Shifter Romance: In the Pale Moonlight (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance) (New Adult Shifter Billionaire Romance Short Stories Alpha)

In the Pale Moonlight

 

 

 

Shifter Romance

 

 Copyright 2014 by A.J. Lewis - All rights reserved.

 

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This was my second day on this cleaning job and the noises coming from the basement were beginning to grow terrifying. The old man that had called me out assured me that it was just his dog that he kept locked up when visitors were around so that no one got hurt.

The sprawling manor was covered in a coating of dust, and even though I’d steadily been working at it, the next two floors weren’t even close to being done. I felt pity for the animal as its whines echoed out from the storage closet and into the rest of the first floor. I liked dogs, but if the old man thought he’d bite someone, I best not feel too much pity.

“Damn.” I mumbled out as I realized my second bottle of pine fresh had run out.

The old man had been hiding out in his office all day while I worked my ass off to get everything spick and span. I wandered over and knocked lightly on the door. A creak of floorboards sounded just before the door opened.

“Yes?” The rickety weasel faced old man asked.

“I’ve run out of a couple of things. I think I’m going to have to cut out early today. I’ll start again first thing in the morning.”

The old man sneered, “I think not. I’m paying your company quite a sum to get this place clean and presentable and you haven’t made as much progress as I expected. There are a few things in a closet in the kitchen. Use what’s there.”

Asshole. I’d made plenty of progress. The whole place already smelled better. When I’d first gotten there, everything smelled of mold. I gave him my best plastered on smile before going to the kitchen. Again the whining dog could be heard through the basement door.

I opened the door next to where the dog was held and searched around. There was plenty of bleach, some outdated multi purposes things. No piney fresh anything, nothing for dusting. I’d have to make do with what was available.

“Help me…” whispered out between the whines of the dog.

The hair rose on the back of my arm and I paused in my search. Did I just hear a voice? The dog quieted then. The scratching on the door stopped. Everything seemed to go still then.

I must be losing it.

“Help.” Came out faintly again. I heard it. There was no denying that a voice had just come from the basement door where the old man said his dog was. I envisioned some helpless person in there, just like on TV or the late night news.

I jumped into action then and attempted to open the door. It was locked. I jiggled the handle but to no avail.

“Is… is there someone in there?” I whispered through the door while pressing my ear against it.

A faint male voice replied back, “Yes, please, get the key. The old man has the key.”

I wasn’t crazy after all. The nasty old man was. He was keeping someone prisoner in there, and all along I’d thought it was a dog. It had sure sounded like one though. I’d heard a ring of keys jingling from the old man’s side when he showed me around on the first day.

‘I’ll be back soon.” I whispered though the door.

My heart was thumping in my chest as I went back to the old man’s office door. I knocked loudly, trying to remain calm and composed as if I hadn’t just discovered something that could likely get me killed.

The creak of the floorboards inside the room sounded again, and the old man opened the door with a huff.

“The closet where the supplies are is locked. I can’t get what I need.”

The old man raised one graying eyebrow up, but didn’t ask any questions. The smart thing would have been to call the police at this point, but I wasn’t sure if the old man was armed. He could simply take me hostage or do away with me if he grew suspicious. I mean the guy locked someone in a storage closet!

He walked towards the kitchen and I followed. This was it. The moment where I’d have to act, the old man took the keychain that was snapped to his belt and flicked through the keys one by one until he found the one that went to the door in front of him. He reached for the knob and turned it, surprised to find it already unlocked, and opened the door.

I snatched the keys from his hand before he could speak, and shoved him inside the open door with one swift motion, and finally slammed it shut behind me. I heard a thud, and yelling.

“HOW DARE YOU!” flooded through the kitchen. I flicked through the keychain until I found the one he’d selected previously, crammed it into the lock and turned until I heard a click. I flicked through the keys again, shoving one after another into the basement door. The old man relentlessly beat against his prison, causing me to shake and quiver in fear.

At last, I got the basement door open. Light streamed into it revealing a small set of stairs. On the first step lay a crumpled man. An attractive crumpled man at that. He was shielding his eyes from the incoming light. And although he had beautiful dark hair, smooth skin, and seemed to be well dressed, he also looked tired. His eyes had dark bags under them, and his face was covered with rough stubble.

“Thank you.” He whispered, “I need water.”

I ran for the sink, and filled a glass to the brim. He guzzled it down, but didn’t attempt to get up. The old man continued to bang against the door, yelling obscenities at me.

“Do you want me to call the police now?” I asked the man on the floor. He shook his head no.

“No police. I can’t.” He finally stiffly stood up, using the wall for support. The man towered over me in height. His stormy blue eyes gazed down at me, penetrating my very soul with their ferocity.

“I am Rex Huntington, the true owner of this place. The old man is a fraud and I will deal with him.”

 

Rex was intimidating. The way he said “deal with him” caused me to shiver with fear despite just seeing the man lying on the floor weak and tired. I hoped he didn’t deal with him in a horrid way. I’d have to call the police then. Although I understood wanting to hurt someone who’d locked you up in a basement for however long. Who wouldn’t?

Rex placed his now empty glass on the kitchen island. The clank of the glass on marble rang out in a definitive tone. He went over and banged on the door where the old man had gone silent.

“Charles. I’m free now. Are you ready to come out and face your consequence?” Rex playfully grumbled.

Surely he wasn’t going to do anything horrible in front of me. I began to question my sanity again. What if the old man had locked him up in order to save himself in some way? Why does no one want to call the police? It was too much. And in all honesty, I was scared. I didn’t want to witness anything brutal. If I attempted to do anything, what if this Rex guy lashed out at me? I’m sure he was probably a little traumatized from being in the basement. That could alter anyone’s thoughts.

I began to edge out of the room as the old man pleaded for forgiveness while Rex grinned a toothy smile. It was disconcerting to see and he didn’t look my way until I’d nearly made it out of the room. His face snapped towards mine.

“Wait, wait. I need to thank you. Please.”

Even that had me on edge, “I’m good. It’s all good. Glad you’re safe. I really need to go. I uhh, have to get more cleaning supplies.”

Rex’s attention was focused on me now. He fumbled around in his pocket until he produced a wallet. He leafed through it, grabbed some bills and walked towards me with them in his outstretched hand.

“Please, take this. I don’t know how this would have happened otherwise.”

When he got close I flinched away. It was just a reaction from my previous thoughts. This man could do anything and I didn’t want to upset him but it was just instinct to think he’d attack. His previously deranged looking face immediately turned to worry when he noticed my reaction.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Really. I’m sorry I spooked you.”

I felt bad. Mainly I was just worried about what would be happening next. I felt a little pang of pity for the old man then. There had to be a way to get someone here to help the situation.

“Just don’t hurt the old guy please? Let him go to jail or something. It’s the right thing to do.”

Rex’s entire demeanor changed then. He threw his head back and laughed, clutching the money to his chest as great bursts of a deep throaty laugh escaped his mouth. Yeah, I think it was safe to say this guy was out of his mind. The laughter continued for far longer than was necessary.

“I’m not going to hurt him. Yeah, I’m going to fire the guy and he’ll be blacklisted and excluded from our uh club but he won’t be physically hurt. Well, unless he tries to assault me when I let him out. It’s fine. This guy was my assistant. I guess he thought if he didn’t let me back out from the basement he could just have free run of the place.”

Club? I’m assuming he was in some sort of “elite, I have money” club, despite not wanting the old guy to be hurt. I didn’t quite understand why that wasn’t his motivation. This guy was something else. Rex held out the crumpled bills to me again.

“I don’t really want to take this. I was already prepaid for the cleaning. I’m just glad everything is ok.”

Rex shook his head and smiled an easy smile, “Please. It’s the least I could do.”

I still didn’t want it. It felt wrong. Even if the dude could afford it and I needed it. We went back and forth on the matter with him insisting and me rejecting it, until I won out. He watched as I gathered my supplies and waved goodbye to me when I drove my car out of his long driveway and onto the street.

It’d been an exhaustingly confusing day, and the sun was setting. The entire drive back to my tiny apartment I debated on calling the cops anyway. He’d seemed so honest when he said he wouldn’t hurt the guy. I didn’t know how to take the whole ordeal. If there ended up being some sort of murder or something, I would be to blame for not coming forward.

The old guy probably deserved it. What a terrible thought, but really. Who are these crazy people? I made it home just as the streetlights flicked on. My keys jangled in the door when I unlocked it, and my fluffy grey tomcat Mouser rushed out of the door and into the night as soon as I opened it. I watched his little form dart across the complexes yard. He stopped to sniff at a tree and then jogged around.

I sometimes worried about him, but he would be scratching to come back in within the hour. He knew who fed him and where his comfy bed was. My living room only contained a small couch with a round coffee table. It faced an old TV that I never really turned on.

My insides were grumbling with hunger as I set everything down and reached for the fridge door. Inside the only thing I had was a couple of hard lemonades and some cheese cubes. Not the best mix, but I hadn’t been able to grocery shop this week. I laid my mighty feast out on my coffee table and stuffed a handful of cubes into my mouth, then sorted through the pile of mail I’d picked up. Bills bills bills.

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