The Code Of The Alpha

When I went to bed that night, I tossed and turned for hours. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the face of the man who had kidnapped those girls. My mind had captured the image of him standing over me, preparing to strike.

It was all I could see.

I tried my hardest to glue my eyes closed, to think happy thoughts-but I couldn’t. I finally sat up in the bed, feeling defeated.

Throwing back the covers, I got out of the bed and opened the bedroom door. I slowly walked downstairs, trying to stay quiet. I stood outside Luca’s bedroom for a few moments, hesitating.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on the door knob and turned it. Once in the bedroom, I could see the outline of Luca’s body sleeping in his bed.

I closed the door behind me and walked towards the bed quietly. Gingerly, I pulled back the covers and slid into the bed next to Luca.

I fought against getting closer to him.

With my head against the pillow, I took a few moments to breathe in his scent and immediately felt the anxiety melt from my mind.

I was on the verge of sleep when Luca turned on his back. The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was the way he stared at the ceiling above him, wide awake.

I slept through the night peacefully. When I woke up, I realized why.

Luca’s arms were wrapped tightly around my body, one around my waist and the other around my shoulders. His chin was resting on my head, my face nuzzled into his neck.

I was still for a few minutes, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily. His skin was warm under my touch as I traced the curvature of his bicep with my left hand, slowly dragging my fingertips to his chest.

“That tickles.”

His deep voice startled me and I pulled my hand away immediately. I whispered a quick apology, glad he couldn’t see the blush that burned in my cheeks.

We were silent for a few moments before I tried to roll over in a bid to escape Luca’s embrace. He hesitated for a moment before releasing me.

“Couldn’t sleep upstairs last night?” He asked, his voice deep.

I shook my head as I stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at him.

“I couldn’t get him out of my head,” I admitted.

“Your dad?”

I shook my head again, surprised that I hadn’t thought of him in a few days.

“That man who took those girls,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Luca rolled over on his back, joining me to stare at the ceiling.

“You don’t have anything to worry about now,” he sighed.

I turned my head to look at him

Luca looked almost remorseful.

“I’m sorry you had to kill him,” I said.

He turned to look at me.

“I don’t regret it.”

We maintained eye contact for a few moments before I turned my gaze away.

“Do you wish I did?” He asked.

“Would it make you feel better?”

I took a deep breath.

“That’s just it… I feel bad because I’m glad you killed him.”

I felt my throat tighten.

“He would’ve killed me,” I whispered.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to blink away the tears that burned behind my eyes. One rolled from the corner of my eye, down the side of my face, and disappeared into the pillow I laid on.

We were silent for a moment before Luca reached out and pulled me back into him, this time pressing the entire length of his body against mine.

He held me tightly.

I gulped the knot in the back of my throat. I found myself holding onto him around his torso, as though my life were still in immediate danger. Luca brushed a hand through my hair, holding my head against

his chest.

We stayed like that for a few moments as my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t tell if I was about to have an anxiety-induced panic attack or a proximity-related heart attack.

We were so close.

I heard the front door open and close outside the bedroom door.

“If that’s Bates, there will be another death that I won’t be remorseful for,” Luca commented.

I couldn’t help but laugh as Luca released me from his grip and sat up in the bed. There was a slight knock on the bedroom door, giving Luca barely enough time to cover my half-naked body with the duvet before it opened.

“Oh shit, I keep forgetting she’s here,” Bates said stopping mid stride as he walked in.

“You act like I had an open door policy before she was,” Luca retorted, getting out of bed.

“Get out.”

Bates looked at me and smiled awkwardly before backing out of the room.

“We’ll be in the kitchen,” he said before disappearing back down the hallway.

We?

Luca walked into his closet and came out a few moments later dressed in a sweatshirt and gym shorts. He threw a pair of sweatpants onto the bed.

“Cover your ass before you walk out there.”

“My ass is too cute to be covered.” I retorted.

“Bates doesn’t need to know that.”

He winked before leaving the room.

Rolling out of bed a few moments later, I stepped into the over-sized sweatpants and rolled them up at my waist several times so they’d stay put.

I used the band on my wrist to try and put my hair into a bun, but huffed as I realized I couldn’t while my hand was still injured. I let my hair fall back down and sighed.

Walking out of the room and down the hallway to the living room, I saw Bates, Blaine and Lincoln standing in the kitchen as Luca made his coffee.

Wordlessly, I walked over and took the kettle off the stove and put it into the sink to be filled with water.

The men had grown quiet since I walked into the kitchen and I turned to face them.

“Don’t mind me,” I said.

I put the kettle on the stove and lit the burner.

Proceeding to open a tea bag with my teeth, I placed it into the mug as I waited for the water to warm up.

When they didn’t continue with their conversation, I turned back around.

“I can leave if you’d like…” I said slowly.

Blaine wouldn’t look at me. Bates kept his gaze fixed outside the kitchen window and Lincoln was staring at the countertop in deep thought.

I turned to Luca, who was slowly drinking his coffee.

“What’s going on?”

He placed his mug onto the countertop and crossed his arms. “Your dad’s been reaching out,” he said.

Bates let out a scoff.

“That’s an understatement.” he muttered under his breath.

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking between the two of them.

Luca looked at Lincoln and nodded.

“Play the last one,” he said.

Lincoln pulled his phone from his back pocket and tapped at the screen for a moment before laying his phone down on the countertop.

I gulped as I heard my father’s voice spill from the phone’s speakers.

“I know she’s with him. I know he’s ruined her. I know he’s hurt her. I know she’s miserable. I’m miserable. Is she still alive? I need to know she’s still alive. I know he’s hurt her. He’s the worst thing that could happen to her. He’s probably killed her already. Is she dead? She’s ruined. He ruined her.”

The line went somewhat silent for a few moments as his rambling stopped, but I could still hear his labored breathing.

“He’s ruined her,” he said again, slowly this time.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill her. She’s ruined. I need to know she’s still alive. I know he’s beat her. Has he killed her? It’s probably good if he’s killed her. She’s ruined. I’Il kill him. He’s beat her. I’ll

kill her.”

The kitchen drowned in silence after I heard the beeping of the voicemail as it stopped.

The temperature felt like it dropped twenty degrees.

“There are fifteen more,” Lincoln said to me.

“And that’s a tame one,” Bates said, lifting his eyebrows.

I felt my heart beating violently against my rib cage as I sat down in a chair, feeling like my legs would give out any second.

I gulped as I looked up at Lincoln.

“He called you?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“Kind of. We use a switchboard for everyone in the pack. We have our own area code so whenever a call comes in for someone in that area code, an operator filters the call and records it. I set your phone up on this system whenever I connected you to the VPN.”

“So who did he call?”

“You.”

The kettle began to whistle and I couldn’t do anything but stare at it from where I sat. Luca walked over and cut out the burner. Lifting the kettle from the stovetop, he poured the steaming water into the mug before placing it down in front of me.

“Where is your phone?” Luca asked.

“Upstairs,” I answered, still staring at the mug.

Lincoln wordlessly walked around us. I heard him begin to ascend the staircase.

“Have you called him since that day at the meeting house?” Luca asked.

I shook my head.

We were silent for a few moments before I heard Lincoln coming back downstairs. I looked up to see him scrolling through the phone.

“Eighty-seven missed calls and sixteen voicemails,” he said, handing the phone to Luca.

“Are those the same voicemails you listened to?” I asked him. Lincoln nodded.

“I wouldn’t recommend listening to them, if I were you.”

“She won’t have the chance to,” Luca said, handing the phone back to Lincoln.

“Get rid of it.”

Lincoln took the phone.

“Anything you need off of here? Pictures? Passwords? Contacts?”

I nodded.

“All of that.”

He put the phone in his other pocket and nodded at Luca and I before leaving the kitchen and walking out the front door.

“I’Il get him to order you a new phone,” Luca said.

I nodded again, a new phone the furthest thing from my mind. Although the room had grown quiet, I still heard my father’s voice ringing in my ears. His circular and incoherent rambling made my skin crawl.

“It’s probably good if he’s killed her. She’s ruined. I’ll kill him He’s beat her. I’ll kill her.”