Alpha Inmate

She’s so dumbfounded by what he’s done that she can’t even thank him.

She just continues to stare at the papers in disbelief, double-checking to make sure it truly is him.

The picture on his license is eerily similar to the brief glance she had of him the day of the accident.

But she needs to be sure.

Erik accessed every stop light camera between the roads, finding the license plates and tracking each one. He located the vehicle owners, researched hospital records, and did much more than the police bothered to do. Based on the skid marks, the driver was most likely drunk.

“How long did this take you?” She asks finally, absorbing every detail. “Even the police didn’t do this much work.”

Erik did all of this in a week while incarcerated.

“It took too long,” he says. “I wanted to get you the information as soon as possible. Even if…”

She repeats his words, and he clears his throat.

“Even if you didn’t want me.”

She almost scoffs at the absurdity of his statement.

Of course she wants him. Her body calls to him.

Her inner Omega screams for him.

Her heart longs for him.

The only part that’s hesitant is her mind. Her rationale, and everything that allows her to stay in control, is threatened by being near him.

Her shoulder throbs, her gland delicate after the abuse from his mouth.

He could have claimed her there, in the isolated cabin, but he chose not to.

It would have been easier for her if he did. Then she would have no reason to leave his side.

She wonders if, in his own way, he’s offering her a choice.

She squeezes his hand harder.

* * *

Ronald’s home is unkempt, to say the least.

Hidden down a winding road overgrown with weeds, the small trailer has paint chipping on the outside, along with a front lawn with grass as tall as Ellie.

They’re in the middle of nowhere in a town not much larger than Green Woods.

There’s a vehicle parked to the side, and she freezes when she sees a dusty red truck.

“That’s his truck,” she whispers as Erik parks the car. “Holy shit, that’s the truck that hit is.”

He squeezes her hand in reassurance. “So, how do you want to do this, baby?” He flashes her a smirk, his eyes dark and malicious. “You want to do the honors, or me?”

A better person would walk away, she thinks.

A better person could forgive.

But right now, she doesn’t want to be the better person.

“If anything happens to him,” she says slowly. “It’s on my terms. It’s my decision.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin and he growls in approval. “That’s my girl. Lead the way, sweetheart.”

They walk up the porch, the wooden steps rotting and warped. Her mind is clouded with indecision and anxiety. Erik walks behind her, his scent enveloping her. She can feel the pride radiating off him in waves, and she uses his faith in her as strength.

She stops short of the door, a simple wire screen on a faded frame.

The man who killed her mother and sister is behind that door.

The monster who left them to burn alive, and left Ellie to save herself, is mere feet away from her.

As she knocks on the door, she realizes there’s different kinds of monsters.

Erik has a moral compass, however warped it may be.

But Ronald…

He doesn’t even have a heart.

“I’m right here,” Erik whispers behind her. “And whatever happens, I love you.”

His confession stuns her, but she doesn’t have time to process his words as the door swings open. A man with bloodshot eyes stares at her as he shakes on wobbly legs, dressed in a stained white shirt and cargo shorts.

And the stench. He smells like death itself, a combination of tobacco and sickly sweet alcohol with a hint of garlicky body order.

He’s an Alpha, that much is clear. As he senses her Omega essence, he leans down and breathes his putrid breath at her.

“You the girl?” He slurs, his chapped lips forming into a smile. His teeth are filled with the darkness of chewing tobacco, and everything in her wants to run away.

This is the face of a true monster.

But with Erik beside her, she holds on to her courage and speaks. “Are you Ronald?” Her voice is more confident than she feels.

“Yeah. S’me. You’re that Omega. Truck girl.”

Her head is spinning because she realizes he recognizes her.

There’s no doubting it now. He was driving the vehicle that hit her family.

“You killed my mother and sister.” Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she faces the man responsible for her nightmares and self-loathing. He leans against the doorway and sneers.

“You made it out, right? I saw you crawlin’. Figured you’d be fine.”

The more he speaks, the greater her nausea grows. “You saw me get out of the car?”

Erik growls behind her, and the Alpha flicks his glassy eyes towards him. “Sure did. I had to drive away quick, though. Was drinking and all that.”

She’s shaking, but she doesn’t know if it’s from agony or anger.

“You left three women out there to die. And two did.”

Ronald simply shrugs. “Well, no one’s going to believe you. Now get the fuck off my porch, bitch. Before I get my shotgun and shoot the both of you.”

Erik pushes in front of her and launches himself at Ronald with a roar. The men fall to the cheap floor, and she rushes in, yelling. But there’s barely a fight, because Erik is on top of him in a second, a pistol in his hands.

“We don’t have to—” the other Alpha starts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Erik snarls, his pistol pointed at the man’s head. “Say one more fucking word and I kill you right here.”

She’s frozen in shock as she watches Erik takes out a zip tie and strap Ronald’s wrists together. He hauls him up, then shoves him on a ratty, torn grey couch.

“You okay, baby?” Erik asks her softly, gun still trained on Ronald.

“Yes,” she says, walking slowly through the front room. The house stinks of cigarettes and old beer, with butts and cans lining the stained brown carpet. Walls which were once white have years of yellow stains from smoking.

A television with a smashed screen sits in a corner. Microwavable dinners litter the scuffed coffee table.

“You live like this?” She whispers. She looks around a corner to see his shotgun against the back wall.

Erik keeps his gun trained on Ronald, his muscled forearms flexing. “What’s it going to be, baby?”

Ronald begins to cry with pathetic whines. His face turns bright red, and he wails like a toddler.

It infuriates Ellie.

“Shut up,” she hisses, walking until she’s only inches from him, but out of Erik’s line of fire. “And look at me.”

Ugly tears and snot fall down the man’s face, but he obeys.

“You killed everyone I held dear. You ruined my life.” She snarls. “And you showed no remorse. Nothing.”

Erik’s scent changes as his pride for her swells. It fuels her to continue.

“Do you know what I do for a living? I try to see the good in the worst types of people—people that some would say are monsters.”

Ronald sniffles. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”

“What’s my name?” She bellows at him. “If you’re so sorry, did you bother to even look up the name of your victims?” Her screech echoes throughout the house as Ronald sobs.

“I don’t—I don’t—”

“You have no remorse. There’s no saving you. You took two lives then threw away your own to live like this.”

She bites her lip to keep from crying, but her voice chokes up. “No one can help you, Ronald. I hoped I would be able to forgive you, when I knew we were coming here. But there’s not enough forgiveness in the world to save you.”

She takes a step back and looks at Erik, motioning towards his gun. “Give it to me.”

Ronald yells, squirming on the couch and attempting to slide off it.

“I said don’t fucking move!” Erik roars, and his attempts to move stop.

Ellie walks up to him, brushing her hand up his shoulders. “Give it to me, Erik.”

For the first time, Erik seems uneasy. “You sure, baby? There’s no going back from this. Ever.”

Ronald’s cries become background noise to her as she relives the day of the accident.

The glass cutting into her palms.

Her mom’s screams, turning into a warped groan as the flames consume her.

Juliet’s skin melting to the leather of the passenger seat…

“I’m sure.”

Erik cocks the gun and carefully hands it to her. He wraps his hands around hers and maneuvers the pistol slightly until it’s facing perfectly at Ronald’s head.

“You just need to pull the trigger, sweetheart.”

Her hands shake, and Erik holds her steady. “Will you do it with me?” She whispers, and his hands squeeze tighter.

“Of course.” Her finger goes to the trigger and his finger follows. As both their fingers touch the trigger, Erik brings his lips to her ear.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Together, they fire.