Page 12 of Vallaverse: Twist
The Alpha lets out a shocked snort. “I did not rape him. I paid you to use him. I paid you for the bite.”
“Prove it.”
There's a few moments of silence before he snarls. “You fucking bitch. Here. Take the goddamned money.”
“Was that so hard?” she purrs. “That's all you had to do.”
“Fuck you,” he hisses, and I don't have enough time to get out of the way before he yanks the door open to leave. He glares down at me, disgust clear on his face, and steps across my hunched body.
My eyes tear up as I watch him storm away from me, and it makes me want to scream. I don't want him. I don't want his mark. But that mark still makes this feel like a rejection.
“Kris,” I choke out. “What happened?”
“He didn't want to pay his bill. But I made sure he did.”
“He marked me.”
She walks over to me, tucking the money into her bra as her heels thud softly on the carpet. “I know, honey,” she says sadly, crouching down next to me and rubbing my back. “I know. We'll take care of it. Don't you worry.”
“You let him do it. I heard.”
“He was going to do it anyway, baby. I just made sure we got paid for it.”
Wearen't getting paid for anything. She gets the money and I get the drugs. But it isn't worth taking the time to argue about it right now. Right now we need to get to the clinic. Before I start getting sick from rejection AND coming down. We can argue later.
“We need to go. It already hurts. I can feel him.”
She pats my shoulder and stands up. “I'll get you some clothes and call ahead. It'll be quick.”
It always is.
Chapter Seven
Brooks
“Or,” Mrs. Richards says, turning away from the counter, “you could be a big brave Valla and just call him. I mean, really, Brooks. He's just a man. You know it was him who called you, and you know it was him on the sidewalk.”
“He hung up before I could say anything.”
“He got nervous. Stop being a baby.”
I have replayed that call so many times. It was barely two words, but they have been on a loop in my head for weeks. Over and over again. I didn't even get a full look at his face. But that was his voice, trembling as it was.
Why did he sound so shaken? That's what's been weighing on me more than anything else. His voice was actually shaking. Halting. Weak. Like there was something wrong.
I couldn't help him before and I can't help him now. There was no help for him back then, no help that he wanted. And I wouldn't know where to even begin helping him now, considering he's inclined to accept it. But why do I feel thisheaviness? Why do I feel such a deep need to save someone who has never wanted to be saved? Will I always be haunted by him?
“Just make the call. Your pride will keep you in bed with misery if you let it.”
I bristle. “It isn't pride.”
“Hurt, then.” She sits down at the table beside me and wraps her small hands around my larger ones. “Don't let old hurts keep you from seeking new happiness.”
“You don't know him,” I say, staring at our hands. “You don't know how he is— how he was.”
“It's alright to be scared. It really is. But you can't let that fear rule you. Call him. At least you'll know.”
I sigh.
