GABE
Walking into my bar and pushing open the heavy metal door, heading straight to the back corner of the old drinking house. Noticing, and not for the first time, that the place could do with a major facelift. The dirty, scuffed blue walls and patched-up leather booths of the Rising Moon had seen better days.
Jamerson and Killian were huddled up, heads down, looking at a file, seemingly deep in discussion.
They looked up, startled when I dropped the two duffle bags of cash onto the table in front of them with a loud thud.
“All taken care of?” Jamerson asks while leaning over to unzip the bags and peeking in.
“Yep,” I reply, watching him thumb the bills.
“Is this all of it, the full amount?” His raised eyebrow made me smirk.
“Yes brother, with extra for our troubles. Have the boys run it through the counter. If they are a dollar short of 400k, I want to know.” My eyebrows pinch together at the thought of them even trying to cheat us out of a deal. It would be a stupid move and a terrible mistake on their part. I was not opposed to taking their lives.
The deal was for 400k, and I would not accept a penny less for cleaning up the Gamma's own mistake.
I watch Jamerson sit back, and his eyes go misty, obviously mind-linking for one of the boys to come and take the bags of money and have them counted.
Within seconds, one of our Zeta’s, Nate, a big strapping lad, who had the women swooning for his blond hair and crystal blue eyes, had come in and picked up the bags.
“Nate!” I called as he turned and almost made it through the door, holding a bag in each hand. “You know the deal, no one else in the counting room, except you and Jared.” I pointed and gave him a warning look.
“Yes Alpha, of course.” He said before he exited the bar area to the counting room where the cash would be counted, recorded, split fifty percent to the house, and then the rest divided up between the Zeta loyalists.
Nate was a Renegade through and through. Loyal, tough, and like us, didn’t believe in the current laws of how packs ran.
We, The Renegades, were looked down on by packs. Seen as less than nothing but rogues. Tyrants and mercenaries.
Muscle for hire.
Sure, we were rough, loyal only to ourselves, and made money off other people’s problems and feuds. Yet still, we had a higher moral than most of these godforsaken packs that were more concerned with power, money, and self-preservation. They were greedy, cruel, and took care of themselves first at the expense of their pack members. They were pawns in the higher rank’s greed, and they were treated just as much.
You would often see lesser wolves, treated like a slave, abused and used.
That was of no concern to us. We were there for the job. We had our own pack to take care of. The Renegades. And we had our own set of rules.
You would never see us mistreat one of our brothers and sisters. We were all here for the same reason.
Because we wouldn’t conform to the norm. We refused to follow the rules. The majority of us had left packs of our own accord, but there were some that had been banished.
Then there was me.
The Alpha, who left his own family and pack like lambs for the slaughter. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical way.
“Hey boss, check this out.” Killian slid the file over the table to me. “New client, John Doe, of the Clawed Wolf Pack, not rank but an Elite in society, some big wig banker guy. He wants to use our services for a rescue operation. His son is being held for ransom until his father pays his gambling debts.”
I opened the file to see a picture of the sniveling banker's son, who looks equally pretentious.
“What’s he paying us?” I cocked an eyebrow at Killian.
“Eight hundred large” He replies with a smirk.
“What’s the ransom?”
“One point two mil. But it’s an easy as shit job.” Killian chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair, his blue eyes narrowing with his growing smile.
“How so?” I ask, knowing his answer is somehow going to be ridiculous.
“Cuz its Dynamite Al, he owes the money too.” He chuckles.
“I already called him,” Jamerson interjected. “Told him the stitch, said he could either get a kickback of four hundred K, or nothing. He took the kickback.”
“Smart man.” I approved. Even though Dynamite Al was out by quite a bit of money, he knew his choices. We had done business many times.
Either take what we offer, or we fuck you up. Worse we feed you to the fish. We are known for completing the job we are hired to do. Without prejudice.
“So how are we handling this?” I now look at Jamerson, my right-hand man.
“We are going to accept the contract. Dynamite Al is gonna hold the little prick for a day or two, and rough him up a bit more to make it look good. Then, we will play the heroes and sweep in, saving the pretentious little prick.”
“Easy money,” Added Killian.
Easy money indeed, I thought. However, Al sent a lot of business our way and I didn’t want to piss him off and lose him as a client.
“Let Mr. Doe know this is a one-time job. The next time his son gets in debt, they are gonna have to pay it off. I ain’t losing Al as a client, just cuz some high-ranking pack member wants to save a buck. The kid should take care of his own debt.” With a stern look, I let it be known that I wasn’t fucking around.
I left Jamerson and Killian sitting downstairs in the bar to finish business and headed upstairs to my apartment which sat above the establishment.
I had access to my second-story, three-bedroom dwelling either through the back of the bar, or there was a staircase outside that led up to another entrance.
Like the bar, my apartment could do with an upgrade. The dirty brown walls were depressing and uninviting and the decades old leather couch had seen better days, but still more comfortable than the broken spring bed I only used to fuck in.
I threw my boots by the door and began peeling my clothes off as I walked to the bathroom, tossing the discarded garments as I went, in desperate need of a shower.
It would be nice to have hot water, but today I welcomed the iciness. The refreshing and cool stream eases the tension from a hard, hot summer day of work.
Work equaling, beating the shit out of some immoral shifters. My cracked knuckles had already healed and just slight bruising that would soon be gone was left.
I washed the dirt from my dark brown hair and stood under the stream for a few moments longer before switching the shower off, wrapping a towel around my waist, and going back to my couch.
I flopped down, grabbing the half-empty bottle of… whiskey, I realized after taking a pull from the bottle.
After downing, almost the rest of the bottle, my body felt more relaxed, and my mind began simmering down.
If only I could nap for a few hours before the bar opened, and the music and patrons kept me busy. I resolved to drink the rest of the bottle while staring at the yellow ceiling. My mind fills with the faces of wolves I turned my back on. The most prominent faces are my parents.
I groan as the all too familiar feeling of guilt starts twisting my stomach but is quickly replaced with complacency.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy with my actions, I did what I had to do. I may feel guilt wash over me now and then but never mistake it for remorse. I will never regret the day I walked out of my pack, turning my back on them.
My sister was alive and free to make her own choices. That’s what mattered.
“Argh” I groaned out loudly. I hated it when my brain decided to overthink. This is what happens when I’m left on my own with nothing to occupy me.
*Jamerson, send me up a good time girl, will ya?* I pushed open a mind link with him and waited for his response.
*Sue thing Alpha, anyone particular?* I could hear the smirk in his voice.
*Anyone but Cassidy* I sighed.
I had enjoyed my time with Cassidy, I found her satisfactory but that was all it was. No strings.
Good time girls were just that. A good time. They were bar flies who hung around our Zeta’s, passed around to whoever wanted to fuck them. They were not pack members and never would be unless they mated with one of us.
On more nights than one, good time girls have been shared with two or more Zeta’s.
Always with their consent.
Except Cassidy stepped over the line, made herself out to be something more than what she was. She tried climbing the rank ladder, wanting a relationship with me.
I cut her off right there and then when her jealousy flared because I fucked another GT girl. A silly notion in her head that I would claim her and had the gall to tell other GT girls that I was going to.
I scoff at the thought. I would never claim anyone. Unless it was my true mate. I scoff again. The chances of finding a true mate in this day and age were like finding a needle in a haystack. Virtually impossible, unless the stars were perfectly aligned just right for you.
GABE A knock on the door had me pulling from my thoughts and it was welcoming. I needed a distraction. Thinking about the past always grated at my nerves building up the anger that always simmered on the surface. “Doors open” I called out, not bothering to move from my horizontal position. “Alpha, Jamerson said you wanted to see me?” The sweet voice carried through the stark and drab apartment. The owner of the voice, Bailey, walked around the other side of the couch and now stood before me in a short black skirt and dark grey tank top. Her feet were clad with heels at least 4 inches high, giving the petite raven-haired beauty some height. I nodded to her, while my eyes traveled from head to toe and back up again. Her chocolate-colored eyes sparkled with excitement, yet her hands fiddled together nervously. Her large tits stretched the fabric of her top, and her skirt came just below her ass cheeks, leaving little to the imagination. “I did,” I said with a cool tone, while stil
STIXGrowing up, I lived carefree, thinking I would be in charge of my life when I became an adult.Oh, how wrong I was.I had everything I ever wanted, needed, or desired. I only realized after I had turned eighteen and was thrust into the world of adulthood how utterly stupid it was of me, to think I could live my life the way I wanted under my father’s protection. Even some things were out of his control.I wasn’t an idiot; I just chose to be ignorant. Ignorant to the fact that as an Alpha born female, I had no choices. We weren’t free to find a fated, not that that happens very often.Finding your fated mate that some goddess supposedly made just for you, they were a rare case, if there were any at all in the past century. Nor were we free to fall in love with a chosen, because as soon as that happened, some nasty Alpha would come to lay claim to you and threaten the lives of your pack members if you didn’t bow your head and submit to their demands.I say females born to Alpha’s,
STIX I headed down to the arena to meet up with other pack members who were trained fighters. We were one of the few packs that allowed females to train. My mother, bless her soul, believed a she-wolf could defend her pack just as well as any male. My father always said that was one of many reasons he fell in love with her. For her strength, beauty, and kindness but above all for her quick-witted tongue, which, he reminded me every day that I got from her. That and my sassy attitude. Unfortunately, it was that fearlessness and her mouth that got her killed, probably. I was fourteen when she was attacked. One of the rare days she ventured out by herself to the market. On her way home she was murdered. Nobody saw, nobody knows what happened. They heard shouting, then the growl of wolves, by the time anyone could come to her aid it was all over. The assailants had fled. Leaving her body limp and bleeding out. They had clawed her throat open. My father took it hard, any mate would. L
GABEThe bar was hopping tonight, more crowded for a weekday night than usual.Jamerson had informed us that we had business meetings tonight, and the Gammas shit for brain son was being returned to him tomorrow morning, all limbs attached; After we let Dynamite Al teach him a lesson.My session with Bailey last night left me feeling somewhat relaxed, or at least relieving some of my constant tension.I finished changing a keg and went to sit with Jamerson at ‘our’ table. He was nursing a whisky; one we had distilled ourselves and sold to numerous other establishments and some surrounding packs.It wasn’t unusual for us to do business with packs, not just supply them with our products but also our more aggressive services. Especially to those weaker packs who required reinforcements when they were attacked by true rogues.We never took sides. Only the color of money determined what side our services would support. They all knew it was nothing personal. Just business.“Quiet a night, h
GABEThe man, an obvious Alpha; stood tall and proud looking around the bar flanked by his two men, I took note that one had a Beta aura, and the other was a guard. His eyes landed on me, and I lifted my glass and downed the liquid in one go, still holding eye contact.Two of my men stood up blocking the Alpha’s path to me. This was either going to be a shit show or the Alpha wanted something.By the look of desperation written all over his face, I was guessing the latter.*Let him through* I linked my men. I would praise them later for doing their job, as I had told no one we were expecting a meeting with an Alpha. Curious eyes from the bar were all trained on the unknown Alpha, and I could see my Zeta’s stiffen, ready to fight if needed.The Alpha was unknown to me, not one I had previously encountered. The older man stepped forward closing in on our table, his men close behind him, constantly looking around watching their Alpha’s six.Good loyal men, who were all dressed nice, too n
STIXSMy father came back late into the night, two days after he had left. I stayed up waiting for him, pacing the front of the pack house like a possessed cat. Ready to pounce as soon as he steps out of the car or through the door, and demand answers from him. I hate being left in the dark and not knowing what is going on.Finally, around 2 am his car pulls up. He, Beta Branston, and two of his top warriors exit the vehicle. He looks tired and worried, and I detect a little edginess in him. Heightening my curiosity at where he might have been even more.“Pops,” I call out to him as he tells his men goodnight. I stood there with my hands on my hips and an accusatory look on my face. “Where have you been?” I glare at him when he acknowledges me.“Tomorrow, Hope. Let’s talk tomorrow. This old man is too tired tonight.” He says while hooking an arm around my shoulder and leading me back into the pack house.I knew he was tired; I wasn’t an idiot. I could see the dark circles under his ful
STIXI glanced towards my father who was wearing a sheepish look. Yeah, he should have talked to me last night. “You can call me Stix’s” I reply coolly, taking his large hand and feeling the warmth from it. I expected him to show dominance and grip me, instead, his large thumb stroked the back of my small hand in a flirtatious kind of way.My stomach flutters as this handsome man locks his deep blue orbs with mine. He was easy on the eyes, confident and built, and a good foot plus taller than me. His blue-washed jeans hugged his thighs and his white shirt stretched across his arms tightly showing off his toned muscles. The black vest he wore donned the skull of a wolf with crossbones.I furrowed my eyes, trying to think where I had seen that image before.“Stixs? That’s unusual,” The blond hunk chuckles.“She was given that nickname as a kid, it stuck.” My father laughs along with him but for a different reason.Stixs was the name my mother had given to me because I didn’t take any st
GABEKillian had come back last night after spending a day at the Raven Knights' pack. I’m sitting in the usual booth waiting for him to grace me with his presence. I would have had a sit-down last night, but he didn’t pull into town until the early hours of the morning, saying he needed sleep and attention. Making a point to say ‘attention first then sleep’.The Raven Knights pack was a good day’s drive from here, so he had been gone almost three days.I watch my sister dry and shelve glasses, preparing to open this afternoon. I smile to myself knowing the bar gives her purpose and insanely keeps her sane.“I can feel your eyes on me, Gabe!” She shouts with her back turned to me. “Why?” She questions still putting up glasses.“It's because big bro loves you to death,” Jamerson says walking in through the back of the bar and leaning over the end of the counter.I let out a low growl when I see the way my best friend's eyes roam over my sister. *Whatever you are thinking… I’ll kill you.