Carson, was calling.

Enjoy your fun.

What the fuck do you want?

I want to know if you’re done killing the dad.

This was just one of the reasons why Beast was in charge. He knew what everyone was doing.

I’m done. I want information though.

About the girl we’re not talking about.

I want to know how Faith Grey got her scars.

Would you like me to pay a visit, look her over?

Caleb knew without a shadow of a doubt that Beast wouldn’t hurt Faith. His brother only had eyes for one woman in his life, and even though Hope was the same age as Faith, he’d never seen his brother so smitten before.

No. I want to know how she got it. The last thing he wanted was for Faith to be afraid of him even more. It was bad enough that she looked ready to run when he entered a room. No matter, if she was eating, reading, watching television, within a matter of seconds, she was gone.

He rubbed at his eyes.

He was a monster. There was no doubt about that, but he wouldn’t hurt her. To everyone else he was the monster. Faith knew his business. She knew that he killed for a living.

Rubbing at his eyes, he pulled into the parking lot outside of his home. He lived about thirty minutes away from Beast. He could have easily lived with his brother, but he liked his privacy. Also, there were moments where he didn’t want to remember what he did for a living.

They were a crime family. The Carsons had run their section of the city with an iron fist. Blood and death were what he’d known all of his life. Where other kids were learning how to grow up, he’d learned how to handle a gun, knives, and to torture the answers out of everyone.

He was good, but Beast was better.

Caleb was more than happy for his brother to take the lead. Being the head of the Carson family was not what he wanted to do. He was more than happy with taking orders.

Staring up at his home, he caught the green-eyed beauty sitting near the library window. She always sat there. Always stared out across the gardens. Not for the first time, he wondered what she was thinking about. Climbing out of his car, he pocketed his cell phone and went straight toward the kitchen, where Anne was making dinner.

She’d been part of the Carson family for decades. She knew what they did but turned the other way, cooked, and organized cleaners for them. He wouldn’t have anything happen to her.

Hello, Mr. Carson.

No matter how many times he told her to call him Caleb, she wouldn’t do it. She liked to have that formality between them.

Has our guest eaten something?

Anne frowned. She did. Nibbled on some toast, made her excuses, and she’s been up in that library staring out at God knows what. I don’t get it. She’s going to start wasting away.

She’d been on the fuller side. Her clothes read a size eighteen, but in the past few weeks, he’d noticed those clothes were getting loose on her. He didn’t like it.

Make us both a sandwich, he said.

Anne didn’t question him, and began doing what he asked. He waited for her to finish watching as she placed a slice of ham, cheese, and pickles on one side, spread the other with mayo, and put them on a pretty plate.

Thanks.

He took both of their plates and headed straight toward the library on the second floor. Outside the door, he paused, wondering if she’d be able to cope with eating in the same room as him. He’d never hurt her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid. Caleb understood fear, and he respected it. Just because he’d never hurt her didn’t for a second mean, he couldn’t.

Opening the door, he returned her wave. She sat near the window with her knees pressed up against her chest. He felt this overwhelming need to … protect her. He didn’t get it. She wasn’t his responsibility, but sending her out there in the world, it didn’t feel right, not to him.

If you don’t eat something soon, Anne’s going to have a fit. He moved toward her, putting their plates on a nearby table and carrying a chair to sit right in front of her. Anne’s the cook.

I know who she is, she said.

There was no attitude as she spoke. She offered him a smile. He liked the sound of her voice. It was gentle, kind, a little raspy from not being used.

Handing her a plate, he stared into her pretty green eyes. You’ve got to eat.

Without question, she took the plate he offered.

Sitting in front of her, he picked up a sandwich and took a large bite. Eat.

This time she did, and her eyes closed.