Filed to story: Wolf Crying Mate of the Alpha by Jazz Ford
After covering myself in mud the chase is over; with Ryker scentless and directionless, I know I am safe. I pass the street the diner is in and make my way home. I’m an hour late and I pray Dad is passed out drunk or asleep. I open the front door slowly, and cringe with every creaking noise. No lights are on; hopefully this means he is asleep. I carefully pad upstairs and open my bedroom door; with my light on I see Dad sitting on the end of my bed with a furious look on his face.
‘Dad. I’m sorry. I can explain.’ He stands, grabs me by the hair and throws me to the ground. He pummels kicks into my abdomen and legs continuously.
‘Not only did you come home late, but you’re covered in mud, and you’ve dragged it through my house!’ He screams. I try to shield myself with my arms from the blows to no avail. I cry out in pain with every strike, every kick and every punch. I curl up into a ball until I am finally freed from the onslaught with welcome unconsciousness.
There is not an inch of my body that does not ache; I’ve spent the whole day being as still as I possibly can to let my body rest. By evening, I manage to find enough strength to run a small bath and wash the mud from my skin. Completely covered in bruises, my body is proof of the worst degree of abuse it has ever sustained. I hug my knees and cry for a while over the confrontation with Ryker last night, and the beating I got when I came home. Dad is going to kill me if he finds out about Ryker or about me not having a job. I wash the dishes and make some meals in the kitchen as best I can in my condition. I place them in the fridge; Dad should find them easily enough. Sometimes I think I won’t survive the next beating, but somehow, I always do. I return to my room and fall asleep within minutes.
The next day, I’m still in a lot of pain but have improved a little. I get dressed, brush my long brown hair and apply some makeup to hide the bruising on my face. Dad is expecting me to be at work but I can’t go back there; not after what happened the other night. I decide to go into town, a forty-five-minute walk from home, to apply for a new job. Not far from the diner, I notice the black Mercedes behind me. I’m not in the mood for this. I decide to confront the person in the car. I stand there making sure they know I’m waiting for them.
The car stops beside me and a rear window descends. A man of around forty-five with dark hair, and dark eyes, smiles in a kind way I’m not expecting. He has a weird scar near his ear; half his ear is missing. I can’t see the driver but the two guys in the back look to be around twenty.
‘Why are you following me?’ I ask.
‘Pardon my rudeness, young lady. My name is Zenith. I go to work this way every day and I always see you walking along this road alone. I’m just concerned someone might take advantage of you. I want to keep an eye out for you and make sure you’re safe,’ he explains.
‘Right. Well, the only thing that worries me out here is this car with you creepy people in it,’ I say.
‘You’re an unappreciative one, now, aren’t you?’ He says sternly.
‘Look, Zenith, if you don’t mind. I’ve had a really bad week. I need to get into town, so I’d appreciate it if you would stop following me and just let me be.’
‘What happened to your job at the diner?’ Zenith asks.
‘How do you know I worked there?’
‘I’ve seen you in there when I drive past on my way to work.’
‘Right.’ I turn to walk away.
‘Wait, take this.’ He hands me his business card.
I take it reading it, Zenith Creations CEO, accompanied with a contact number. I look at Zenith confused.
‘If you need a job, give me a call,’ he says.
‘Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ I say, handing the card back.
‘No, keep it. Just in case. I’ll see you around, Astrid.’ He gives me a wink before his window ascends, shielding him from view.
‘Hey!’ I yell as he drives off. ‘How did you know my name?’
I stand there watching the car drive further and further away. The diner is up ahead; I don’t want to walk past it, but there is no other road to take; the woods are the only other thing around. There are more cars at the diner than there usually would be.
A few of the same men I served the other night stand outside. They’re staring intently at me. One of them nods and another goes inside. I quicken my pace knowing Ryker might be with them. For a while, I am left unbothered, and I think this will be a non-event before Ryker is suddenly standing in front of me. You’ve got to be kidding me. How did he get here so quick? I step around him.
‘Astrid,’ he says. I keep walking and Ryker keeps pace with me. ‘Astrid,’ he repeats himself. I keep my head down and keep walking. He grabs my wrist, and I feel instant sparks fly between us just from his touch; the s****l tension is crazy.
‘Ryker! Let me go!’ I yell.
‘No. I looked for you all night when you ran off, and all day yesterday and today. We are going to the diner to talk,’ he says.
‘There is nothing to talk about!’ I say, trying to pull away.
Ryker grabs me by the waist and lifts me up over his shoulder. I cry out in pain from the injuries I sustained, so much so, tears fall from my face. Ryker quickly puts me back down.
‘What’s wrong?’ He asks.
‘Nothing, just please don’t touch me,’ I say. Ryker pushes my hoodie down.
‘Astrid. I need you to look at me, please,’ he pleads. He can see the bruises on my neck and chest.
I look into his blue eyes, my tears rolling down my cheeks. I don’t know why but I feel so ashamed of myself.
‘Oh, Astrid…’ he says, as he tries to gently wipe my tears from my cheek; I flinch and take a step back. I’m not used to his kindness at all.
‘Astrid, I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I say, looking away.
‘Can you please walk with me to the diner and let us talk?’ I nod and we head toward the diner.
At the diner, I don’t have a chance to open the door before one of Ryker’s men opens it for us.
‘Alpha,’ he says, nodding. Ryker walks in while I hesitate.
‘You worked here for almost a year and now you’re afraid to come in?’ Ryker says.
‘I’d prefer Jim didn’t see me like this,’ I explain. Ryker stares at me for a moment.
‘I’ll tell him to stay in the kitchen,’ he suggests. I hug my arms, nod and keep my head down.
A few moments later, I hear a ruckus of pots and pans falling, and Jim yelling ‘let me see her, damn it.’ Ryker is trying to hold Jim back; he is obviously very angry and distraught that I’ve been beaten again, and this time worse. I know Jim isn’t going to calm down anytime soon, so I take a deep breath and go in.
‘Jim, I don’t want you to see me like this; I’ve caused quite the commotion. I am so sorry,’ I say, standing at the kitchen bench, and looking at the mess of pots and pans on the floor. Jim stiffens at the sight of me. I’m glad the extent of my beatings is covered by my hoodie and jeans.
‘Astrid…’ Jim says, staring at me. His eyes well up, he steps toward me and I rescind; he frowns and looks away.
‘I’ll go get you some ice,’ he whispers, walking to the freezer. The other men in the diner are all staring at me, sympathising with me for my injuries.
I make it obvious I’m feeling uncomfortable by glaring at them; they all look away.
‘Astrid, come take a seat,’ Ryker says, walking to the diner door, flipping the OPEN sign, and locking the door with the key. I am worried.
‘It’s fine, Astrid. I just don’t want us to be interrupted. I’ll unlock the door when you’re ready to leave,’ he reassures me. I nod and sit at one of the tables with the booth seats. Ryker sits beside me. Jim passes me the ice pack without looking at me and returns to the kitchen.
‘Astrid, we need to discuss your living arrangements,’ he says.
‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ I reply.
‘Astrid, do you want him to kill you? Because looking at you in your current state, another beating before your eighteenth birthday, and you probably won’t survive,’ he observes.
‘Why would I not be able to survive another beating?’ I ask. All the men in the room are listening to our conversation intently.
‘She doesn’t know about us, or even believe me. Yet,’ he says. The men speak to eachother with knowing looks; unspoken words pass between them via their body language; I’m not privy to their thoughts.
Jim has made me a flat white coffee and some sandwiches. I’m so hungry. I eat slowly and carefully; the pain in my jaw makes it almost impossible, hence why I haven’t eaten in days.