AN ALPHA'S WRATH

I stepped off of the bike and stood up, taking my keys out at the same time.

He stood up too and took off the helmet. I took it from his hands and then looked at him.

It was still light, so I could see how terrified he actually was. On any normal day, I would've felt bad for him, but I simply didn't have it in me. I felt in control and powerful.

"Ok, so we are going to go into my room, and you will answer every question I have; otherwise, I'll kill you." I said it in the sweetest tone I could.

He nodded slightly, telling me that he at least understood what I was saying.

We both walked away towards the building, and I was watching every little mood he made. I needed to make sure that he didn't run away.

If he told me everything he needed to know, he could go by the time it got dark.

When we got into the hotel, the guy at the reception gave me an up-and-down and then went back to smoking his cigarette. It was a very shitty hotel, but it was close to everything, and no one asked any questions.

I had made sure to get a room on the first floor so that it was easy to bring him with me.

We walked to my room, and I locked the door behind us.

The room was small, with an en-suite connected. There was a single bed and a desk; there was not much else in the room besides a wardrobe and a tiny TV that was covered in dust. The paint was chipped and the carpet was stained, but the bed was comfortable enough, and I didn't have enough clothes to use the wardrobe.

Nicko stood in the middle of the room, and I placed my helmet down on the floor.

"You can sit on the bed." I said.

I hadn't slept under the blanket because there were probably bed bugs on every inch of the mattress. I had straightened out the duvet in the morning so that it didn't look so messy.

He sat down and ran his hands along the bed. His face was still pale, but for some reason he seemed less scared. In all fairness, he should've been more scared now that we were alone and I didn't have to worry about possible witnesses.

"Ok. So, first question: Why does she want to kill me?" I asked.

"She said she's just following orders." He said his voice didn't sound nearly as nervous as I thought it'd be.

"Ok, I know from who, but that still doesn't make any sense; I mean, he's dead. I killed him." I was confused. Why would she want to kill me so badly? She had no reason; hell, I didn't even know her.

"She says you killed her dad," he explained.

My face fell. Over the years, I haven't killed that many people, so there weren't a lot of people it could've been. Over the years, I think I've killed maybe six people, including the guy who shot me only a few days before.

"Do you have a name?" I asked nervously.

"She said it was Duron or something."

My stomach dropped, and I could feel my world spinning. I understand now. She was his daughter, and that's why she hated me; she wanted revenge.

"Why is she sending people to do her work? Why not do it herself?" I asked.

"With the reputation you have, I'm really not surprised. Would you want to face you?"

In my sick brain, his words boosted my ego. I liked having people scared of me; it made me feel in control.

That seemed to be an effect of not taking my meds. On a normal day, I was the one who was afraid of everyone; I was a nervous wreck, scared of everything. I knew that my medications made me down and dampened my mood, but they were necessary, so I didn't go out and kill everyone.

"Where is she?" I asked.

He visibly squirmed and cringed away from me.

"I need you to tell me." I advised.

"She has some sort of underground room; she's filled it with guns, so many that she could probably pass one out to the entirety of Berkeley Hills."

"And where does she have the money for all of those guns? If she was this rich, then she would have her name everywhere."

It is true that Berkeley hills is a small town; if a person were so rich, their name would be plastered all over magazines or billboards for no actual reason, just because they had a big title.

"She's working with someone," he said, looking at the floor. He was nervous again.

"Who?" I asked impatiently, and he was getting on my nerves with his short, non-answers.

"You probably won't know him, but his name's Gerard." He said.

My stomach dropped once again. "Argent..? Gerard Argent..?" My voice was shaky, and fear ripped through me.

I knew of Gerard. I had never met him directly, but I had been told about him by members of my pack.

I knew about everything he had done, and I knew how he'd screwed over the town many times.

"Do you know where her 'room' is?"

"Not exactly, but I can get some information for you." He said cautiously, I knew that he didn't want to tell me but he seemed to want to help.

"And why would you just offer to do that? I mean, I would've made you anyway, but why did you offer?" I asked.

"I don't really... like what's happening. She is controlling everyone and twisting her way into their minds, and I don't like the blood or the death. I just... I just want it to be done." He said.

"Alright, well, you should go now; I need some time to figure things out. I swear to God, if you tell anyone what you've told me, I will shred you to pieces, got it?" I asked as I opened the door for him to leave.

He stood up and walked toward the door. "What do I tell Monroe? What if she asks where I was?"

"You'll figure it out." I said as I patted him on the shoulder as he walked out.

He walked out, and I closed the door behind him. I listened to his footsteps as he practically ran out of the building.

I exhaled, knowing that I would have to go back home.

Cahlia

Once inside, I put my helmet on the ground and peered around after opening the front door.

Hearing sounds from the kitchen, I let out a sigh.

After the evening I had, I was reluctant to confront Lucas.

Now that Nicko was gone and I was alone in my room for the remainder of the day, I wanted some time to gather my thoughts and carefully consider my next steps. I had no idea how Monroe was connected to my past or why she would want to kill me, but Nicko had completely disrupted my world.

Even though I was eager to get home, I stayed at the hotel for just a little while because I had things to do. I slept there once more but departed almost as soon as I got up.

Hearing my own gasp as it came out of my mouth, I entered the kitchen. With a cup by her side and the newspaper in her hands, my mother was seated on the kitchen island.

Her appearance surprised me more than anything.

I see that you have returned. I began to think that you were no longer a resident here." Grasping her cup, she took an ostentatious sip, saying something bitter.

"Stayed at a friend's house." As I reached for a bottle of Coke from the refrigerator, I murmured inanely.

"Hm." Disinterested, she seemed to say.

"Besides, you're the one who's never home." Silently enough to make my point without being overbearing, but not so quiet that she would misunderstand me, I said.

"Excuse me?" Her tone conveyed horror.

"You heard me."

"You have no right to talk to me like that. I put a roof over your head, food on the table, and you have the audacity to talk to me like that." She yelled.

Back then, I knew I had done it.

To be fair, I was ready for a fight at that time because my medications were making me reticent and overly sensitive, but at least I could talk to her about anything without feeling guilty.

You're not really needed here, and if you moved on, we could survive and even thrive without you. not returning home and having to cope with this stuff. You took me away for a quarter of my life and left me with nothing; you did not even provide a roof over my head. Well done, mom; that was a really wonderful job." My mother looked like she had smoke coming out of her ears by the time I finished my speech, but I was almost grinning.

In my house, you're not going to speak to me that way! Simply put, you're a slut." I could see she had been waiting to say it, but she hesitated. I suppose it was just her chance, and I could tell she relished the chance.

Now, you're going to screw me for caring, aren't you? I made sure Lucas was dressed and ready for school, fed him lunch, and even obtained a job at nine years old to help pay for food-the only person in the world who understood and loved me-while you were passed out on the couch." Though not out of sadness but rather out of anger, I almost had tears in my eyes. I genuinely wanted to kill her, but I also knew that Lucas would never forgive me.

"You aren't taking your meds, are you?" It kind of irritated me that she accused me and always knew when I had gone off them.

"They're bullshit." Gazing down, I saw the ground.

They support you. You must have them. She was a serious person when it came to my medications, despite her being a nasty bitch.

How come you are concerned? You seem uninterested in other aspects of my life, so why is this? It was uncomfortable in a lot of ways to see the softening of her face as I gazed up at her again.

"Because... because I don't want you to end up like your father." Dragging the last of her drink down the drain, she spoke as she got to her feet.

Before I could say another word, she picked up her luggage and was out of the house.

It hit me like a train what she said. When it came to regulations and penalties, she was always tougher than Lucas. Could it have been for this reason?

To my great annoyance, Lucas was standing at the foot of the stairs wearing a pair of joggers when I left the kitchen and placed the unopened bottle of Coke down on the counter.

He said, a little uncomfortably, "Hey."

"I have shit to do." He seemed to be following me. I murmured as I shoved by him and headed up the stairs.

With me, he followed me into my room.

"What was that about?" he inquired.

Glancing back at him, I looked. "As if you didn't hear it already."

He began, "Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure."

"I don't want to talk about it." Turning around, I looked at my bed before interrupting.

All the cushions were in their proper places, and the coverings had been sorted. After realizing that my medicines were on the nightstand, I debated between grabbing them and throwing them out the window.

"Are you coming to school today?" He enquired?

"Wait, what day is it?" My phone hadn't been on for days when I asked in a startled manner.

It's Friday, he said. "Are you going to come to school?" Upon my failure to respond, he inquired.

"No."

Regarding Ivan and Trevor, though, Their desire is to"

"I don't want to talk about Trevor," said I.

And that's when it hit me-since Trevor had visited me in my room, I hadn't given him a second thought. Though I didn't have time for diversions, I ignored the rush of remorse that overwhelmed me.

Well, all right. How about lacrosse? On Monday, there will be announcements.

"Announcements for what?" With a second look, I asked.

"To see if you get to join the team."

"Oh, I don't really have time for that right now; I have a shitload of things to do." said I.

All right, may I help in some way? Additionally, Rainier? Let go; you don't need to handle everything on your own. He made the offer.

"This is my shit; I have to clean it, alright?" Gazing through my hair with my fingers, I muttered.

With a puppy's expression, he ignored my words and looked at me as though I had just reprimanded him.

"Can you tell Andy to meet me down the alley by the library at 11, please?" I asked, and I did.

"Can't you do it, considering this is you, 'Shit'?" "I deserved it," he answered icily.

"Please, Li, I need to do this, and I need her," I said.

With a nod.

"Thank you," I uttered.

He was looking at me sadly, and then he was gone from my room. My blood seemed to boil, and I was suddenly filled with rage for no apparent reason. The argument with my mother and Lucas attempting to get inside my company are probably the main contributing factors.

From my bedside table, I retrieved the tablets and held them up, staring at them. When too much harm could be done, I removed my fist before it got too tight-a few small dents here and there, nothing major.

As soon as I entered the restroom, I removed the bottle's top, tossed it to the floor, and just stared at the tiny white pills within the orange container. I took a sly look at myself as I ripped the bottle open while standing over the toilet, letting all the pills fall into the water.

Dropping the orange bottle, I flushed the toilet.

It was liberating and made me feel strangely liberated.

I made my way out of Cahlia's room and into mine. After gathering my belongings for school, I took a seat on my bed and held my phone.

Staring at Ivan's name on my screen, I clicked on his contact. I wasn't even sure if he would be interested in talking to me about all of this hair with Cahlia and now my mother.

Though, to be fair, he and Cahlia are sort of friends; why should he have to deal with it after I pushed him away? It's not his problem.

I believed that Ivan would be the most ready to give me a lift to school, so I decided to phone nonetheless.

I bit nervously at the skin around my nails while holding my phone up to my ear. After the third ring, he answered.

"Hello?" With a voice still heavy with sleep, he uttered it.

Although I had woken him up from sleep, I felt a little guilty, but I really needed this favor.

"Hey, it's Lucas. I have several things I need to discuss with you. Could you please provide me with a ride to school?" By the time I finished speaking, my finger was raw from asking the question.

"Yeah, of course." It sounded like he needed a wake-up call right away. "When should I pick you up?"

"I'm ready when you are."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." I heard him get out of bed, the man added.

"All right. I'm grateful that you provided this.

"Yeah, no problem."

"See you soon."

"Bye." After saying that, he hung up the phone.

I knew that Cahlia had already left when I heard the downstairs door close. Why she had to go so early is beyond me.

I spent a few minutes doing little things while I waited around, and then I heard a horn go off outside.

I went to the door, picked up my bag, and swung it over my shoulder. I turned back and shut it behind me. I emerged from the yard and made my way to Ivan's sleek black automobile.

With a brief sigh, I pulled open the door and took a seat. Shutting the door, I turned to face Ivan.

He said, "Hey," with a worn-out expression.

"Sorry to wake you up." I muttered.

To be fair, he needed to wake up promptly because we had school today.

"It's alright." He stated. After a few minutes of silence, an unpleasant mood began to develop between us. "What did you want to talk about?" With anxiety, he inquired.

"Can we talk about it on the way to Travis's?"

"Why Travis's?"

"Well, I need to find Andy, and I figure that Irene would be the best way to do that, and we need Travis to find Irene." I gave an explanation.

"It seems oddly complicated." We rolled down the street after he got the car started. "Why do you need to see Andy?"

"Well, Cahlia came home this morning, and then she had this huge fight with our mom, and then she kind of had a go at me, and then she said to tell Andy to meet her in the alley near the library." I stated.

"Why are you doing this if she 'had a go at you'?" He enquired.

"Because she's my sister, and I love her."

It took him a minute to get back to talking. "Do you love me?" Silently, he inquired.

I turned to face him, but he wouldn't turn to face me. "Of course I do..."

"But you're mad at me." He said.

"I still adore you, though. I'm not sure where I am at the moment, but I need some time to work things out with Cahlia before I can concentrate on anything else."

"You know, it isn't your responsibility to look after Cahlia." He stated.

She was my sister, even though I knew he was correct. I felt obligated to support her in the same way that she had supported me for so long.

"She's my sister; I just want to get her back on her meds and make sure she's ok." I could tell he knew what I was saying when I said it.

"What makes you think that Travis will know where they are staying?" He enquired.

"Well, he has a better chance than we do, plus it's a quick trip before we go to school; it shouldn't take long."

After he gave his okay, we headed to Travis's loft.

Arriving there was not too difficult for us.

I looked up at the building as we stepped out of the automobile. We all believed Travis had moved on from Berkeley Hills until a few weeks ago, but in reality, he had stayed there the entire time.

We descended the steps and entered after realizing the door was already open.

Travis had a book open in front of him as he stood in front of the table. We were shocked to see Irene monitoring her brother while seated on the round staircase.

"What do you want?" Travis asked without looking away.

"We were actually looking for Irene." Ivan responded.

Leaning her back against the table to face us, she got up and walked up to Travis. It seemed to me that she hadn't received the news yet.

"Umm, can you tell us where Andy might be?" I enquired.

"At home?" "Why, where else should she be?" she surmised.

"Have you seen her in the last few days?" Ivan enquired.

Travis closed the book firmly and pivoted to confront us. "Ok, what's going on?" He enquired.

"Well, you know about the new pack, and I'm assuming you know that Irene is part of it." I spoke, and he gave a nod. "Well, we sort of know who the alpha is."

A murmured "Holy fuck" from Irene.

"It's my sister, Cahlia." As I said, Travis's expression fell.

"She told you?" Irene queried.

"Well, kind of, but only because she got shot." Irene was about to complain, but I cut her off. "She's fine; it appears that French people found her. I'm not sure. I gave her a headshake. "I still don't know everything yet."

"Ok, but where is she now, and why do you need Andy?" She enquired.

I looked at Travis and said, "Well, this won't make any sense to you, but she's gone off her meds."

"Oh sh*t," she exclaimed.