Beast Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Also by Lisa Edward

  About Beast

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by the author

  About the Author

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference.

  Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Edward

  Cover design by Robin Harper of Wicked by Design http://www.wickedbydesigncovers.com/

  Interior design and formatting by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  First ebook edition: October 2018

  First published as an ebook and as a print-on-demand edition: October 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1727589290

  ISBN-10: 1727589297

  Follow me on

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorLisaEdward

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/LisaEdward

  Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-Edward/e/B00J5BWNBO

  Website: www.LisaEdward.com

  Instagram & Twitter: lisaedward01

  Songbird (#1, Songbird)

  Songbird Caged (#2, Songbird)

  Songbird Freed (#3, Songbird)

  Duty of Care (novella)

  Ripped

  Broken

  Life had always been good to me, and I made sure to keep it that way. My mom had given me the only tool I’d need to succeed—manipulation. Add to that the fact I was beautiful, confident, and rich, and I was on my way to having it all.

  My name is Annabelle, and I was the stereotypical head cheerleader, dating the star quarterback. The school was mine, and I couldn’t wait to be crowned prom queen.

  One night, my world changed forever. All I believed my future would hold was ripped from my grasp in a ball of flames. I lost my identity, my boyfriend, and my friends. Suddenly, I was the monster nobody wanted around.

  A scarf hid my true identity, and I was left staring at the beast in the mirror. My appearance now matched the ugliness I once had inside, but I’d do everything I could to prove I still had some beauty buried deep within.

  Sometimes, you have to lose who you are to become who you were meant to be.

  For all the diamonds – shine brightly.

  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so they say.

  But what if your life revolved around your appearance and the perfect features that people flocked to be near? If all you needed to do was flick your hair or give a lazy smile, and everyone around you felt an inexplicable pull, and would gladly sell their soul to do your bidding.

  If physical beauty can dictate our lives and control those around us, what happens when that beauty is taken away?

  There was never any doubt I would get my own way because I always did, no matter who I was up against. Still, half the fun was pretending I would bend to their way of thinking, only to watch their conviction dissolve when I pouted my pink-stained plump lips, twirled my long, silky auburn hair around my finger, and cast my emerald green eyes adoringly up at them through my lash extensions.

  This time, the game was being played with my boyfriend, Jarod. Deep down, he must have known he could never win. Yet he still posed his argument to persuade me to let him go to his best friend Barclay’s house after school, when he knew Friday nights were our stay-at-home date nights to watch chick flicks and make out. My parents were never home on a Friday, so the house was always ours.

  Of course, he didn’t know I had arranged to go to the mall after school with my friends, nor did he need to. For now, he was begging me to cut him a little slack, promising to make it up to me when I saw him later in the evening. I had to give him credit for at least trying, so I gave a little … and took a lot in return.

  Let him win? I don’t think so. Let him think he’s won? Now that was a whole different ball game.

  I sighed in mock defeat. “Okay, Jarod, you win as always. Why don’t you go to Barclay’s right after school? I guess I can fill in some time by going to the mall with the girls.” I took his hands in mine, allowing my biceps to push my D cups together into the most enticing cleavage. “I could really do with a new purse to take to prom, and there were those to-die-for kitten-heel sandals that I saw last week.” Jarod beamed, but I wasn’t sure if it was in triumph or relief. “Of course, I’m a little short on cash at the moment until Daddy pays me my allowance, so …”

  “No problem, baby.” Jarod’s hand was in the back pocket of his jeans to fetch his wallet before I could finish my sentence. He folded a bundle of bills and handed them to me. “Why don’t you get the purse and the sandals?” Opening his wallet again, he removed the last bill. “And have a coffee or juice with Dalia and Charity. I won’t be long, I promise.”

  “Oh, Jarod. You’re so generous!” I gushed as I tucked what looked to be at least three hundred dollars into my Gucci purse. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” With a lingering kiss on his perfectly bowed lips that was sure to have him at my house when I snapped my fingers, I strutted off to find my girls.

  I knew where Dalia and Charity would be. I’d told them where to wait for me, and I had no doubt they would sit there all evening and well into the night if needed. As I descended the front steps of Rockwell Prep School and turned left toward the statue of the founder of the most exclusive and expensive school in Boston, I saw the girls perched on the stone wall surrounding the monument.

  “Annabelle! There you are,” Dalia called as she stood and straightened her adorable red and white polka dot mini skirt. She had great clothes; so great that half of them now had a place in my wardrobe. I eyed the skirt, picturing what cute tops I had to go with it.

  “Dalia, I lurve that skirt. It’s adorable,” I told her between air kisses.

  I made a circle in the air with my pointer finger, and she obliged, twirling to show it off from all sides. “You like? I bought it with some of the birthday money my nan gave me.”

  “I definitely like,” I purred. “Do you think they’d have it in my size?”

  She giggled. “Don’t be silly. Of course, they do. We’re the same size.” Although we wore the same size, Dalia only reached up to the shoulder of my five-foot-ten frame. She hesitated for a split second, before adding, “But you can borrow mine anytime. Just say the word.”

  I smiled, rubbing her upper arm to seal the deal. “You’re so generous.”

  You see, the trick to getting your way was to make them think it was their idea. It was Jarod’s idea to give me all the money in his wallet so I could fill in time at the mall. It was Dalia’s idea to lend me the skirt, knowing full well she wouldn’t get it back until I’d grown tired of wearing it.

  Charity stood quietly beside Dalia, her slumped shoulders making her look smaller than her five-foot-three. Upon first glance at her rehearsed smile, you might think she was the same Charity
she’d been since we started at Rockwell Prep four years ago. But to my astute eye, I could tell from the messy ponytail and washed-out complexion that she was still miserable after her breakup with Barclay. I’d tried to be the dutiful best friend and console her. Dalia and I had bought ice cream and taken a bunch of tearjerker movies to her house, then listened to her go on and on … and on about why she should still be with Barclay, and tell us all the crazy ideas she had to win him back.

  She’d become a major downer.

  “Did you still want to come to the mall, Charity?” I forced a sympathetic smile, hoping she’d seize the chance to back out so she could go home and come up with more harebrained schemes to win back a guy who had already moved on. “I know you still feel awful about what happened.”

  Staring down, she gave an unconvincing nod. “He’s not worth it,” she uttered, her voice weak. “I need to get over it and try to forget about him.”

  Ugh! Great.

  “Yes, you do. It’s been what, three weeks now?” I slung my arm around her shoulder, tucking her into my side. “Well, if you’re coming, why don’t we stop at Beauty on Hyde? Dalia and I can get a mani-pedi while you get a makeover. You could really use one.” It had been far too long since a clay mask had been used to reduce those pores. We turned toward the parking lot at the end of the path where my custom painted Barbie pink Range Rover was waiting. A group of girls sitting on the grass under a shade tree waved frantically when I happened to glance their way. Reluctantly, I returned the wave, which was enough to have them giggle and smile from ear to ear.

  “Annabelle! Annabelle!” I heard my name being called as someone wearing last season’s bargain basement capris raced toward me. “What do you think?” I paused, a fixed grin on my face while I tried to figure out exactly what I was supposed to be noticing. By the way she was flicking her head from side to side, giving herself whiplash, I assumed it had something to do with her hair.

  “I took a picture of you to the hairdresser, and she matched the color … exactly.”

  Wow, that is creepy. “Oh, it looks great … hun.” I had no idea what this girl’s name was, but hun could be used in every situation and was quite often.

  “I just love it, don’t you?” Her hair was brassy without any of the luster and silkiness of mine. Obviously, my auburn hues had been lost in translation.

  “Well, mine’s natural, so I’ve loved it my whole life.” A gentle swish of my ponytail had the length glistening in the sunlight as it swept over my shoulder.

  “We could be sisters,” she gushed.

  Dalia sniggered beside me. “You could be twins.” The girl grinned like the Joker. “All you need to do now is learn how to do a front flip to a roundoff backflip into a layout, and you could be on the cheer team as Annabelle’s deputy.”

  Her grin faltered. “I can do a cartwheel.”

  “Oh, really? Why don’t you show us?” The girl nodded, then took several steps back. “Go farther back so you have plenty of space,” I instructed. She took another few steps away. “Farther.” I indicated with my hand, and she did as she was told.

  Now that she was far enough away to stop bothering us, I redirected my attention to the sad sack that was Charity. “Now, where were we?” We continued walking, totally ignoring the girl who might have been cartwheeling all the way home. “Time to put a smile back on that cute-as-a-button face of yours. Some blush and lip gloss wouldn’t hurt either. It’ll help you feel better so you can stop moping around. It really does make me so sad to see you like this.”

  “It does?” Her hazel eyes were as big as saucers as she gazed up at me.

  “Well, of course it does, silly. If one of my besties is hurting, it hurts me too.” I placed my hand on my chest over my heart for extra emphasis. “It’s even hard for me to spend time with Jarod, knowing that his best friend has hurt you so badly.”

  “Oh, my God.” Dalia clutched my arm, tugging it until I turned toward her. “You’re so sweet, Annabelle.” She leaned around me as we strolled. “Isn’t she the sweetest, Charity?”

  Charity’s shoulders straightened. “I don’t want my breakup to affect your relationship with Jarod. I’ll be better, I promise.”

  Squeezing her against me, I rested my chin on top of her head. “Aw, I know you will.”

  Kicking off my ballet flats, I tossed my store bags onto the bed, then flopped down beside them, enjoying the feel of my body sinking in feathers. If there were two things I loved almost as much as Jarod, they were shopping with the girls and driving my Barbie pink car. The thrill of entering a store and being able to leave with whatever caught my eye gave me that warm, fuzzy feeling. Couple that with driving around town in my convertible with the sun shining on my face and the breeze gently blowing through my thick hair, and I was in heaven.

  Today had been a good day, and I had the spoils to show for it. The only negative from the entire afternoon at the mall was when the new girl at the coffee shop got my order wrong. How difficult was it to bring me a tall, low-fat, double shot caramel macchiato with extra foam? She was lucky I didn’t complain to the manager and make her first day at Coffee Beans her last. Instead, I had been charitable and explained to her exactly what I wanted in a loud, clear voice until she finally brought it to me and set it down with a trembling hand. It had only taken me returning my coffee three times before she’d mastered it, and I was sure my tutoring would serve her well with future customers.

  At least my shopping adventure had been a success. I had bought the purse and sandals I’d mentioned to Jarod, along with a halter-neck dress in baby blue, a second pair of sandals, and a cute white blouse that would go perfectly with Dalia’s red and white polka dot skirt.

  There was also a tiny bag from Victoria’s Secret with an even tinier black bustier and matching thong. Prom was in a few weeks, and I decided I would finally give Jarod what he had been wanting since we first started dating three years ago. I knew girls my age said they made guys wait until the third date, but I had made Jarod wait three years. Sure, we’d fooled around—in fact, we’d done everything except actual intercourse—but I knew Jarod was taking way more cold showers than the quarterback of the football team should have to. So I was prepared to give him this one thing, to let him win, because I truly did love him. After all, we were the perfect couple. The star quarterback and the head cheerleader could only ever be with each other. No one else was worthy.

  Besides, we would continue to college in the spring, and I couldn’t enter this next phase of my life a virgin. Jarod and I would be attending different universities on opposite coasts. He would be following in his father’s footsteps to study medicine at Stanford, while I was attending Harvard, my parents’ alma mater. It wasn’t really what I wanted to do with my life, but what better way to meet someone who would one day be a successful businessman and take care of me than to study with them. Jarod and I had talked about staying together, and I really did want to, but I knew deep down the distance would eventually come between us. Not only literally but also emotionally. I could have moved to the other side of the country to be with him, but I wanted to stay close to Boston and my family, and I couldn’t be any closer to home than at Harvard.

  At least Charity had been a little bubblier this afternoon, which was a blessing. It was so hard to watch her mope around, and really, how could she be a cheerleader when there was no cheer. If it weren’t for her gymnastics skills and the fact she was so small and light that we could boost her to the top of the pyramid with one hand, I would have given her a stern talking-to. The only obstacle to tackle now was that we had already hired the limo to take six of us to prom. If Charity couldn’t get a date in the next couple of weeks, then that would screw up all our plans.

  There was only one thing to do. I needed to persuade Jarod to speak to Barclay about Charity, and if we couldn’t get them back together, then Jarod needed to find someone else on the football team to ask her to prom. I didn’t care if they already had a date; a cheerleader coul
dn’t go to prom with just anybody, especially a cheerleader who was one of my best friends. To have her arrive on the arm of a math geek or a science nerd would be social suicide for all of us.

  With a plan formulating in my head, I quickly showered, lathering my body in my favorite body wash, Chance by Chanel. The same scent was slathered on in lotion, followed by perfume. Chance was my signature scent, and I wore it every day because every day was a “chance” for something fabulous to happen. My red lace lingerie was Jarod’s favorite, and I knew he couldn’t resist a low-cut, tight fitting top, so I slinked into something that was sure to have him agreeing to whatever plan I told him to implement to get them back together.

  My mother lived by the motto “Give a little, take a lot.” She taught me from a young age that men were pawns who could be manipulated by a pretty girl. As I’d grown and reached my teens, she’d taught me another valuable lesson. Our greatest tool in getting what we wanted was between our legs. It was how she had won my father initially, and when it had looked as though he was growing tired of her, she had “accidentally” gotten pregnant with me. I guess that was why Dad was never around much. Work took priority in his life, and business trips were a weekly occurrence, but that suited my mom just fine. She had what she wanted—a beautiful home, money, and social standing. A loving husband wasn’t necessary.

  Jarod would do this for me for one simple reason. I had told him prom night was the night I would finally give myself to him completely. But there was a catch; there always was. You see, Charity, Dalia, and I had made a pact that the three of us would lose our virginity on prom night. So it was either all of us or none of us.

  My mother gasped. “Oh, honey, you look beautiful!” She brushed a tear from her bottom lashes, then clasped her hands at her chest. Pausing at the top of the swooping staircase, I took a moment for my mother’s words to wash over me before descending in my one-of-a-kind designer prom gown. It was divine. Months of planning had gone into this occasion, but my gown had taken precedence over all other aspects of this night. It had to be perfect, and it was. In an ocean blue shimmering with crystals, it hugged my curves in all the right places. The one-shouldered design fell like a sash across my right breast and gathered at my left hip to create movement as I walked. It was the most gorgeous creation I’d ever seen.