Chapter 1
1115 Words
~ Norah ~
The back of my head hit the brick wall hard.
Pain exploded behind my eyes. I slumped forward, but a heavy hand wrapped around my throat and pinned me in place.
"Where is he?" the man growled.
He smelled like onions and stale beer. His grip tightened, cutting off my air.
"I don't know," I choked out. I clawed at his fingers. My nails dug into his skin, but he didn't let go. He was huge, too strong for me to fight.
"Your dad owes forty grand, Norah," a second voice said from the shadows. "And he isn't answering his phone."
I kicked out. My boot hit the big guy's knee. He grunted and loosened his grip just enough for me to suck in a breath.
I didn't scream. I reached into my pocket, grabbed the pepper spray, and jammed the nozzle into his face.
He howled and released me. I scrambled sideways, slipping on the wet pavement. I needed to get to the street.
A hand grabbed my hair.
The second man yanked me back. My scalp burned as he threw me toward the metal dumpster. My shoulder hit the steel with a loud clang.
"Grab her legs," the first man ordered. "We're taking her to the warehouse."
"No!" I shouted.
They didn't stop. Their rough hands grabbed my ankles, dragging me through the mud. My fingernails scraped against the ground, but I couldn't stop them.
"Let her go."
The voice that spoke was deep and calm.
The men froze. The one holding my legs dropped them. I crawled backward until my back hit the dumpster, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.
A man stood at the mouth of the alley.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a black coat. He walked toward us. He didn't look like a cop, but he looked dangerous.
"This is private business," the second thug said, pulling a knife from his belt. The blade caught the light from the streetlamp. "Walk away."
The stranger didn't stop.
"You're trespassing," the stranger said. "This is Sutton territory."
The thug with the knife hesitated. "We have orders from Valenti. The girl is collateral."
"Your orders are old," the stranger said. "Valenti sold the debt to me this morning."
"Bullshit," the thug spat. "I'm taking her."
The stranger moved.
He was fast. He caught the thug’s wrist, snapping the bone with a loud c***k. The knife fell to the ground. The thug screamed, but the sound cut off as the stranger punched him in the stomach. The man folded and dropped to his knees.
The first man, the one I had sprayed, charged blindly, swinging his fists.
The stranger side-stepped him. He grabbed the back of the man's head and slammed his face into the brick wall.
There was a loud thud.
The man crumpled to the ground and didn't move.
Silence fell over the alley. It had taken him just ten seconds and the two enforcers were down.
The stranger turned to me.
He had a sharp jaw and cold grey eyes, a scar that cut through his left eyebrow. He wasn't breathing hard, he hadn't even broken a sweat.
He looked at the mud on my coat and the blood on my lip.
"Get up," he said.
It wasn't a suggestion.
I used the dumpster to pull myself up. My legs felt shaky.
"Thank you," I whispered. "They... they were going to take me."
"I know," he said.
He reached into his coat pocket and I immediately tensed up.
He pulled out a phone, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me.
It was a security footage.
The screen showed my father. He was at the bus station downtown, looking over his shoulder, clearly nervous, and holding a duffel bag. He handed cash to the driver and got on a bus marked Nevada.
The video ended.
I stared at the black screen and my stomach dropped.
"We've been tracking him for two weeks," the stranger said. He put the phone away. "He didn't just leave town. He skipped on the debt."
"No," I said. "He wouldn't leave me."
"He did," the stranger said. "The Valentis were going to kill him. He knew it, so he ran and left the debt behind."
"I don't have forty thousand dollars," I said. "I can't pay you."
The stranger stepped closer and towered over me.
"I know," he said. "I'm Declan Sutton."
My blood went cold. I took a sharp step back, my spine hitting the dumpster. I knew that name. Everyone in the city knew that name. They were the ones you didn't cross.
"The Valentis didn't want to chase your father," Declan said. "So they sold the debt to me. I own the paper now."
He pointed to the unconscious men on the ground.
"Pack Law says when a debtor runs, the debt falls to the next of kin. You belong to the Suttons until the forty thousand is paid."
I looked at the men and one groaned.
"You have two choices, Norah," Declan said. "You stay here with them. When they wake up, they won't care about the paperwork. They will drag you to a warehouse and hurt you just to send a message to your father wherever he is."
I looked at the thug with the broken wrist. He was starting to move.
"Or," Declan said, "you get in my car. You work for me, and you pay off the debt."
"What kind of work?" I asked. My voice trembled.
Declan looked me up and down.
"You have no scent," he said. "For a wolf, that makes you a ghost. I have a use for a ghost."
A siren wailed in the distance. It was getting closer.
"Time's up," Declan said. "The police are coming. If they find you here with two half-dead men, they will arrest you. The Valentis own the cops in this district."
He was right. I had twelve dollars in my bank account. I couldn't fight a legal battle.
I looked at the alley exit. My father was gone, my apartment wasn't safe, and the Valentis knew my face.
Declan turned and started walking toward a black SUV parked at the curb. He didn't look back.
I looked at the man on the ground. His eyes were starting to open.
I gritted my teeth and ran after Declan.
I yanked the car door open and slid into the leather seat just as a police cruiser turned the corner.
Declan put the car in gear. He didn't look at me.
"Smart choice," he said.
He hit the gas and drove me away from the only life I had ever known.
- Writer
