Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 8: Long Journey

It has been too long. My body is growing more rigid by the second. I snuck out Mia’s window an hour ago and there is still no sight of her. Is she ok? Did she change her mind about coming? Did my father somehow already find out about her? The last question sends me into a panic and I am about three seconds from ripping open the car door to go search for her when I finally see her break through the trees and onto the dirt road where the car is hiding. I jump out of the car and run to meet her. I lift her up into my arms, breathing in her scent to calm me down. I hear Jeremiah chuckle in the background, still in the car, and I make a mental note to punch him later.

“Woah there big guy.” She says breathlessly. “I like to breathe too.” I must have been squeezing too hard. Letting her down I brush the hair from her face and take in her appearance. Her eyes are red which brings a pang of sadness and anger to my heart. I am guessing stalling her sister didn’t go well. She changed into a pair of blue jeans, boots and a black sweater that somewhat matches mine. I wonder if she planned that or it was just her subconscious making choices that reminded her of me. I hope it was the latter. She has a backpack with her.

I cup her face in my hands, ”What took you so long?” I nearly growl out, my wolf is so close to the surface. I usually have him under such tight control and able to push him to the recesses of my mind but when it comes to Mia, he is practically sitting on the passenger side in my brain.

“My sister and I had a fight.” She looks down guilty. “And then I had to wait for her and her new mate to go to her room to be able to sneak out.”

I put my finger under her chin and lift up until we are eye to eye. What I would do to erase the sadness in them. “Why don’t we get in the car and talk about it on the way home?” I suggest.

She swallows nervously at my use of home but nods. I understand why. This is her home. The land we stand on is the only home she has ever known. She is leaving it all because she trusts me already. My chest swells with that thought and I can’t stop myself when I take her backpack from her and pick her up bridal style to carry her to the car. She lets out a surprised gasp but quickly puts her head on my chest for the rest of the short walk to the car. I place her in her seat and buckle her in and then go around the climb into the other side.

Jeremiah fires up the engine and takes off. The drive will take about four hours and even though my beta is in the car with us, I’m tempted to pull Mia into my lap and kiss her senseless. The kiss in her bedroom was unforgettable. I felt like I could explode afterwards and now that I know what it feels like, I’m craving her more. She tasted sweet like vanilla and honey and if her sister hadn’t been coming up the stairs I would have climbed right back into her room from the window, pressed her up against her bedroom door, gotten on my knees for her and licked that sweet tight p***y until she screamed. I’d throw one of her legs over my shoulder and run my tongue up her tattoo all the way to her c**t. My tongue moving up from her opening to c**t before I suck it into my mouth. I’d do that over and over again until she’s begging for more. My tongue would move in circles around her c**t until she’s dripping down my face and pulling my head towards her needy p***y. Then I’ll know she’s ready for my fingers to f**k her. I’d move my hands up her thighs and to her tight opening, sliding my fingers across her soaking cunt just to tease her. Then my fingers will slide in, pumping in and out slowly at first just to get her used to the intrusion and then faster once I find her g-spot. I want to hear her scream, I need it. I’m going to make her come on my face, c**k, and fingers everyday for the rest of our lives.

My c**k is so hard it feels like it’s about to punch through the zipper on my jeans. I try to adjust myself subtly and look over to Mia. She’s gazing out the window, watching her childhood home go by. Guilt over taking her away and thinking like a horny teenager while she’s in pain washes over me.

I reach over to grab her hand on the car seat. I will never get enough of these sparks. She flinches but doesn’t turn. I draw circles with my thumb on the back of her hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

She’s quiet for a moment and then sighs. “My sister found her mate tonight. I am so happy for her but her mate also happens to be my ex-boyfriend’s brother-in-law.”

I stay silent, trying to contain the growl building at hearing she had dated someone seriously enough to call a boyfriend.

She continues to explain, “He and I dated for about a year and he was convinced we were mates.”

“And you weren’t?” I question, a little too happily.

“At the time I thought maybe we could be, but looking back, I never fully felt like myself around him. He wanted to fit me into what he wanted as a mate, rather than accept me for who I am.” She looks at me a bit shyly. “Sorry, I’m probably oversharing.”

I lean over to cup her chin. “That’s what mates are for, little wolf.”

She blushes and lifts her head away but keeps going. “Anyways, we were at the mating ball last year and found out we weren’t mates. It was disappointing but when he found his actual mate the same night, right in front of me…… I don’t know, it broke me a little. I guess after all that drama Dana thinks this last year was just all about “me, me, me””, she puts the last part in air quotes.

I continue to rub her hand and let her continue. She seems like she needs to vent.

“My sister said my disappearance from the ball tonight had my parents freaking out and that I stole her special moment. My parents thought the Rogue Alpha kidnapped me or something.” she chuckles. She doesn’t realize it yet but in a way, her parents were right.

One thing burns in the back of my mind and I have to ask. “Do you still have feelings for him?” I ask, holding back my rage. She’s already mine and I will not share her affections with anyone.

“What? For Jackson? Goddess no. Any love for him has been long gone.”

“Are you sure?” I press. “If you would rather be with him, we can turn around right now.” I grind out.

She looks at me with a pained look but quickly masks it and amusingly says, “I’m here, aren’t I? Despite your mysterious and vague answers to why it is unsafe here….” She trails off, trying to coax a response out of me. This isn’t the right place though. For her to understand and be open to my mission, I need her to know me, to love me and most importantly for her to realize that the rumors of the Rogue Alpha and his band of misfits are lies. My father is many things and while wicked to his core, no one can say he is dumb. Taking the opportunity to blame me for these missing teenagers when it’s all his doing was an act of evil genius. Not that he knows the rogue alpha is me, he thinks I’m dead.

When Mia told me that the Rogue Alpha was being blamed for that, I nearly shifted then and there. I hate that I had to walk away from killing him tonight, but my mate is more important. The madness that I would devolve into if she got hurt in the crossfire of my attack on my father would be indescribable. I just hope my pack can forgive me for not sticking with the plan.

“I need a distraction.” Mia sighs. She leans her head back on the car seat and closes her eyes. Seeing her throat exposed and her chest breathing deeply up and down, I could think of a lot of ways to distract her. This mate bond is making me act like I’ve never even seen a woman before. If I had been a cruel leader, I would have told Jeremiah to shift and run all the way back to the packhouse just so I could be alone with Mia in the car. In the silence, I feast my eyes on her curves, her ample breast shown off in that tight sweater. I look away but I can picture them in my hands, my thumbs stroking her n*****s before my mouth descends on them to roll them in my teeth. I shake the thoughts away and clear my throat.

“What’s your favorite story in Greek mythology?” I ask, recalling the contents of her bedroom.

She snaps her head towards me in shock. Surprising her has become my new favorite pastime.

“Bookshelf?” she concludes. I simply nod. She looks sad for a moment. I’m sure it’s because she is thinking of all the books she left behind in her room. Little does she know I grabbed a few of the ones that looked the most worn, not to mention I have my own collection at the packhouse.

“Um, I don’t know. It’s like picking a favorite candy or song. It depends on the day. But generally, I’d say the story of Prometheus.” She states.

I smile. Maybe she’ll be more open about my mission than I thought. If she likes a story about a rebellious do-gooder, maybe she’ll understand my goals. I’m probably reaching and reading into her answer.

I pry more, secretly praying I will find the confirmation of my hopes. “What exactly do you like about that story?”

“I’ve always liked the irony in Greek mythology. They talk about how humans are so flawed and vain and need to be punished like in the story of Athena and Arachne. But the gods are the ones that are so flawed. Not that Prometheus was perfect or anything, but he just wanted to help the humans.”

I elaborate on her reasoning, “Trying to do what he thought was right despite the danger and wrath of the gods.“

“Yeah, exactly.” She looks at me suspiciously, like she is trying to unravel a deeper meaning to my answer. Just like I was doing to her.

“What about you?” She asks.

I know my answer right away. “The story of King Sisyphus.”

“Ahh, a man who likes cruel justice.”

“It’s not cruel if they deserved it.”

“Touche.”We sit in comfortable silence but soon my mind slips into my own personal abyss as I recall the first time I read that particular story.

My father likes to think of himself as a God, all powerful, vengeful and savage in their punishments. In between his torture sessions on me, he allowed me to read the endless tragedies of heroes who disobeyed the Gods.The physical torture wasn’t enough for him, he wanted my mind suffer as well and by providing stories like these, he manipulated me into believing I must have deserved these jagged scars down my back. However, he didn’t care enough about me to curate all the stories I read.

I was in my room, if you could even call the musty mold-covered closet a room, and I heard the latch from the lock outside the door open. I backed myself as far into the corner as I could. I was a small seven year old thanks to years of abuse and malnutrition but still I could not hide in that tiny room. The door was pulled open roughly and the doorway filled with the sight of my father and one of his many unwilling concubines. He pulled on the string attached to the flickering light on the ceiling and illuminated the small space. Without even looking at me, he threw her in the small closet and chucked a book at my head. I was dazed for a second after the hit but came back to myself as he slammed the door shut. I touched the point of impact, feeling wetness. My shaking hand descended from my forehead, blood-covered. I don’t know why I was trembling, I shouldn’t have been surprised anymore by his violence. He had made me bleed in many ways.

Still looking at my quivering bloody fingers, a sleeve came across my line of vision and I flinched back. My eyes flew up to my new temporary roommate. I knew she wouldn't stay here for long. They never do. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but as I grew older and gathered more information, I surmised that my father used me as a punishment for women who didn’t…. perform as he wanted them. After a few days locked up with me they would get the option to cooperate and bend to his depraved s****l desires or face the consequences. If they choose the latter, I would hear screams reverberate off the walls outside my prison. The screams only lasted a few seconds before the silence overtook everything and sucked the warmth out of the air. None of my roommates ever returned to my closet.

She stared at me, her eyes filled with questions and kindness, something I rarely saw. She must have not been here long enough for my father to have broken her spirit. Most of my roommates had a glazed look in their eyes, like they refused to react to what was happening to them out of self-preservation.

She reached for my face again to wipe the blood off, and this time I let her. Once she cleaned me up, she gave me a sad smile and picked up the book. Her blonde hair, dark with filth, fell into her face as she looked at the book cover. Zeus was posed in front, lightning illustrated all around him. She opened it and began looking through the stories, her hand with the blood soaked sleeve flipping through the pages and leaving a light trail. She noticed and pulled her sleeve up. Without any preface, she began reading the story of King Sisyphus, a tryantical monster who killed for fun. He killed without rhyme or reason, simply just to show his power. He cheated death twice which angered the Gods. When he finally did die, they punished him by making him push a boulder up a hill for all eternity. Cruel Justice.

Like King Sisyphus, my father cheated death tonight. I will not let him do it again. While I can’t control his afterlife, I will make damn sure his last dying moments feel like hell.

I feel a hand touch my back and the visions of my past dissolve into my present. Immediately, my strained muscles relax.

“Are you alright?” Mia’s eyes are filled with concern and sympathy. She must have sensed my shift in behavior.

I clear my throat and stretch out my back, releasing the last bit of stress. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just not a fan of being cooped up in a car for so long.” Not a complete lie. Spending so much time in that closet has made me slightly claustrophobic.

“I know the feeling.” Mia says quietly while wistfully looking out the window. She is rubbing her hand up and down my back, already subconsciously trying to comfort me. Thankfully I have enough layers on that she can’t feel my scars through my clothes.

As she moves her hand up, I grab it once it is in reach and move it to my mouth. I feel her arm tense for a second as she looks back at me. Her breathing hitches as I place a tender kiss upon her knuckles. Like a slideshow, in her eyes flicker a look of surprise, curiosity, and then something else I can’t quite read. Possibly lust by the way the car is filling with her scent. My wolf takes over momentarily, possessiveness seeping into my actions. I swiftly move to unclip her seatbelt and pull her to me. Buckling her into the middle seat, I then wrap an arm around her small shoulders. She nestles into my chest. She’s so trusting. I wonder if she has never had anything truly awful happen to her that makes her so trusting or if the mate bond is to thank.

As she cuddles in closer to me, Mia lets out an adorable yawn. I look at the dashboard clock to see it is just past 3:00 am. Running my fingers through the curls at the end of her hair, I softly say. “We have about three hours left until we arrive. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

She doesn’t say anything so I look down to peer at her angelic face. Her eyes are already closed. I smile and continue to stroke her hair. Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head and breath deeply, reveling in her scent. My eyes flicker up to the rear view mirror in the front seat and see Jeremiah’s eyes filled with amusement and his head moving slightly up and down, trying to conceal a laugh.

“Not a word.” I say sternly. He is still stifling a laugh. Even through my mild annoyance with him, I can’t hold back my smile. I have my mate and we’re going home.