The Alphas Cursed Mate

Haunted

Valerie

“Please don’t do this, Paul. It wasn’t my fault!” The pain in my chest twisted as if my heart was physically breaking into a thousand pieces. With every word he screamed, I broke a little more. “Please, I love you!”

His eyes turned wide with rage. “You love me?” He shouted. “If you love me so much, why don’t you try harder? Why should I continue to live with someone who can’t even cook a decent meal?” With that he slammed his fist on the table before knocking everything to the floor, dishes shattering as they landed.

I jumped from my chair, backing away until I found the wall. Stomping over to where I stood, his fingers wrapped around my throat. He squeezed until I saw stars, then dropped me to the floor, where I lay in a pile of glass.

“Clean this mess up.” He spat, going back to the kitchen.

I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

He hadn’t always been like this. My mind went back to four years prior, while I was in college. I had been twenty one and he was twenty nine. He was my first, my only. He had always been a bit controlling, but the first two years were just small things. Since he was such a charmer, it was easy to brush them to the side. He bought the sweetest gifts, always had a surprise up his sleeve, called me beautiful and promised the world.

He proposed after my graduation with a gorgeous ring. While I had concerns, I said yes. I had never been in a relationship before and couldn’t see the red flags as clearly as I should have. After we got engaged, he arranged for my things to be moved into his place while I was at work. Walking into my empty apartment hit me like a ton of bricks and I knew something was very wrong.

Almost immediately, things escalated. He started drinking heavily and became even more controlling than before. The gifts, sweet words and gestures all disappeared. I couldn’t leave the house without being interrogated and his strict rules and expectations made it impossible for me to hold a job. Other than the $138 I had left in an old checking account, I had no income and no hope for one in the near future. He only gave me enough money for groceries each week, which was almost always never enough.

The first time he hit me was three months after I moved in. He was intoxicated and yelling over something I apparently did. I had enough and said I couldn’t take his temper anymore. When I told him I was leaving, I felt the impact to my cheek. It caught me by surprise and I couldn’t understand what had happened. He told me I wasn’t going anywhere and what would happen if I tried. He reminded me that I had no job, no money and no friends or family. It was true, but I needed to find a way out, I just didn’t know how. Not yet, anyway.

Snapping back to the present, I retrieved the broom and dustpan, then quietly scooped up the remaining of our dinner from the floor and carried it to the trash can. He stood there, leaning against the counter, watching me with silent rage spewing from his eyes.

“What’s your excuse this time?” He asked while sipping his drink.

“I told you last week that the oven timer was broke. I forgot about it and lost track of time. It wasn’t that burnt, Paul.” I dared meet his gaze as he sucked in a ragged breath.

Turning, I went back into the dining room. Glass dug into my knees as I swept up the shards around me.

“You told me, huh?”

That was the last thing I heard when I felt a hard thump to the side of my head and all went black.

I woke up screaming, the memory so vivid it felt real. I was covered in sweat and fought to catch my breath. It felt as if I was doused with gasoline and covered in flames. Panicking in the dim light, I looked around, remembering where I was.

Put out the flames! Put out the flames!

Tossing the blanket to my feet, I ran to the door. Bursting through it and lunging down the stairs, my knees met the cold snow as I sunk onto the ground. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, sobbing into my hands while the snow melted around me. I felt so hot, as if a fire had burned from the inside out and it wouldn’t calm. My hand moved to the side of my head, tracing the scar that lived along my hairline. I could still feel the heavy whiskey bottle meeting my head with a loud crack.

My hair fell in tangles around my face, growing wet from the snow and tears as they mixed. It always felt so real. There had been countless nights like this, where I couldn’t separate my past from my present. I was stuck there in that little dining room, sweeping the glass that lay around me. I could smell the slightly burnt chicken and feel the mashed potatoes beneath my palms. I could remember the story I told the nurse when I woke up in the hospital, and the disappointed look the nurse gave me in return as she detected my lie.

That wasn’t the first time I had visited the hospital due to Pauls temper, but it was the worst. Even after, I was too afraid to leave immediately. That didn’t come until six months later when I snuck out of the apartment, leaving Paul passed out in the bedroom.

I had already packed and hidden two duffles in my trunk, all the rest could stay behind. I tiptoed out the door, hurried down the stairwell and raced through the parking garage where my car waited. When I flipped the key over, my headlights caught him as he stumbled towards the car. I hit the gas and never looked back.

It had been almost a year since then, yet he haunted me still.

Every day.

Every night.

Outrunning his memory fails most times. I changed my phone number, traded my car for another and skipped town. I always fear he will catch me and drag me back to that horrible apartment. So I keep moving, refusing to settle in any place for too long.

There was only once I had seen him, which was three months ago. He managed to track me down over two hundred miles. I was waiting tables in a little cafe and when I peered out the window, there he was. I managed to duck out the back door and ran back to my dingy hotel room that I called home. Luckily, I didn’t own much and was on the road again within an hour. That’s how I ended up in the little one bedroom apartment now, paying month to month.

The night air brushed over my skin and a calm began to set in little by little. The sting of the cold started to make its way through my thin clothing as I pushed onto my knees, rocking back to sit on my heels. The wind blew my hair around me as I peered up at the sky. There was no snow falling, no threatening clouds, only stars as far as the eye could see. I sat there for a moment taking them all in. God, they were beautiful. All twinkling against the darkness, as if their very existence was the only reason the sun went down every day.

I steadied my breathing until I felt relaxed, finding peace within the night sky. My body was becoming sore, maybe from the adrenaline, maybe from the cold. Probably both. As I readied myself to stand, I froze again as a sound reached my ears. My eyes tried to adjust to my surroundings, but I couldn’t see anything. I could hear it though. Was it breathing? I choked down the fear that began to creep within, my voice coming out a small whisper.

“Hello?”