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1191 Words
"I was." I look over my shoulder. "I just wanted to get something from the kitchen to eat. I don't have any food at home."
The Alpha gives me an annoyed look, but since I also have to help him in business affairs, starving me has no merit for him. "Tony will drop you home. Get some groceries on the way. He has my card."
I nod. "Thank you."
I hurry out to where a dark car is already waiting for me. Tony, a tall, muscled, and quiet man in a chauffeur uniform, is already waiting by the driver's seat. On seeing me, he holds open the car door.
"Jonathon said I could get some groceries," I tell him. "Can we stop at the supermarket on the way? He said I can use his card."
Tony nods.
He carefully closes the door behind me when I get in before getting into the driver's seat.
Tony has been with Jonathon since I remember. He's always been a silent type, but I don't trust him one bit. As a child, I thought I could confide in him. I wanted to run away. I told him my plan, hoping he would help me. In return, Jonathon was waiting for me that night when I attempted to sneak out, and I got my ass handed to me in painful ways.
That was the night I realized there was no one in this house who was willing to protect me. Tony was Jonathon’s right-hand man, one he trusted above anything. He was the one who drove me back and forth from my apartment to the house, and if I had to go anywhere else, he would be the one to drive me. When he wasn't driving me, he was parked outside my house, keeping an eye on me.
I stare out the window at the dark city rushing past us and recall the day I had been told that I would now be living in my own apartment. I was also informed of the blood debt that tied me to the Moore family, or, to be more specific, to the Alpha of the Moore family. Any attempts to escape from the Alpha would result in a painful death. The blood debt would turn my blood to acid inside my body.
That was the day I finally gave up on my desire to return to my parents' home. I lift my hands to study the thin blue line that has always encompassed both my wrists like an inked bracelet. This line signifies the blood debt between me and the Moore’s Alpha. My father had held out my hands when Jonathon came to fetch me, and both Jonathon and him had made me swear the blood oath–me, a child, one who knew nothing of the horrors that awaited me. But my parents knew, and they had sent me off willingly. Anything to save their son's life.
The car stops at one of the 24/7 superstores, and I hold out my hand.
Tony studies me through the rearview window. "Tell me what you need and I'll get it."
My jaw tightens. "I have to get some personal hygiene products as well, and I'd prefer to get them myself."
He stares at me for a minute before reaching into his wallet and handing me the card.
I hurry inside.
I rarely get an opportunity like this, but when I do, I tend to take full advantage. Grabbing regular groceries, I add plenty of feminine hygiene products without looking. The cashier gives me an odd look at the twenty packets. However, he adds it all up and swipes the card I hand him. It's once he's packing the groceries that I pretend to count the hygiene products and look shocked. "Oh, crap! I was supposed to get five!"
He gives me an annoyed look. "Lady, you should have counted them."
The receipt is already in my hand and I fold it into my pocket before I use my voice sweet and ask, "Can you just return the rest? You can give me cash instead. I don't mind."
The cashier sighs in annoyance but proceeds to remove the items and takes out the cash. He draws up a return receipt and hands me a bunch of bills. I quickly flatten them out and tuck them in my jeans pocket. Picking up the bags, I crumple the new receipt and toss it into the trash bin as I walk out.
Tony is waiting for me by the car, and he eyes the bags in my hands. He holds out his hand for the receipt and is about to take the bags from me, but I shake my head. "It's okay."
He doesn't insist, and I stuff the bags in the back seat next to me.
When we reach my apartment complex, I sigh in relief. This might be another prison for me, but at least there's no one waiting inside to torture me. And since Jonathon has to keep up appearances in our pack, he picked a luxurious area. My apartment, by itself, is small, my furnishings bare, but I don't care.
It's still a haven for me.
I take the elevator to the fifth floor and, once the door of my apartment is securely closed behind me, I let out a whoosh of breath, my knees trembling.
My back is burning right now.
Stripping off my clothes, I head to the shower.
I let the cold water run over my open wounds, my hand over my mouth to muffle my screams. I finally summon up the courage to pick up the long cloth stick to run over the wounds to clean them. Even wolf shifters can get infections if their wounds don't heal. I sit in the bathtub, knees drawn to my chest. Even now, I feel a surge of helplessness, of suffocation.
Sometimes, I wonder if my parents ever regretted sealing my fate so knowingly, if my brother ever realized what his actions did to his sister. I've nearly forgotten their faces and voices, but this anger and hate inside me is like a furnace.
They all probably thought I wouldn't make it past a few days.
My hand curls into a fist, jaw tight.
I'll survive. I'll always survive.
I made that vow to myself. In this world, it's just me, and I will never fall.
Forcing myself to my feet, I turn off the water and grab a towel. Wiping myself down, I grab the sealing gel and stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, carefully applying it over my open wounds. All this will do is cover the torn flesh.
Grabbing a loose t-shirt from my wardrobe, I pull it on, pairing it with a pair of shorts, and then head to the groceries that are still lying by the door. I put them away and take out a bowl of soup from the fridge to reheat. As the food reheats on the stove, I stand on one of the chairs, and from the top of the kitchen cabinet, I remove a small box.
- Writer
