Alpha Ever After

by Casey Morgan

  From his beer, Sandy finally let himself cry some more. Sob and curse the Axelrod name.

  “That’s all I need to hear. ‘Fireworks’ is a code word Carl’s used for years. For decades. He started using it when he was fifteen. For the July when he accidentally set something on fire because of misfiring a firework, but then got hooked on the power. The chaos it gave him the power to wield,” said Eric, disgusted with himself and with Carl in the same breath. “I know it’s not much consolation now, seeing as your business has already been reduced beyond salvaging, and you’ve lost untold amounts of priceless items and mementos, but I’m going to go to the police with what I know. I’m going to shed some light on behaviors of his. Crimes he perpetrated while in college, that are still unsolved.”

  Eric got up after that, every muscle in his body rippling with rage and conviction. Tossing his long, Chestnut hair behind his shoulders, he said, “He used to be a friend. He used to be someone I made excuses for. Believed he could change, but it seems like he’s even worse than I remembered. Which means he’s got to be stopped, and by someone who knows all of his dirty little secrets. And isn’t afraid of him.”

  Eric stopped toward the doors, making me hot and heavy in my center. Between my legs.

  “He wants money so badly? I’ll give him a taste of what money can do. Wads of it, when it’s rammed down his throat, used to hire the best private investigators to work alongside the police, that Love’s Hollow doesn’t even know it has the pleasure of being served by.”

  That said, Eric pushed out of the pub’s doors and stalked into the afternoon air.

  Alex and Travis watched him go, breathing impressed commentary into the space. “He’s Savage.” That was Travis.

  “He might be an organic snob, but he’s a free-range lion,” said Alex, grinning widely. “And there’s going to be farm-to-table blood tonight, boy!”

  David chuckled, turning to me. As he did, some of the mirth faded from his eyes and mouth. “Don’t worry, Gwendolyn. I know Eric will take care of it. And I’ll hang around as long as I can, but I can’t stay forever. I have a dinner meeting to go to, but I will stay for as long as I possibly can.”

  “Thank you.” I reached over and touched his hand. Gave the rest of the boys a grin, and a subtle kiss on the air. “That’s more than I could ask for.”

  My soul piped up. Dinner meeting? Something clicked into place. If I asked, would it be at seven p.m.? Would it also happen to be at Black Diamond?

  As badly as I wanted to ask, I couldn’t. Not without also revealing my plans. Which, fire or no fire, I had already promised myself I would keep secret. Keep away from them, until I was up on the auction block. And that’s what I was going to do, no matter what.

  So, I stayed silent.

  I would see them at seven p.m. At Black Diamond. I already knew I would. It was just a matter of them seeing me. And what they would do when they realized I had become a part of that “dinner” meeting.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  David

  Black Diamond.

  No matter how many times I’d been here, I never lost the feelings of awe and trepidation the place gave me. It was in an upscale loft, smack-dab in the middle of the new, wealthy part of town. By day, the bottom part of this building served as the dwelling place for a high-end suit and tie store. The upper part was treated like storage, for anyone who went asking what was up there.

  Only us paying members to Black Diamond were supposed to knew what was actually up here. Knew about the club, the bar and restaurant. Stepping inside, the plush gray carpet twinkled softly under my feet like diamonds in moonlight. All across the carpet were actual diamond patterns, black and glittering in color.

  They matched the walls, which were dark and shining. How they created that texture, whether through paint or using actual volcanic rock, no one would ever know. With all the recessed lighting in the smoky, obscured ceilings, I always felt like I was stepping into a sex dungeon. The anterior chamber, before entering a real playroom.

  The furniture in this room was made of black-cherry wood. Under the lighting, it made the wood appear blacker than cherry, which was the point. Each piece of furniture had the Black Diamond insignia carved into it somewhere.

  There were no tablecloths on any of the tables, but that only made room for diamond-shaped lanterns, each with their own dark candles inside. The candles must’ve also been filled up with scented wax, because the room was filled instantly with the smell of bourbon pumpkin.

  I picked a seat at one of the tables. One of the few that had more than two seats around it, and waved the rest of the guys in. My brother came in first, followed by Eric, then Travis.

  Not surprising, since Travis, despite his sales pitch to Gwendolyn about these kinds of events and the value of them for people and businesses needing to raise money, he wasn’t a fan. He was still uncomfortable with some aspects of the auction. And I didn’t blame him. While I understood that these were also a necessity for keeping our membership (an unfortunate side effect of being members was that we needed to attend these auctions annually, and bid on something, whether we saw something we liked or not), I didn’t like the “meat market” vibe of it all.

  Travis growled my exact thoughts as he claimed his seat around our table, and began to watch the front of the room.

  Sylvan, the man in charge of membership for this club, and the auctioneer for this event, was the first to stride forward. Goatee and long, dark hair, he looked like a warlock. A magician intent on transforming fates. His yellow-gold eyes only aided in this otherworldly appearance. Aided in the control he seemed to have over the women he managed to ensnare for these kinds of things.

  A few of whom were beginning to prance up toward him, all wearing numbers. Those numbers were engraved with small white diamonds on a bigger, black-diamond pins.

  Nothing too remarkable about these women, I found myself wishing I could’ve stayed with Gwendolyn instead of being forced to attend this. One look around the table told me I wasn’t the only one pining for our darling little barkeep.

  “It’d be one thing if this place were just a meat market,” groused Travis, staring daggers at the few women he could see already lining up to get on stage. “That would be bad enough. But no, it’s got to be a price gouge too.”

  “Why do you pay for a membership then, if you hate it so much?” That was Alex, reading my thoughts exactly. “As for the prices, they’re supposed to be above market. That’s the whole point of fundraising.”

  Travis scowled at the look he was getting from my brother. One that said he must be dumb to not know what those concepts meant, after all that time in college. After making the amount of money he’d made. “I got to keep my membership so I can mingle with the rich suckers around me. Remind them that they aren’t untouchable. Unbeatable, by people who weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouths.” As he said this, more impeccably-dressed men flooded in the room, and spilled through the tables.

  Young and old, these men came from every sort of money, every background. Every ethnicity, and while I knew a few by name, I’d mostly kept to myself. My social clique within this social group.

  “You do realize you are among those wealthy suckers now, right?” Eric’s soft voice bloomed into the space, almost competing with the heaviness of the pumpkin-bourbon smell. “You’re just as rich as they are.”

  Travis grumbled at this, throwing something at Eric.

  Part of me wanted to point out that me, my brother and Eric also came from a line of those “rich suckers,” but I didn’t bother. I knew and appreciated my friend’s hang-up. I appreciated his nobility around this, when all of the other men seemed to overindulge in the power that their money gave them. In their ability and privilege to treat these women, however willingly, like priced cattle or horses at a livestock show.

  Underneath my thoughts, Sylvan started the auction. Brought up the first woman to sell her valuable item. Sexy of course. Dark skin, full lips, dar
k eyes. She put on auction her willingness to experiment. To have her boundaries pushed.

  The bids went wild, but no one at my table bothered with her or with any of the women after her, until number 9 appeared.

  I saw her first. When I did, I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me.

  Flowing pearl-white cocktail dress. Matching shoes. Flawless opals in her ears and around her neck. Immaculate red hair, put up in a style that reminded me of Cinderella and Tinkerbell all at once. Ringlets hung down by her soft, almond-colored eyes.

  “Gwendolyn!”

  I sucked in a breath, unable to believe that it really was her. That she was here, standing on stage.

  After my hot, tense whisper, the other guys saw her. And they did as I had done. Held their breaths.

  But not me. I blurted out a number for her, the moment she got done expressing what she was offering. One night to take her virginity.

  What the number I yelled was, I didn’t know and didn’t care. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to let any of the other men have her. Even have a chance to bid on her and win. And they were already giving chase.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Alex

  What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  Even after staring at it for the last two minutes, even after hearing my brother blurt out some number in response to what the beautiful, familiar-looking woman in a sparkling white cocktail dress has just put on auction—her virginity— I still couldn’t believe she was here.

  Gwendolyn. My heart pounded around this, drying out my mouth, and disconnecting my brain from my spine. Is it really you? What are you doing here?

  Of course, my logical mind knew exactly what she was doing here. That she was here for the money, though, the moment she heard David’s bid go up, her eyes quickly found us. Our table, and soaked us all in. Gratefully. Needfully, especially when other offers began to pop and crackle from the space around us. Escalate in intensity, not just from my brother, but from a whole pack of other men who’d decided they were going to take him down.

  He was currently in a bidding war with them, all by himself.

  So I decided to join. I stood up, and gave out a number. “$100,000,” twice my brother’s initial bid, and at least $25,000 more than the current bid.

  David shot me a look, growling under his breath. “What are you doing?”

  “Bidding. Duh.”

  “Against me?” David sounded hurt and irritated by this, but he was quickly losing ground.

  “$200,000!” Some older gentleman on another part of the floor just smashed both of our bids.

  A flurry of other bids went up, and as much as I liked seeing my brother so irritated and flustered, I didn’t like how quickly this was getting out of control. Out of mine or my brother’s. “We can’t let anyone else get her,” I said, throwing up another number. “$400,000!” While I let the auctioneer have that, prattle and rattle on to the other men in the room, seeing if they were willing to catch up, I added, “so we need to keep those bids coming.”

  David frowned. “So you’re going to bid against me to do that?” His brow furrowed. “And when I thought we agreed not to be in competition against each other for her.”

  This hit me in a bad way. Almost as bad as the leers and snickers I was starting to hear from the tables closest to us. And from men I was more well acquainted with than I ever wanted to be. “I realize that, but as long as it stays at our table, what’s the problem?” I whispered this, hearing those chuckling and snickering gentlemen outbid us. Or come close.

  David threw out another number. “$688,000,” he said, and returned to our conversation. “The problem is, it’s unnecessary, Alex.”

  “$750,000,” I said, hearing those other fuckers clinging to a game that was clearly mine. “It makes us look legit, David. Like we actually are legitimately bidding on something, rather than just sitting around and watching. Or playing unfairly.”

  Briefly, my eyes caught Travis and Eric. Both of whom looked equally and differently uncomfortable and disgusted by this situation. Not about our table specifically, but about the other men in the room. About how vulnerable and scared Gwendolyn was beginning to look, when those bids would come in from other tables, and she was forced to see her value skyrocket, but potentially lose the thing I knew she really wanted.

  Me. Us.

  And in order to do that, we had to stay in the game, in whatever way possible.

  “$999,000,” I said, mocking all that money with the thousand dollars separating me from 1,000,000.

  And the only way to do that is to make it not worth it to them. Any of them, no matter what the cost.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Travis

  I hated everything about this. Not so much the brotherly bickering at our table, not even the amount of money being thrown around, or the fact that David and Alex were bidding against each other, as well as the entire room. In a way, that was a little expected, since they’d been in competition their entire lives.

  No, what bugged me the most was every other guy in the room. Every other rich motherfucker who was already acting like Gwendolyn was his. Or should be. Or that it would just be fun to throw that amount of money around for some poor, helpless-looking virgin.

  Not my words, but what I felt from every single man in the room. I didn’t even want to call them men. They were more like suit-wearing beasts, who went around acting like they were morally upstanding and of good breeding and emotional fiber, but they weren’t.

  I knew they weren’t.

  While I hadn’t grown up in a life of luxury or more money than I knew what to do with, I had spent the last handful of years after college dealing with them on a daily basis. Witnessing and tasting their filthy greed for myself.

  Their unearned sense of entitlement, which I knew was going to be the biggest danger to Gwendolyn. Most of these men had grown up with women doing whatever they wanted, however they wanted, as long as they paid enough. This would be the case for her, no matter how much I had stupidly told her she would have some control.

  Sure, she could set forth her stipulations. She could offer up what she was going to offer up, but ultimately, nearly every man in this room would find ways to undermine what she had agreed to give them. They would find any and every opportunity to butter her up with extra cash. Extra goodies, in order to get what they really wanted and believe they had paid for, rather than being true gentleman about it.

  Which is why I entered the ring. I threw up a bid, because if I didn’t, I was going to throw up. I was going to rush the stage, grab onto her, and say this was a bad, bad idea. That I should have never, ever suggested that she come here to solve any kind of problem, but I couldn’t.

  Not only would that have gotten us all thrown out of the club, but probably all expelled from it too. Leaving Gwendolyn vulnerable to these other bids. These other beds, as a result.

  “$1,000,000,” I said, though I was sure that was getting pretty close to what I was currently on track to make so far this month. I was sweating. Nauseous, but I wasn’t going to let some other guy feel all pompous and special because he crested that invisible line in the sand.

  Thank God there were no bids directly after this. The room was actually silent for a few moments. In those moments, I gave myself a moment to look at Gwendolyn. Send her some reassuring, protective vibes. Through my eyes I said, you’re mine, Gwendolyn. Ours. Don’t worry, but I will get you out of this. Out of here, and to where it’s safe. You’re so, so brave, baby. And I’m not going to let that bravery come back to bite you.

  As I looked at her, I saw her swallow heavily. Tears and fear most likely. But also love and joy for me. For the rest of us sitting there, bidding on her.

  That moment of sweet safety was quickly gone from us, however.

  A new bid rang out into the room. Over $1,000,000. Quickly followed by more. Within seconds, it was close to double my initial offer, and I hated myself for thinking I had done anything remotely like
a smooth move.

  It seemed Eric felt similarly. He swore under his breath, before standing up from his seat. “Fuck it. I am so tired of this shit. I’m going to get it handled, and handled permanently.” With that venomous whisper, all eyes were on him.

  Chapter Thirty

  Eric

  I meant what I said. I was tired of this shit. I was tired of this game. Tired of dealing with pithy little individual competitions, selfishness everywhere, and when Gwendolyn didn’t need to know which one of us was better, more capable. She needed all of us to come together, and save her. Protect her from all these other men who didn’t know or care for her. Not really. Who only had their own selfish, self-indulgent reasons for bidding. For looking at her the way they did, which I knew Gwendolyn saw. Clearly.

  And she was petrified. Terrified by it.

  I stood in the room, knowing what I had to do. Knowing that I had to do something just as unorthodox as how all of us really felt about her. Had grown to feel about her over the last few days, and as we had all agreed we would be with each other for her. Her well-being. Her sake.

  We’d agreed to share her. We’d agreed to give her the chance to say yes to all of us. To accepting us all sexually and romantically as partners. As fourths making up one whole of her world, but we couldn’t do that if someone else got her. If she fell into some other bastard’s clutches, that was all going to go goodbye. And not just because we couldn’t get to her, but because I doubted she would ever want anything to do with us again, after we had brought her to a lion’s den, only to be gobbled up by a strange, cruel beast.

  “$4,000,000,” I said, letting that number ring out into the room. Push back against any and every bit of competition. Every scrap of oily consumerism for Gwendolyn’s heart and soul. Her flesh and blood. “And this is not my bid, but a combined bid that my table is doing. Take out whatever fees you must for accepting this, but this is our bid, and we will now move forward bidding as one table.”