Chapter 7: An Alpha's Touch
1346 Words
Delia
Fuck Dennis. And all the rest of them. With their fake smiles and fake love.
I wiped furiously at the dumb tears that fell without caring what a fool I looked, crying in the backseat of a taxi.
Fool me for believing they could love me as much as they did my twin sister. She'd been the one they wanted all those years ago, at the orphanage.
I sniffled in the back seat of the taxi, the cold seeping into the taxi and making me feel even worse. I'd done something stupid again. It's only stupid things I've been doing lately anyway.
I hugged my arms to my body, the sweatpants not doing anything to ward off the cold.
You shouldn't have done that, Delia.
I shook the thought away, trying hard not to drown in self blame.
You should have stayed upstairs, in your room.
I'd known I was on thin ice hadn't I? I'd known they didn't care much about me if they could use me that way and still place all the f*****g blame on me.
And yet, I'd gone and confronted mother and Dennis. They didn't care. I would end up thrown out and forgotten, because I am not of any use to them anymore.
The tears came at full force, seeping through my eyelids, no matter how hard I tried hard to stop them.
The cab stopped and I slid out fast, rushing to slip into the evening rush hour crowd.
"Hey!"
"Hey, where are you going?" The taxi driver yelled.
I ran, not stopping, not looking back.
I came to a stop in front of a bar, and somewhere in the back of my head, I realized it'd gotten darker out.
I could go to Eva's place. She'd let me stay. She was the only friend is ever had. The only thing close to a friend at least.
I looked down at my feet, the thin slides I had on would have to do. I sniffled and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, pushing open the bar door with my other hand.
I stepped into the dim interior and made my way straight for the bar.
Shaking, I slid into a bar stool and one look at the barman had him turning to grab me a drink.
I knew my face had to be all kinds of f****d up. The blows from my father had been caught mostly by my arms when I'd tried to shield myself, but a few had landed right on my face.
My upper right eye felt super heavily, and my left cheek felt bruised and sore.
The barman slid a shot across the bar to me and I picked it up, the shot glass blurring before my eyes for a second because of the damned tears.
I threw back my head as I swallowed everything in one go.
It burned down my throat and I sniffled, coughing as I dropped the glass back on the bar counter for the man.
"Keep it coming, please." I rasped out, really wanting to drown.
I turned my head to look at the evening crowd at the bar, all hanging out with fun on their minds.
I wished I was as oblivious to everything else as they looked. But I couldn't forget everything.
Couldn't forget him.
I'd had him to myself for the most part of twenty four hours. He'd been mated to me.
And we'd had s*x.
I groaned as I remembered his touch on my skin, his hands sure on me.
I did not want to forget any of that.
He'd wanted me. I had felt it.
Didn't I?
I gulped down another shot, bending forward as the drink hit my stomach.
I sniffed, quickly downing another one.
I wanted to cry, but instead a little laugh bubbled out. I was starting to not feel so f****d up about the entire thing.
I was finally forgetting.
I wanted to forget being asked to replace Dennis. I wanted to forget my secret joy that she'd messed up, allow me the change to have Logan.
Him. I wanted to forget him, more than I wanted to forget everything else.
I lay my head down on the bar, suddenly feeling do drained I thought my heart would give out.
I'd rest for just a little while.
Just a few minutes. And then maybe everything would make sense again.
~
"Hey."
"Yo, Wake up, your husband's here for you."
My eyes slid open as I tried to focus on the man before me. "My husband? I have a husband?" I laughed.
"You don't know…" I burped. "You don't know what you're saying. I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend."
The barman. I shook my head as he came into focus.
He bent over to look at me. "Are you sure? I could swear you said he was your husband when you gave me his number."
I grumbled, going to rest my head back on the bar again.
He held me up, stopping me from lying down. "Are you saying you don't know the Logan guy you asked me to call?"
I stared up at him, my vision swimming. "Logan? That bastard. He's not my anything. He doesn't want me!"
I started to cry, my head hurt badly, and I didn't know where the pain was coming from, but my face hurt too.
"I hate him. I don't want him either. He can go and f**k himself. Or Dennis."I cried.
I felt hands go to my cheeks, rubbing across my bruised cheek. "f**k, you're hurt—"
His hands were yanked off me, as he went flying over the counter.
He landed against something as the sound of a crash filled the space.
Glasses shattered and bar hoppers gasped.
I felt the delayed surprise seep in as I noticed the gathering crowd staring at the angry man before me.
I blinked once, twice, trying to clear the haze and see if it was really who I hoped it was.
"Keep your f*****g hands, off my wife." A deep husky voice growled with fury.
I blinked again, shocked. I was someone's wife?
"I..I am not your wife." I blubbered, the haze returning.
"Why did you call me then?"
The deep rumble made me shiver. I knew that voice.
The barman stood up with a pained groan. "Hey man, I was just making sure she was okay. What the f**k?!."
"I'll take care of her myself."
He reached out to touch me and I shrugged out of his hold, tumbling off the stool.
I fell on the floor and yelped. "Don't touch me." I yelled, as he reached down to help me.
He didn't listen. Just picked me up off the floor anyway.
The haze was clearing and I could see his face.
Logan.
"Why are you here?" I asked him, my heartbeat picking up now that he was so close to me again.
"You called me, Delia."
I swallowed. "Don't say it like that."
His eyes were fixed on with a gaze that lured me to him, I wanted him to look at me like that all the time. "Say what like that?"
"My name!" I yelled in his face.
His gaze hardened as he gave me a quick scan. "You're hurt. And drunk."
"And why do you think I'm both of those things?" I asked him, my bravado fading away fast.
"Delia, I'm here to take you home."
"I don't have one because of you!" I beat at his chest, my quick switch in moods surprising even me.
He grabbed both my hands in a grip in one of his hands and placed the other one around my waist.
"People are watching, Delia."
I pulled my eyes away from his broad chest to look around us. He was right, people had stopped drinking and dancing to stare at us, drinking the both of us in.
I groaned, and allowed myself to do something I'd wanted to for the whole day.
I melted against him.
- Writer
