Allure

by Christin Lovell

  I felt better knowing I wasn’t stuck here permanently. Don’t get me wrong, the beds were a million times more comfortable than my own, but there was something comforting about being in my own space, knowing that it was mine and no one could take it away from me on a whim.

  He clasped my hand and pulled me next to him on the couch. Next thing I knew he opened a hidden recliner, lounged back and gently pulled me against him, careful of all my sore spots. He removed a blanket from an armrest compartment and wrapped it around me. I wasn’t used to being taken care of like this. Even more, I’d never been in a man’s arms before. I felt safe beside him; somehow it felt right, but I kept fighting it. While I liked it, I knew better than to get used to it. I had to accept this as a one-time thing.

  “Stop thinking and go to sleep, mi amor,” he said, gently stroking my back.

  —

  I woke up to a bustle of noise in the kitchen and daylight streaming brightly into the room.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” Marco smiled, standing behind the couch over me.

  “Closer to afternoon,” Kuha said, lounging on the end of the sofa.

  Afternoon? Daylight? “Oh, no! I’m late! Wilma’s going to kill me.” I threw the blanket and leapt off the couch, wincing and swaying simultaneously. Kuha caught me by my upper arms steadying me.

  “Easy there, killer. We don’t need a repeat of yesterday,” he said helping me back down on the couch.

  “I called them. Wilma will be by later to check on you.” Marco’s brows furrowed as he gave me a once over.

  “Wait, here?” I heard the panic in my voice.

  “Yes.” He was so calm, nonchalant about it.

  “But…how do I explain…this?” I gestured to the other guys standing in the kitchen, devouring a tray full of sandwiches.

  His eyes softened. “She already knows, Emma.”

  My jaw dropped. I was speechless. I assumed there was some sort of secrecy law.

  “Harvey’s one of us,” Kuha explained.

  My mind was reeling. Never in a million years did I expect to hear those words. No wonder they gave me the day off. They both knew. I never would have guessed though, especially given their physiques. “But…well…” I fidgeted, unsure of how to politely breach the subject. “Um, aren’t all of you guys supposed to be in shape?”

  “Our metabolism is naturally faster, but we have big appetites to fuel ourselves. Basically, we’re like dogs; if we only exercise or shift once in a while, we’re going to be overweight,” Marco detailed, coming around and sitting on the sofa. He gently pulled me down beside him.

  “Oh. I guess that makes sense.” I looked at the guys sitting around the island chatting animatedly. I felt like an outsider invading their space. “Um, you were supposed to take me home.” I turned towards Marco.

  “And I will, after you eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I countered.

  “Wilma said you’d say that.”

  I felt my cheeks color. I peered down at the coffee table to avoid eye contact. I should have known she would rat me out, especially if she knew I’d been hurt.

  “Will! Bring Emma a sandwich,” Marco ordered. Ten seconds later a boy with dark brown hair falling to the tips of his shoulders, dancing blue eyes, and a demeanor that screamed mischievous handed me a plate.

  “Uh, thanks, but I’m really not—”

  “You can either eat this on your own or I can force feed you. Which would you prefer?” At Marco’s stern tone, Will scurried away.

  “You wouldn’t really do that…would you?” I raised an eyebrow in question, shrinking away from him just in case.

  “Trust me, he would. Eat,” Kuha said. He got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing another sandwich off the tray and killing one-third of it with one bite.

  “Your choice, but you need to eat to regain your strength and recover.”

  I slowly lifted the ham and cheese sandwich to my mouth and took a small bite, never taking my eyes off Marco. I couldn’t figure him out. One minute he was barking orders like an alpha; the next, he was cuddling with me and calling me ‘mi amor.’ I didn’t know whether to look at him as a bossy big brother or potential, territorial boyfriend.

  I took my time swallowing the food with Marco watching me the entire time. Half way through the sandwich, I handed over the plate with a firm, “I’m done.” His eyes narrowed challengingly, but ultimately he gave in consuming the other half of my sandwich himself in two bites.

  “Can I go home now?” I pressed. He sighed. I think because it was the only thing I’d been truly persistent on, he agreed.

  “Kuha’s in charge. You know your chores,” Marco commanded as he walked past the kitchen.

  I immediately froze beside the couch at the word chores. My heart lurched in my chest. My lungs forgot their function as goose bumps prickled my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself defensively. I was surprised the guys were still laughing and goofing off as if their day hadn’t been ruined by the news.

  “You okay?” one of the guys broke away to ask.

  I looked directly at him, swallowing hard. I couldn’t answer. A wave of emotions rolled through me, wrapping me in tension and, surprisingly, heartache. I was shocked by the sadness woven within this moment. I was stunned to learn I already cared, somehow. Perhaps it was because of their hospitality.

  I continued to stare at him. Despite the kindness in his eyes, in their eyes, this was too much like the orphanage. I knew once I got home I was never coming back here. I wouldn’t.

  Marco insisted he drive me home instead of us walking. It was better that way, though I was struggling to keep my distance from him, pulling away any time he tried to touch me. It was nothing offensive or aggressive, just light caresses like he’d feathered me with previously. They were entirely unwelcome though now that I knew he was the slave driver.

  I jumped out of the car before he even put it in park uttering a quick, “Thanks.” I immediately swayed but luckily caught myself. I didn’t want to give him any reason to linger.

  He was quickly on my heels. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “I’ve clearly made it home safely. I’ll be fine from here, thanks,” I said as I opened the front door to my building.

  He turned me towards him. “I’m not leaving,” he declared, staring directly into my eyes, locking me in place. Seconds passed before he released me.

  I sighed, hanging my head. “I don’t want to go back, Marco.” When he didn’t reply, I lifted my eyes to peer at him through my lashes.

  Curiosity laced his features but concern crinkled his brows. “Why are you always running, Emma?”

  “I’m not running; I’m trying to survive.” I turned away from him and headed upstairs. He followed silently behind me.

  —

  Chapter Six

  I halted when I got to my apartment door, which was cracked open a bit. Chills ran through me. I didn’t have anything of value, but just the fact that someone had invaded my space, disrupted my private refuge, upset me.

  Marco pulled me behind him. He growled as he sniffed the air. “Wait here.” There was no arguing with him this time. His words were final.

  He slowly pushed the door open the rest of the way. I gasped at the sight of my sofa. With that one word, I immediately knew who had done it. Carved into the back cushion of my sofa was the single word: MINE. My hand chose that moment to start throbbing, as if my body was physically reacting to the message. I was frustrated. I didn’t understand why he was going to such extremes. What was it about me when he didn’t even know me?

  Marco did a quick walk through before allowing me to enter. “He’s gone, but we need to report this and what happened yesterday,” he looked pointedly at me, “to the police.” I guess he figured out it was Ryan.

  I nodded once, making a beeline for my room. I stopped the second I breached the doorframe. My blankets were strewn about on the floor and carved into my mattress was again the same word. I swallowed my e
motions, trying to remain calm and rational. No panicking. This can be fixed. I can just flip the mattress over, and the couch can probably be stitched up. If not, then I can just lay a blanket strategically across it… It’s okay, I assured myself.

  I walked over to the mattress and squatted down to get a good grip on the underside. It was a twin, so it wasn’t very heavy, and could be easily flipped with one hand. It sat on the floor as the only thing in my bedroom. I began to lift it, but dropped it the moment I saw the paint on the wall. He’d taken the time to spray paint in red the word ‘traitor’ on the same wall as the door. I took a few deep breaths. It can be painted over. No big deal. Just one extra shift should be enough.

  I flipped the mattress, but a sharp sob escaped when I saw the word ‘whore’ carved into the other side. Marco came running. He snarled, curled his hands into fists and punched a hole in the wall. I jumped back, his actions startling me. I could only stare wide-eyed at the fresh damage, the tears silently streaming down my face.

  He stormed out. I saw him pulling his phone out of his pocket on the way.

  I opened my closet and grabbed the only pair of sweatpants I owned and a long-sleeved work shirt since the only other long-sleeved shirts I owned had been ruined, which only made encouraged my quiet tears to fall faster. I didn’t have the money to buy new clothes, replace furniture, and fix up an apartment I barely was able to afford. Housing wasn’t cheap, availability was limited, and tourists were snatching things up right and left driving up the prices.

  I grabbed a pair of panties and my last bra and headed to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Luckily there was no damage in the bathroom.

  I’d cried myself out in the shower where the water would drown it out. I’d never broken down in front of anyone, and I swore I never would after I saw the punishment Meriam delved out on little Henry one day. I was ashamed. How could I let material things break me like that? I could only imagine what Marco thought of me.

  When I walked out, Marco was talking to the police. I guess he’d called the pack because Harvey, Kuha and a few others were there.

  “Hey, sugar. How you feeling?” Harvey immediately asked, pulling me to his side.

  “Um, I’m okay.” I offered him a small smile.

  “Now don’t lie to me, Em. It’s alright to be weak sometimes, honey.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I merely nodded, glancing at the others who were taking in the damage. It was a surreal moment. I felt numb. Physically I was there, but mentally, emotionally…

  Apparently he’d carved into the bottom row of the cabinets in the kitchen as well. I reminded myself to breathe. Somehow I would find a way to afford the repairs. I couldn’t allow anyone to control me or my life ever again.

  After giving both accounts in detail to two different officers, filling out a written statement, which Marco had to write for me since I’m right handed, and signing a few papers which would never match my regular signature, they explained how to file a restraining order against Ryan. I felt uneasy about the whole process. If I was really honest with myself, I just wanted to fix everything and move on. If I didn’t acknowledge him, maybe he would go away. Everyone was pushing for me to take that step though.

  “Don’t worry about the damage; the pack’ll pay for it,” Marco stated. He’d already had the guys make a list of everything for the police.

  I shook my head negatively. “That’s alright. I’ll find a way, thanks.” My voice was weak, quaking in parts.

  “Everyone needs a little help sometimes, Em,” Harvey said.

  “I know, but I’ll be fine. Really. I can stitch the sofa myself, and I never sleep on the mattress anyway so I won’t miss it.” I tried to reason, but there was little reason in my refusal.

  “Stop, Em,” Harvey sighed. “Now, I’m about to be a little mean, but it’s only because I love you like you are my own.” He fixed me with stare. “This place is a dump. I don’t know how you’ve survived here with this little for so long. You might as well be living outside without a heater. The couch is damn near falling apart; you don’t even own a box spring for crying out loud. You have one lamp in the whole damn place and I’m surprised you haven’t gone insane with the lack of entertainment. I don’t know what the hell you eat because I only found half a loaf of bread and a nearly empty jar of peanut butter in the pantry. You should just let us fix the place and terminate your lease. You’d be fully protected if you lived with the pack and wouldn’t have to worry about struggling to pay for a shithole or skipping meals because you can’t afford them. Hell, if I’d known it was this bad, I would have forced you out a long time ago.”

  I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I knew I didn’t have much, but it was always enough. I’d never needed more than what I had. I’d gotten this and maintained all of it on my own without any help, with minimal sacrifices in my eyes. Skipping a few meals didn’t bother me. I was used to it. Regardless, I’d done the best I could to meet what little needs I had, and he couldn’t look down on me for that.

  “I know I don’t have much, but it’s always been enough,” I offered softly.

  “Em, you’re damn near skin and bones. How the hell can that be enough?” he snarled.

  I couldn’t take anymore, especially with everyone listening in and looking at me, so I turned and walked away. I went to my room and closed the door behind me. I was embarrassed and confused. How do you justify your lifestyle when it’s clearly below everyone else’s in the room?

  I curled into a ball on the floor and covered myself up with the lone blanket in my room. The hardwood wasn’t considerate of my bruised body, but I didn’t care. I had to get away. I wanted to escape and forget everything that had happened and everything Harvey said.

  I didn’t know how much time passed before Marco came into the room. He came to lie on the floor in front of me. “You need to come with us, Emma, at least for a few days until we can clean up and install an alarm in your apartment. It’s not safe for you until then.”

  I nodded once in agreement not even bothering to argue. I knew it’d do me no good, especially when Wilma finally came around. My head was already pounding, my body sore, my hand throbbing and eyes dry and irritated from crying; I didn’t want to add anything else to the list.

  I got up and pulled my old school bag from the closet. Marco watched me fill the bag with my clothes. I only owned one pair of shoes so everything fit without a problem.

  “Where are the rest of your clothes? I’ll grab them,” he offered.

  “This is it.”

  I waited for him to make a comment, but he didn’t. He nodded his head once and took the book bag from me to carry. I grabbed my toothbrush, hairbrush and rubber bands to tie my hair back before we left.

  —

  The moment I walked through the pack’s door, my temporary home, Wilma rushed me.

  “My God, girl, what the dickens happened to you? And who the hecklesteen is messing with my baby?”

  “Ryan,” Marco answered for me.

  “I always knew that man was trouble. There’s something very dark about him. His pack is definitely banned from the diner.”

  I shook my head lightly in dismay. “His pack? He’s…he’s an alpha?”

  They both nodded. I should have known given how controlling he was. Urik did everything he commanded and more, it seemed.

  “Marco, why is this girl still standing? Let’s get her off her feet.” Wilma pulled me onto one of the couches. Several other members of the pack came and sat around us. Apparently, Wilma was popular, which was understandable given her bubbly personality.

  “Now, has Mr. Alpha introduced you to all these handsome young men?” she asked, winking at the boys. Marco let out a soft growl. She raised her eyebrows at him.

  His features were hard, his jaw clenching as he narrowed his eyes at her.

  Wilma busted out laughing.

  I looked at him, then her. Their expressions were polar opposites. I didn’t understand what could initiate suc
h reactions.

  Marco cleared his throat as if to signal for Wilma to cut it out. She didn’t pay him any mind. She studied the two of us separately, giving him a knowing look when her eyes landed on his. “It’s her, isn’t it? She’s yours?” she finally spoke.

  Marco didn’t reply. He remained quiet and stern, solemn.

  “Um. Am I the only one who is completely lost?” I asked the guys.

  Will came over and plopped down on the sofa, spreading his arms across the length of the back. He grinned wide and said, “I think our main man has found his mate, and that’s you, sweetheart.”

  A shiver of doubt slid through me. “We just met.”

  “He’d know the minute he met you. It’s all about scent to us, and from where I’m sitting you smell pretty darn sweet to me.” He winked.

  “That’s enough, Will,” Marco bit out.

  Yup, he was definitely mischievous; probably the rowdiest of them all too.

  “Always have to run off at the mouth, don’t ya?” Wilma shook her head at him. He shrugged his shoulders, not bothered in the slightest as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Now, back to business,” Wilma said, pulling my attention back to her. “How much time do you need off?”

  “None. I’ll be back to work tomorrow. Promise. The only reason why I didn’t come today was because my apartment key was held hostage so I couldn’t get home to shower and change.”

  She frowned, immediately looking past me to Marco. “Thank you. About damn time someone reined this girl in. How much time do you think she needs, boss?”

  “Wait. That’s not fair. It’s my life and my job, Wilma. I’m telling you I’m fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “She’ll change with the next moon which’ll speed up her healing, so I would say five weeks,” he replied.

  “Five weeks? No way! Don’t listen to him, Wilma. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “I think five weeks sounds about right,” she agreed.

  “Wilma, please don’t do this to me. That job is all I have now.” Horror coated every shrieking word that fell from my lips.