The Omega Reclamation

Two

Melody POV

When he is standing above me, I hesitantly peer up at him. I wonder if he remembers that today is my birthday. He quickly reaches out and smacks the side of my head. “Here girl, take the key and unlock the shackle. You have ten minutes to get dressed and make me breakfast.”

I quickly grab the key and unlock the shackle from my ankle. When he walks upstairs, I quickly rush to the kitchen, pulling out eggs, milk, and bread from the fridge. I know he will be mad that there is no bacon, but we didn’t have the money for it when I went to the store. I start his eggs and run back downstairs to throw on my only pair of holey leggings and a maroon sweatshirt. I gather my long curly midnight-black hair up into a bun and return to finish his breakfast.

“Breakfast is ready, Dad.” I put the plate in front of him, waiting to see what he will do when he realizes that there is no bacon. Surprisingly, he’s busy reading a letter. I can’t tell what it says, but I can see the beautiful penmanship. His scowl becomes deeper and deeper until he quickly rips the letter in half repeatedly.

“Melody, go get some money and buy me some damn bacon.” He dismisses me and I run to the bathroom to take a courtesy look in the mirror. My skin is caramel like my mother's, only mine is littered with bruising. The one on my left eye is the worst that anyone can see, along with my busted lip that was reopened when he hit me this morning. I’m severely skinny and lacking any form. My eyes are a dull brown, showing the signs of the pain that has plagued me over the last ten years. I have to figure out what I need to do to get money today.

Stepping outside the run-down house, the sun blinds me for a minute. Damn, how long has it been since I have been outside? When it finally clears, I notice a gorgeous sleek black car parked right across the street from my house. What is a nice car like that doing in this neighborhood?

Snap out of it, Melody. Who cares? I continue my path to Draven’s house; I know he will help me out. Walking, I feel like someone is watching me, and when I look over my shoulder, I can still see the car. It looks like it has moved, but maybe that’s just in my head. At the end of the block, I can see Draven’s place, which is a lot nicer than mine. It’s a one-story small blue house with white steps leading up to the door. Looking at the house you would think that a nice elderly couple lived there, but I am awfully familiar with the monster behind the closed doors, although this monster is not as bad as my own.

Skipping up the stairs, I open the screen door and knock lightly on the door three times, then tap twice in quick succession. “Draven, it’s Melody, open up please.” When the door swings open, it reveals Draven.

He’s wearing low-hung gray sweatpants and no shirt. I gulp, looking at him. Draven is a gorgeous man. He is five years older than me since I’m turning twenty-one today. He has jet-black hair like mine, that is always styled to the side. He has deep blue eyes that show the hardships and wars he fights with his demons every day. Tattoos cover his entire body, including his fingers. On his right hand, he has a portrait of his father.

I’ve always had a small crush on Draven, but I’m too scared to try anything; compared to the women he’s brought home, I look like trash. I am also not experienced enough to really be of notice to anyone. Who wants damaged goods a woman whose father keeps her captive?

“Hey Melody, what brings you here today?” He moves aside so I can step into the house and closes the door behind us.

“I need some cash; can I do a run for you?”

“Melody, come to the kitchen so I can fix that lip for you. It needs ice or the swelling won’t go down.” He doesn't wait for me to say yes, just pivots on his foot and goes to the kitchen. He pulls out peas from the freezer when I ask again.

“So, can you help me, please?” I bounce on the balls of my feet while he walks towards me and sets the peas against my mouth. This thing with Draven was always weird: he cares for me whenever I come over and have visible bruises, but he never asks me where they came from. He only helps them feel better.

“Yeah, I can use some help, but not with a run.” “So, what do you want me to do?”

“This will be a major drop off. I will give you a few hundred for it. All you need to do is take the merchandise to the club. No one should be there right now. Knock on the door, tell them Draven sent you, head up the stairs, and give the package to the man in the office. Come back to me and collect.”

“What is in the package?”

Draven arches an eyebrow at me. “Didn’t you ever hear that curiosity killed the cat?”

“Yes, but I still want to know, so I know how much danger I am in if I get stopped.”

“Melody, it's just some odds and ends, nothing big. Just go straight there, then come back.”

“Fine, thanks, Draven.” I wait until he pulls out a smaller rectangular box and shoves it into the book bag.

“Take my bike out back. You can ride it.”

“Thanks.” I reach out and take the bag from him, put it on, and head out the back door. I know Draven is a wolf; that much my senses can still pick up on. What I don’t know is why he is here. When I move the black bicycle to the street, I notice that the car has crept closer. Please do not let that be the cops. I can’t afford to be stopped now. I pedal and continue to look over my shoulder all the way to the club. It seems like the car stayed where it was.

The drop off was easy enough after I told them that Draven had sent me. I went back to Draven, handed him back his bag, and parked the bike out back. He gave me five hundred for the drop, of which two hundred I quickly pocketed. The rest I would give to the monster known as Dad since I knew he was expecting me to have done a drug run and not a drop. I go to the store, buy his bacon and some milk, and go back to the house. On my way back, I noticed the car still sitting in the same spot.

The house smells like beer and weed when I enter. I immediately drop my head and my eyes. I know what the smell means: tonight is going to be an awfully long night. He is reminiscing again.

“Come here, girl.” My father slowly stands, and I can hear the belt he always wears sliding from around his waist.

“Dad, I can just go, please. I can get out of your way.” I am praying to whoever lets me move past him. I take a chance when he says nothing and inches closer to the basement. When I am close enough to reach the handle, I feel the first hit of his belt. It hits my back and feels like fire going down my spine. My knees buckle and I slam my hand over my mouth while whimpering into my hand. The more noise I make, the more he hurts me.

“You’re a stupid, selfish brat. You cost me everything.” He steps closer to me, yanking at my hair until my head strains back. When he balls up his open fist, I try to struggle. I do not want to be punched in the face again. He swings, clipping me under my right eye and my lip, as he stumbles and releases my hair. I curl into a ball in front of the basement door and wait out his punishment. He stomps on me a few times and kicks me in the side. I can feel my wolf seizing. She can feel my pain and is trying to help or trying to stay asleep.

When it feels like he is done, I make the mistake of looking up and he slams his fist into my left eye. “Get on your knees, Melody.” I hasten to my knees and close my eyes tight. I let my mind wander to my mom, and what she would think of this situation. She would be so upset this would probably kill her. After what feels like forever, he lets me go and tells me to go to the basement. I limp my way down and change into the gray t-shirt and cuff myself.

Happy birthday, Melody… you survived another night. Keep fighting.

Passing out from exhaustion and pain, I fall into a deep sleep.