Alpha's Claim

by 10 Author Anthology

  Arika’s eyes flashed with the injustice of his statement. “You’ve been healed for days!” she accused. “Your leg is fine! If that’s all that was keeping you, then why are you still here?”

  Snatching up his jeans, he shoved his legs into them and yanked them up over his hips. “Good point.”

  She gave a wordless plea as he made for the door. “That’s not what I meant!” He stalked out, not even giving her a backwards glance. “Duke!” she screamed, her voice raw. “Duke!”

  The sound of her front door slamming shut was the only response she received. With a despairing wail, Arika slid to the floor and cried as her world fell apart around her.

  Chapter Eight

  Nearly three weeks had passed since Duke stormed out of her life. Though she’d returned to work and the normalcy she was used to, all the things she’d once loved seemed to be lacking. She missed him. For as little as he fit into her life, she missed the hell out of Duke.

  Well, that was too damn bad, because he obviously didn’t miss her. She’d thought there was a chance he was starting to fall for her, but he’d obliterated that delusion the night he stormed out on her. Clenching her jaw, Arika launched herself into the grand finale of the play’s dance routine. She tuned out the enamored audience and lost herself in the art of dance. She whirled across the stage, her head held high, proud. She did not need a man to make her happy.

  With one last leap, she landed the final jump. She raised her arms out to her sides and gave a delicate plié that substituted for a bow. As the crowd roared and rose to their feet with applause, a smile spread across her lips. Life went on. She was going to be just fine.

  After taking a final, unpretentious bow, she trotted to the backstage area, her shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths of exertion. She was just heading to the changing area when one of the lighting guys touched her arm, stopping her.

  “Arika? There’s a man stage right who says he’s your boyfriend. He asked to see you.”

  She gave him a puzzled look before wandering over to the steps that led down into the audience. The sight that greeted her had her breath freezing in her lungs.

  Duke stood at the bottom of the steps, a bouquet of roses in his arms. “You look so beautiful,” he said quietly.

  She made her way down the steps to him, anxiously brushing a sweaty wisp of hair away from her face. “Duke…” Her voice held so many questions, each of them scarier than the last.

  Handing over the roses, he brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. “Is it all right that I called you my girlfriend? Seemed the best way to convey what I wanted, to tell you how sorry I was.”

  She sniffed the flowers, giving her mind a moment to track what he was saying. When she lifted her face to his, she had tears in her eyes. “You want to be my boyfriend?”

  “More than anything in the world.” Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm. “If you’ll have me.”

  She bobbed her head in affirmation, emitting a little sniffle.

  “Good.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a slow, gentle kiss. “I panicked, Arika. It…” He broke off, his voice hoarse. “It’d been so long since I allowed myself to feel anything. When you said you loved me … I didn’t know what to do. I freaked.”

  Lifting a hand, he brushed the hair back that had once again fallen into her eyes. “I want you to know I love you. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy.” He paused, a grin spreading across his lips. “In fact, I made a start. I wanted to prove to you just how much I was willing to change … especially since you were right. About everything.” He gave her another kiss before pulling back. Taking her hand, he led her over to the front row of seats.

  The concert hall had started to empty, but there in the front row sat a family. A man climbed to his feet at their approach and offered her a warm smile.

  “Arika,” Duke said, “I’d like you to meet my father.” To the man, he said, “Dad, this is my girlfriend, Arika. She’s the one who brought us back together.”

  As the older man ignored her offered handshake and drew her into a hug, Arika realized she’d not only expanded her life and world to include Duke, she’d also gained a second family.

  The End

  https://sites.google.com/site/melissahosack

  CRAZY FOR YOU

  Persephone Jones

  Copyright© 2014

  Chapter One

  Bo Larson pushed hard against the heavy metal door. A gust of wind lifted her bangs, and they fluttered on her forehead. Anywhere else, the breeze would have felt good, but this was the heart of downtown so she clamped her lips shut and held her breath. The air smelled stale and musty, almost as bad as the smoky air inside Thrall.

  She gripped the stun gun, the rubberized handle fitting perfectly in the palm of her hand, while she held her car keys in the other. As a backup, she kept a canister of Mace stashed in her pocket. Living in the city had taught her a lot about self-reliance. The most important lesson—that she could never be prepared enough. Her first week there she’d been grabbed, dragged into an alley, raped, and robbed.

  That had been almost a year ago.

  No hero had swooped in to rescue her, throttled the villain or saved the day. Such ideas were pure fantasy. What was it her therapist always said? There's no hero like yourself.

  But if there were a hero worthy of her rescue it would be the Nordic hunk from Thrall. Her heart jumped every time she saw him. Aside from what he always ordered, a single malt highland scotch whiskey aged twenty years or better, he never engaged her verbally. His tips were ridiculously generous. As silly as it might have been, she found him beautiful. The way the light caught his long, brunet hair, worn loose and wild and partially braided. He wore a close beard, and it suited his large, handsome face. Warm chocolate brown eyes under a hooded brow and a mouth that was at times both miserly with a smile and flirtatious from afar. Her thoughts were silly because at six feet six inches tall, built like a brick shithouse, and oozing a killer don't-fuck-with-me vibe, he was not beautiful—he was scary. But he was beautiful to her. And anyone that beautiful had to have someone waiting for him at home. Not that it was any concern of hers. Last year's assault had left her a prisoner of her former life. Regret whispered bitter nothings in intimacy's ear. Flashbacks and foreplay didn't go together.

  As she approached the driver’s side door of her car, someone shot up from a crouched position like a creepy jack-in-the-box. A large man grabbed her, putting her in an immediate chokehold. If he'd meant to scare her, take her off guard, it worked. Bo screamed, but halfway through, her startled shriek changed pitch, transforming into a roar of defiance. She would not give into panic. Fear might take her hostage, but her attacker wasn't going to get the pleasure of knowing it.

  "Come here, bitch." An angry male voice spoke through clenched teeth.

  She cried out as he pinned her arm behind her back, the stun gun dangling on a lanyard off her wrist. One of her heels flew off and tumbled across the parking lot as she kicked and flailed. Sexy black stiletto heels with a big black flower on the side. These are new shoes, prick. Bo's inner bitch retaliated. If only she could reach one, she'd make him a martini he'd never forget with his eyeballs for olives.

  It was last year all over again. Damned jinx. Maybe thinking about her attack had brought on another one. Crazier things had happened. A dark energy had followed her like a raincloud ever since the first time. But that line of thinking only benefitted the wolf at her back.

  Bo struggled against the thick forearm at her throat, the thin hairs tickling her lips. She winced. The pinprick at her neck felt like a bee sting, but she knew that's not what it was. Bumblebees enjoyed the sunshine and flitted about on spring flowers. They did not bear silent witness to urban horrors. The monster had injected her with something, a sedative or paralytic. She shoved her elbow into his midsection, and he dropped the syringe.

  Now was her chance to utilize what she'd learned in self-defense cl
ass—a real world application. An urban Cinderella, she stomped down hard with her other high heel, and her attacker howled. Good. She hoped she'd broken his toes. He'd think of her every time he took a step. While he reeled from her defensive move, she twisted in his hold and zapped him. The staccato crackle and tap of the stun gun made her smile. She took the opportunity to get a quick look at him. He was tall, barrel-chested, bald, and reeked of cheap cologne. Big ugly bastard. Bub. That's how she'd describe him to the cops.

  Bo prayed the electrical current seizing him would force him to rethink things and run away. He wore enough ode-to-the-toilet that it should have electrocuted him as effectively as if she'd thrown a TV in his bathwater.

  No such luck. Bub barely reacted. She'd turned up the stun gun all the way. It would have flattened an average-sized man. Instead, Bub acted like he'd simply walked across a carpeted floor and touched a doorknob. She'd have to rely on her hands and feet to fight him off. Eyes, ears, nose, throat, stomach, dick, knees, feet. Bo chanted it like a mantra in her head.

  A split-second break and she was free. She teetered backward, and her head swam. With what remained of her coordination, she kicked Bub between the legs, her foot connecting with his crotch. Bulls-eye. Or was that balls-eye?

  "Ha!" Bo sneered at him triumphantly. She took off in a sprint around the building in her stocking feet. The pebbles beneath her clattered, shifting to and fro as she pumped her legs to get more speed. She could hear the heavy-footed man's relentless pursuit. No use going for the backdoor. It locked automatically and no one would hear her pounding on it over the loud, thumping club music. Her best bet was the front parking lot. The bouncers would see her, hear her screams, and come to her aid.

  Bub reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, bringing her down hard on the unforgiving asphalt. Her knees throbbed from the impact. She rolled and kicked her legs as if swimming from a great white shark. But his grip on her was like a boa constrictor, impossible to escape.

  Her attacker had the advantage, but that didn't mean she'd stop fighting. There was always a chance she might get free, escape with her life—hurt but breathing. He dragged her underneath him with a victorious chuckle. God, his breath made her gag. Had he gargled with piss? She clawed his face and drew blood, stoking the flames of his rage. He pinned her wrists together with one hand and drew the other hand back in a fist. It looked huge coming toward her face.

  Bo braced herself, her grip on consciousness fading with every second. The drug, whatever it was and however much he'd given her, had piggybacked on the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The impending blow would daze her, and the drug would do the rest. Soon she would be compliant and pliable. Bo delivered a quick silent prayer to the heavens that she got a second chance. To hell with the pain and the terror that followed.

  Out of nowhere, a hand caught her assailant's fist with an audible smack. Only it wasn't like any hand she'd ever seen. It was more like a paw. Bo shook her head, desperate to focus. A giant humanoid male covered in muscles towered over Bub by a foot. He bared his teeth, long, plentiful and pointed in objection. Bo watched in horrified amazement. Hair sprouted all over the man's arms, face and neck. His eyes were blood red. Her savior was turning into an animal right in front of her. Or a bunch of them. Tall as a bear but toothy like a giant cat, she couldn't pinpoint which animal he most resembled. By the time her mind decided on one, he'd morphed into another.

  Immediately Bub disregarded Bo in favor of his own safety, his attention hijacked by the monstrous interloper. The beast pulled him to his feet and slung him like a ragdoll against a nearby SUV. Bub's big body left a huge dent where he made contact, activating the alarm. It wailed like an angry baby awoken from its nap. Bub fought back with his fists, but he was no match for his opponent. The huge animalistic man swiped at Bub's side with razor-sharp claws, ripping through his jacket, shirt and flesh.

  He looked like a combination of the most vicious beasts she'd ever seen—bear, boar, wolf, lion—all and none. Bo stared wide-eyed and mouth agape as her crazed defender pummeled Bub without mercy. After delivering several debilitating swipes and punches, the wild man gave Bub the chance to formulate a counterattack. To his merit, Bub gave it his all, but his wild-eyed adversary hardly flinched. Bub slugged the giant in the abdomen and upper body. When that yielded no result, he went for his face. Hunkered down in terror behind a car, Bo caught the animal-man's gleeful expression. He smiled at her, clearly amused with Bub's laughable attempt at defense. He took hold of him by the lapels and threw him against another car, shattering the back windshield. The pitiable man, beaten to a pulp, scrambled to his feet. Not to attack, but to retreat.

  Bub ripped free of the creature's grip and staggered into a run. He pulled back a piece of broken chain-link fencing that surrounded the parking lot and scurried through the gap. A black four-door sedan eased to a crawl by the curb. The beaten man threw open the door and dived in. The car squealed and took off around the corner, disappearing into the night. The animal-man, panting but hardly labored, started after Bub in pursuit then stopped, as if thinking better of it.

  Bo looked on in horrified surprise. The man-beast on two legs glanced down at a scrap of Bub's jacket in his claw and threw it to the ground in disgust. He spun around and laid his bloodlust eyes upon her. Would he do to her what he'd done to Bub? She scuttled backward on her hands and feet like an upside-down crab but tripped on her coattail, collapsing against the chain-link fence. A quick glance left and right told her there was nowhere to go. He took another step toward her. She raised her arm to shield herself. No—she would not die a coward. Bo flattened, moving under the vehicle nearest her, a truck. If this thing wanted her, he was going to have to work to get her. He circled the truck and stood at the rear. Shaking, she listened to a metallic groan and looked up. He'd lifted the car up on the two front wheels, his hungry gaze fixated on her. Snarling, his lips curled into a crazed, feral smile.

  Panicked, she rushed out as the metal heap fell to the ground with a loud boom. Another car alarm howled in obnoxious duet with the other. The hybrid man-animal approached her with calm confidence. He knew he had her. His predatory stare burned holes through her as he closed the space between them. Bent forward, he took her by the arms, his grip possessive and inflexible. He disregarded her anguished scream with a furrowed brow. Lifting her without effort, he examined her, tilting his head like a curious dog. His nostrils opened and closed in rapid succession as he sniffed a trail up her neck.

  Bo couldn't hold on any longer. Helpless, she watched his mouth open wide, his mouthful of glistening teeth in full display. Her eyelids fluttered. He was going to eat her. She hoped he choked. Lifting the stun gun, she dug it into the monster's side. His roar filled her head with sound, and the wind in his lungs blew over her like a hot summer breeze. It was the last thing she remembered before passing out.

  Chapter Two

  Bo came awake kicking and screaming. Seth Madsen noticed but didn't react. Conditioned to sit completely motionless for hours if necessary, the woman's abrupt awakening hardly startled him. She was traumatized, but getting agitated along with her would only amplify her anxiety. So he kept still and watched her, giving her time to catch up and adjust.

  She must have been walking down memory lane in the dark. Once again, she was under the bright fluorescent lights of the ER. At the mere mention of sedation, she bit the attending physician and kicked the male nurse between the legs.

  In the hour Bo lay in bed, Seth had taken a tour of her tidy apartment. His heart ached when he saw her therapist's business card and read the journal she'd left open on the roll-top desk in the living room. But he didn't dare go out of his way to invade her private thoughts, merely reading the open page dated last year. She'd been hurt before, only much worse. If it hadn't been for him, she would have been hurt again. He sighed with relief. Because of his intervention, his little waitress was home, safe in bed.

  But the journal spoke volumes about Bo's mental state. A fly in
a spider's web, she was stuck within the painful memory of her assault, trapped in time. Instead of writing a current entry in her journal, she was rereading old ones and reliving the past.

  Seth watched her eyes travel from her bed to her comfy chair where he sat to the reading lamp beside it and the shelves brimming with books. Her eyes flitted past him and back again, widening with alarm. Yes, she was home. The question was who was her uninvited guest? He hoped she'd let him introduce himself.

  "Easy, min skatt."

  Bo screamed, plastered against the headboard like a bug on a windshield.

  "Easy," he said more firmly. He'd found a syringe in the parking lot. Full of a sedative, no doubt. God only knows how much she might have in her system. The last thing he wanted was to add to her upset.

  Her expression was defiant, but she had nothing to fear from him. The challenge, however, was convincing her of that. "Who are you? What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?"

  Seth leaned forward carefully. No sudden movements. He kept his voice even and soft. "You were attacked in the parking lot at Thrall. Do you remember?"

  His mind flew in reverse. Bracing himself against the brick wall outside the nightclub, he'd stepped out to take a piss when the strangest scream he'd ever heard pierced the night air. He could have waited to use the men's restroom inside, but as usual it was occupied by his boss and one of the waitresses. Frequently, he used it as his personal miniature whorehouse, and that night was no different. Seth had buckled up and crept around the corner to investigate the ruckus only to find a man and woman wrestling in the parking lot. Lover's spat? No—he'd lived long enough to know a life and death struggle when he saw it.