Page 76 of Stalked By the Alphas
“Let go of me!” I growl, startling him into letting me go.
Summer rain.
Summer rain.
Summer rain.
Men in masks.
Heat delirium.
Knots.
So many knots.
I stare at him in horror, my mouth open in complete shock.Did they? Could they? How?
“Stay away from me!” I screech so loudly, Noah flinches and looks around to see if anyone heard me,but I don’t give a flying fuck. “Stay the fuck away from me! You’re all fucking psychos!”
“Hazel, please,” Noah says, his voice low and urgent. “Let us explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain!” I snap, backing away. “You’ve been… I don’t even know… what? Manipulating my life all this time? How could you?”
Before any of them can say another word, I grip the suitcase handle tightly and wheel it down the driveway and over the road. It hits the kerb on the other side and wrenches my arm, but I don’t care. I’m too much in shock to think straight. Marching across the park, I hope they aren’t following me, but I don’t look back. How has this happened? How did I not piece it all together? It wasn’tmeall this time. It never was. It wasthem. They drove away all the other alphas from my life. The ugly sob that escapes me scares a woman pushing a pushchair, and she gives me a sympathetic look when she sees my suitcase. I glare at her, daring her to say something, but she backs off, which is lucky for her.
My mind reels as I stumble through the park, my suitcase bumping along behind me. The revelation of the alphas’ manipulation crashes over me in waves, each realisation more horrifying than the last.
They have been controlling my life all this time. The missed opportunities, the strange occurrences, the feeling of being watched. It all makes sickening sense now. My whole life has been a carefully orchestrated lie.
Tears blur my vision as I walk, desperate to reachmy house. It’s not much further. I just need to get there and lock the doors, and I’ll be safe.
Or will I?
How could they do this to me? How could the boys I once trusted so completely become these controlling monsters?
I finally reach my front door, fumbling with shaking hands to get my key in the lock. Once inside, I slam the door shut, sliding the bolt across and securing the chain. I slide down to the floor, my body wracked with sobs. The reality of everything crashes over me: the abduction, the assault, the revelations about the alphas. It’s too much.
For a long time, I just sit there and cry, unable to process it all. Eventually, the tears subside, and I’m left feeling numb and hollow. I drag myself to my feet and stumble upstairs to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I splash water on my face and try to cool down my hot, burning eyes. I am so sick of crying. I am so sick of acting like a victim. They made me this way.
As I mechanically go through the motions, my mind keeps replaying Carter’s words.Everything we have done has been to ensure you ended up with us. The implications are staggering. How much of my life have they controlled? The failed relationships, the sale almost falling through on the bookshop, my parents’ death? How far does this go?
The weight of betrayal sits heavy in my chest.
I make my way to the bedroom and pull on somefresh pyjamas before heading back downstairs. I snatch up my handbag and walk into my office, only then realising I left my laundry hamper over at Carter’s. Well, tough shit. I’m not going back for it.
Slamming my bag down, I yank out the cam bear and plug him in to charge him up good and proper. I won’t be lax in this area ever again. In fact, I will buy some proper CCTV for both outside and inside the house. I pull out the anti-anxiety meds and the herbal tablets and take them back upstairs to the bathroom. Standing over the toilet, I systematically chuck all of them in and flush several times to get rid of them. I never needed these. Between David Johnson, Ayden whatever his fucking name was and the alphas, I’ve been stalked, controlled, manipulated, abducted, assaulted, and been a witness to two brutal murders, but one thing I have not been is crazy.
No.
That was never, ever part of it.
It wasn’t me.
It was never fucking me. None of it.
Tears sting my eyes again, but I brush them away roughly. I am done crying. I am done feeling sorry for myself. That is not who I am. It’s not who Iwantto be. I’m not the good little omega who bows her head and does what she’s told to by society.
I march back downstairs, my resolve hardening with each step. No more. No more manipulation, no more control. I am taking my life back. I grab my laptop from the office and settle on the couch, ready to take action.First, I research security systems, ordering the best one I can afford for both the house and the shop. Next, I look into self-defence classes in the area, signing up for the first available course.
