**** Alyssa **** Apparently, today is my first day as my husband’s assistant. While I am not looking forward to being within close proximity to him the whole day, I sure am looking forward to the chance to locate the information I need to plan a better escape. His confusing behavior yesterday perplexed me further when, after dinner, he brought me chocolates and told me he wanted me to work directly with him today AND that his mother had been impressed with my notes. I’m not sure if I was more confused that he kept saying nice things to me, or that his mother suddenly seemed to know I existed, or if it was that the chocolates were the same type as the ones that mysteriously appeared in my room once a week since my arrival. What does that even mean? Either way, I’m more determined than ever to get out of here before my brain melts. Luckily, he also gave me my laptop back, and I spent half the night on the internet watching lock-picking videos. It took me a couple of hours of fiddling
**** Enzi **** A few days earlier… “You need to do something about that girl,” my mother said as she entered my office without an invitation — not that I cared since my mother has always been my biggest supporter, well, her and my brother. What bothered me was that I didn’t even hear my mother opening my office door. I was losing my touch as I let my emotions cloud my senses. “I’m working on it,” I replied, rubbing my temples. Goddess, this… girl… would be the death of me. I love her so much. She is fucking infuriating and perfect at the same time! I wish I could spoil her. Urgh! “I’m going crazy,” I admitted. There are only a few people in the world that I could safely be vulnerable in front of, and one of them is my mom. For the pack, I always had to be the strong Alpha since no one wanted to see me pining over a girl. I was being fucking pathetic, and I knew it. “Maybe you should just tell her,” my mother said. “I can’t do that,” I shot back. “Then maybe you should let her g
**** Alyssa **** Tomorrow is the night. I briefly reconsidered my plan to leave. Something in my guts told me I should stay for this birthday dinner and hear what he, along with everybody else, has to say. Enzi's been a jerk, but I know there's more to it; after all, he's implied there's a reason. Not that anything should excuse mistreating me to the extent he has, but I'm curious nonetheless. What could he possibly claim as an excuse? More than that, he's been weirdly nice lately. And he's been staring at me, almost lovingly, definitely lustfully. What's up with that? Frankly, it freaks me out to find myself drawn to him. The man is a mystery wrapped in a conundrum buried in an enigma with a steaming pile of crazy poop on top, and I just can't figure him out. I know there's something more going on, and I really want to trust that things might be starting to look up for me. Maybe, perhaps, there is a chance that my situation here will get better, that I'll be able to make a life here
**** Alyssa **** As I approach the bridge, I release my seatbelt and plant my foot again, aiming for the railing two-thirds of the way across the bridge. Just as the car is about to crash through the barrier, I shove the door wide open and leap, rolling further from the vehicle as I painfully hit the hard ground. Hearing the crunch as the car collides with the metal, I flip over and watch as the car does exactly as I hoped. The inertia pushed it through the old railing and off the side of the bridge. It plummets to the river below, ending in a loud splash. I pull my bruised, scrapped, and aching self up and push on; if they see me, the whole trick is over. I need them to think I lost control of the car and went down with it or deliberately chose to crash and go over. Either way, I want them to think I'm gone. I need them to think I'm gone. After my last escape attempt, I told him I'd rather die than continue living with him. That conversation replayed in my mind many times over, and
**** Alyssa **** “Are you alright, love? Do you need some help? Do you need me to call someone?” I can’t imagine what the clerk here must think. I am covered in scratches, bruises, grazes, and mud, there are even twigs and other debris in my hair. “Oh, umm. I’m fine, thank you,” I smile what I hope is an innocent smile. She bags my hair dye, scissors, ugly ball cap, and sunglasses. I even found colored contact lenses. Add duct tape and a shovel, I’d look like I was planning a revenge killing. “You’re running away?” “Fancy dress party,” I reply lamely with another half-ass smile. Even I don’t believe me. “There’s a shelter on 29th street. They’ll help you get on your feet,” the clerk replies. I’m dumbfounded for a moment as I haven’t considered a shelter. After gaping like a goldfish out of water for a moment, she adds, “They won’t make you go home. You’ll be safe.” “Thank you! You don’t know how much that means to me.” She gives me a warm smile. I thought people would jud
**** Alyssa **** It is the next morning, and in my barely awakened and drowsy state, it takes me a few moments to register where I am. This bed is comfortable enough, but my bed in Enzi’s pack was super comfortable. Well, it was physically comfortable anyway, a cloud of perfectness with soft, luxurious bedding. The problem was the man and his mission to break me. He nearly succeeded until I remembered I’m way too stubborn for that. I make my bed, dress in my new outfit, find something for breakfast, and try to figure out what to do with my life. I want to do something that helps people, maybe work in a school, become a counselor, maybe be a lawyer or a doctor is my calling. I can’t get a job without ID, and I can’t go to school without ID. That’s my first problem. Could I find a good printer somewhere and print myself a birth certificate? That sounded like a good way to end up in jail for identity theft. What kind of jobs hire people with no ID and no experience? Criminals. Striper
3 years later…. ****Alyssa**** “Hey beautiful, I was thinking we should get a hotel room tonight?” my friend Nathan says, interrupting my train of thought. Nathan is a bartender here as well as Luke’s assistant manager. I’m getting a few last-minute things done while I wait for our friends to arrive. “Really?” I say, feigning a frown. “We’re not going to be out that late.” I continue wiping down the bar, assuming a disinterested air. Nathan is quite possibly the sweetest person I ever met; actually, he always reminded me of my friend Jay from back home. It always makes my heart hurt thinking of the friends I left behind. Nathan and Jay are the kind of people you instantly know you’ll be friends with forever. Still, I can’t resist teasing Nathan a little. “Oh, hun, you told me you didn’t have a party for your 18th, or for your 21st, and last year for your 23rd birthday, we went out to dinner. Dinner!? How dull!” “It was a lovely dinner,” I sing, now stacking glasses behind the ba
**** Alyssa **** When the Uber pulls up in front of the club, I’m surprised to see the line of about a dozen people and more surprised when Emily confidently walks right past it. Leaning up on her tippy toes, she grabs the bouncer’s tie, pulling his ear to her mouth. Whatever she says, does the trick as he smiles, unclips the obnoxious red velvet rope, and waves us through the doors behind him. I’m not sure I want to know what the spicy little vampire just promised him. Clubs aren’t really my thing. They are loud and full of sweaty, handsy people. I don’t mind a bit of dancing, and I’d probably enjoy it if it weren’t for the headache-producing strobe lights, men that think it’s ok to randomly grab and grind on me, or the deafening way they play music. I follow my friends, feeling more anxious with each step. There are some seats and a few stools at the bar, but mostly it’s standing room around small tables or just randomly anywhere in the packed open room. Where will we put our