SOMEWHERE A rough-looking man entered the corner store in , his very presence causing a ripple of discomfort among the customers. His clothes were filthy, and the overpowering stench of dirt, smoke, and alcohol surrounded him like an invisible cloud. He walked with a slow, deliberate gait, his eyes scanning the shelves for his usual poison.Reaching the alcohol section, he grabbed a few bottles of the cheapest liquor available. As he made his way to the counter, he ignored the whispers and disgusted looks thrown his way. The cashier, a young woman with dark circles under her eyes, looked up and visibly recoiled. She quickly composed herself, though the disdain never left her eyes.“Just these,” the man grunted, his voice a gravelly rasp that seemed to echo his rough exterior.“That’ll be twenty-five bucks,” the cashier said, trying to maintain a professional tone despite her obvious discomfort.The man pulled out a crumpled wad of cash from his pocket, peeling off bills and slapping
Jefferson stood there for a moment, watching the mysterious woman disappear into the distance. The weight of what she just said began to sink in, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling exposed in the street. The gravity of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. Did she know who his benefactor is?Of course she would know, else she wouldn't have threatened him with it.He hurried the remaining distance to his apartment and basically ran into building, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the grimy walls of the narrow hallway. Reaching his door, he fumbled with the keys, finally managing to unlock it and slip inside. He leaned against the door, trying to steady his breathing. Jefferson’s apartment was a cluttered mess, reflecting the chaos of his life. He dumped the paper bag of alcohol on the small kitchen table and paced the room, the woman's words replaying in his mind. His benefactor withdrawing support meant he would be on
"…I promise to give my all to this Pack and make it the best in the country, the goddess be my witness. Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming and do have a lovely night." Damon, my mate and the Alpha of our pack ends his heartfelt speech and bows to the audience.The revving claps and cheers go on for minutes after he gets off the podium and returns to my side. He has the warmest smile while he waves and shakes the people around our table. But when he takes his seat next to me, I feel that terrifying, chilly aura around him. It makes my blood curdle.He leans in casually, placing a kiss on my lips. Then he rubs a finger over the spot that supposedly smudged. His eyes go from warm to vicious, and then he discreetly stomps on my toe under the table.I swallow my gasp, as his cold eyes still have me in chains. "Try not to look so sickly pale, honey. This isn’t a goddamn funeral." His voice is icy, and then he coats it with a facetious smile.A huge lump cloaks my throat
The voices and the disgusting skin slaps get louder with each ticking second. I’m yet to wrap my head around the heart-shattering reality glaring at me at the moment. I glance at the door, really considering going in, not because I wanna confront Damon, but because I wanna see for myself that it isn’t my best friend, Penelope in there with him. The voice may sound like hers but I wanna believe it’s not. It shouldn’t be. It can't be. She’s not capable of hurting me like this."I can't believe Anastasia used to have such a sweet dick all to herself. She’s such a greedy bore," the female voice moans out again, and it’s not helping that she’s sounding more and more like Penelope in every word she says.Like to give me the confirmation I need, Damon grunts. "I can’t believe such a hottie like you is her best friend either. Like, how do you put up with her boring ass?"It is Penelope. With that realization comes a painful wreck of my heart. I break down into heavy sobs, crashing against t
I am taken aback by his words. He’s back to drinking his whisky but I’m still frozen. Tears are falling again. I stand, ready to run off but he grabs my hand with a strong grip."Let me take you home."I tug at my hand but his big hand has it securely trapped. He steps closer, forcing his scent on me, assaulting me with it. I'm beginning to think he does that intentionally like he knows the effect he has on me and he's feeding off it."I came in my car," I reply, hoping that’ll convince him to let me go. He’s silent for seconds and it makes me wonder what he’s thinking. I can't look at him though, not with these tears in my eyes."Leave the car here. I'll have someone come pick it up tomorrow. Besides, you're kinda tipsy. It’s not safe driving in such a state."I hate that he’s right. I hate even more that I’m considering his offer. But then again. I don’t wanna be close to him. Not tonight. Not in my broken state. I fear the outcome of it."Let's go." He holds my shoulders, ignoring
Two weeks have passed in a blur, and my life is back to being sad, boring, and miserable. Damon is barely around, as he seems to be spending most of his time with Penelope. I see her texting him endlessly about their upcoming vacations, dinner dates, shopping sprees, and the amazing sex they commemorate their days with.As much as it yanks my heart into shreds, I still can't bring myself to confront Damon about it. Having a one-night stand with his father rid me of the right to confront him because I feel just as guilty. I can't confront Penelope either. I love that girl to bits and I fear I may just break down to tears if I do go to meet her. Because no matter how badly she’s hurt me, I still have a massive soft spot for her. It’s stupid of me but it’s there, just for her.So yeah, I’m bottling up the guilt, pain, heartbreak, and agony. I try not to spend much time alone as it always makes me backpedal into conjuring the images of the night I spent with Victor. I end up touching myse
His order sends my brain into overdrive. “What is wrong with you?” I frantically dry off my tears. “I'm not going to do that just because you asked me to. What If Damon sees us” He gives me a blank stare. “I'm sorry do I look like I give two fucks” I give his expression a once over. “No, you don't.” “Are you taking it off or should I do you the honors?” He closes the space between us and gently rubs his thumbs on my cheeks, drawing circles that make me have sinful thoughts. He moves his thumb to my lips, as if trying to wipe my lipstick off. I slowly close my eyes and lean into his touch, enjoying the peace and feelings the simple action gives me. I open my eyes when I feel his breath on my face. I wait for it. The kiss. But of course he takes his time, torturing me when I decide to give in. “Enjoy the party” Like a lightening, Damon's voice from outside the kitchen breaks the tension and feelings in the air. The embarrassment and fear hits harder, I can almost hear myself lose
As I approached Damon, a sense of apprehension gnawed at my insides, my steps hesitant and cautious. His usually composed and aloof demeanor is now twisted into a mask of fury and rage, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. Before I can even utter a word, his hand collides with my cheek in a stinging slap, the force of the blow sending shockwaves of pain radiating through my skull. I stumble backward, my vision swimming with tears as I struggled to comprehend the sudden onslaught of violence. But Damon isn't finished yet. With a strong grip on the collar of my dress, he yanks me towards him, his face so close to mine that I could smell his breath, it reeks of alcohol and bitterness. It is then that I realize he's drunk, his senses clouded all the alcohol he took. As he glares down at me with a mixture of what seems like contempt and disdain, a very sickening realization dawns upon me. Penelope, of course it has to be Penelope. That scheming biatch.