The Alpha's Property

*** Room Attendant ***

I work in this hotel on the weekends to help with my university fees. The job is hard and underpaid but sometimes the guests leave nice presents and tips.

My last room of the day is the one with the cute guy who made a pass at me a few days ago. I would’ve said yes but my boss was standing nearby, and I couldn’t be seen having a quick fumble with one of the guests. Hopefully we can pick up where we left off, hence the reason why I left his room until last.

I quickly check my appearance: my hair is tied up in a French knot, I pinch my cheeks to add a bit of innocent colour to them and I add a quick spritz of perfume off my cleaning trolley. Lastly, I undo the top button on my blouse to ensure my ample cleavage is unmissable.

I knock on the door and there is no answer so I knock again. When there’s still no response, I use my fob to open the door and shout “Housekeeping” when I step in.

The smell is what hits me first. It’s like raw sewage, and the bile from my stomach threatens to rise into my mouth.

“Hello. Is anyone in here?” I shout into the room. I notice the light is on in the bathroom and the door is open so I quickly pop my head in to see if there is a problem with the facilities causing the smell.

The first thing I see is the pile of human faeces on the floor. Then I see his feet. It’s the cute guy from a few days ago, except he doesn’t look so cute anymore. His bloated, lifeless body hangs mockingly from the shower rail. His face is covered in broken blood vessels. His eyes are bleeding and there is dried blood around his nose and ears too.

I scream as I leave the room. I scream and scream until I am given a shot in the leg by a doctor who says I am in shock and traumatised.

I always thought this job was more trouble than it was worth.

*** Mrs Jefferson ***

The doorbell rings and I put down my feather duster. I am not expecting company today and my heart sinks in case it is Ryan, my son.

Through the glass in the door, I can see the outline of at least two people, and I am taken by surprise when I realise it is two police officers and Melanie Storey.

I have known Melanie since she was a little girl, her family lived on the same estate as we did, and I know she is Ryan’s lover.

After opening the door, I look at them, waiting for them to talk. I know there is a warrant out for Ryan’s arrest, they came here looking for him a few days ago and I have to say I am ashamed and appalled by my son’s behaviour.

He was always a difficult child. My husband, Ryan’s father, said we needed to get him serious psychiatric help and, in my desperation to see good in my child, I had stopped him. He was just a boy; he would grow out of it, I told him.

Now I have to hold up my hands and accept that I am as much to blame as Ryan. I enabled and facilitated him into becoming the horrible monster that he is.

It breaks my heart to not have a relationship with my granddaughter and the way he treated his wife so despicably has me writhing in shame that he was my child and that I raised him. He came from me.

“Mrs Jefferson, may we come in? I’m afraid we have some very bad news for you.”  My first thought is my husband; has he been hurt? But then I remember that Melanie is also there and so it didn’t make sense.

It has to be about Ryan.

“Yes, please come in, I will call my husband now.”

Melanie hugs me as she comes in and I can see her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are tearstained. I can’t help it; I have to know.

“He is dead, isn’t he?” I blurt out. Melanie nods with tears in her eyes.

“Yes, Mrs Jefferson. Ryan was found hanging this afternoon in his hotel room. He had probably been there for hours.” I nod to show I understand. “The police are launching an investigation because of the evidence they found in his room. They think it could have been accidental. It would have been a long and drawn-out death, I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mrs Jefferson.” She ends on a small sob.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know you loved him,” I say to Melanie, but she shakes her head at me.

“I am not crying for him, Mrs Jefferson, I am crying for you. After all, despite everything, he was your son.” My face flames at the reminder that I raised that monster. Perhaps with time I can forget the horrors he did when he was alive. However, nothing can change the fact that I do not feel sad that he is dead.

I feel happy. I feel thankful. I feel relieved.

The police leave after promising they will be back in touch and Melanie whispers that she has some things to tell me and will be in touch too.

Once they are gone, I leave a message for my husband to come home, and then I get down on my knees and pray to God.

I pray to him and thank him for answering my previous prayers. I thank him for finally wiping that waste of space son of mine off this mortal plain.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I repeat over and over again, so great is my gratitude. I prayed for this day for the longest time. I prayed that my son would go to sleep and never wake up. I prayed he would crash his car or die in combat. I dreamed of drowning him.

However, I think I always knew that Ryan would be instrumental in his own downfall. No matter how many people he screwed over and held a grudge against him, he was always his own worst enemy.

I am thankful that this way we are all free from him and there are no repercussions for the people who rightly deserved to be free from him. I hope him doing this to himself gives people the closure of knowing he was beyond any redemption and was full of hate and contempt without any redeeming qualities.

In a way, it’s like the trash took itself out. Hallelujah!

~*~ One Week Later ~*~

*** Sal ***

We had papa’s funeral yesterday. I hated every minute because now I know what he did, and I am so angry at him. My whole family life feels like a big fucking lie and I am finding it hard to come to terms with when mami acts nonchalant about everything and papa is too bloody dead to explain why. Why did he have a mistress and who the hell is this brother who threatens my position?

This past week I have alternated between overwhelming grief and explosive anger, and in the midst of it all is the fact that I have a half brother I know nothing of, not to mention there is someone out there who poisoned my father. As much as I am angry at him, he is still my papa and I want vengeance. I want that twisted bastard’s head on a big fucking stick for poisoning my papa.

Today when I woke up, I went to use the bathroom and got the shock of my life when I saw a flash of bright red blood in my underwear: my period. I wept with sadness that mine and Alejandro’s little bean isn’t yet growing inside me.

Ale held me tight and whispered sweet words into my ear. We will keep trying, we didn’t even get a full month of trying in and it takes a lot of people about a year to conceive.

Ale settled me back into bed with a hot water bottle and a mug of hot tea while he went to the shop to get my ‘ladies essentials’ as he put it: tampons, pads, and copious amounts of chocolate. When he gets back, he changes back into his sweatpants and gets into bed with me, and we watch films and snuggle all day.

How did I ever live without him? I don’t know but now he is mine and we are a team. I know that we can tackle everything life throws at us. Ale has been my crutch through the worst time in my life, he makes me happier, and I feel stronger for having found my other half. I know in the testing times ahead he has my back, and I have his. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

*** Amber ***

My stomach sinks as I hide the envelope that was delivered to me this morning. I don’t want to worry Preston, not yet anyway, but it was my summons to present myself and my evidence to the Werewolf Council to answer the charges of “Unnecessary Force Resulting in Death.” The truth of the matter is I could be facing a big punishment. I face losing Lizzie or considerable time in ‘Silver Chains’, the werewolf prison. They could even take my throat.

On top of worrying about that, I have been avoiding Aiden and his need for answers from our father. I always feel like we are on the back foot when it comes to him. I have managed to put Aiden off confronting him until we have more evidence that he cannot dispute. All this time, I have felt inadequate and abandoned and our mother may not have had a choice in leaving us. I need the truth and I think going in all guns blazing will only feed into my father and his dismissive ways.

Today, Preston and I will be looking after Summer. Since the little girl moved here with her mother, I must be honest and admit I am besotted with her and it’s made me think more about Preston and I starting our own family. Preston says he’s ready, but I am holding back because of the charges I have to face first and because I don’t want to fuck this up like my own mother did. But did she? I was so young when she left that I can hardly remember if she was any good. Is it a genetic thing? Would I be a shitty mum because she was?

I know you’re worried, Red. I know you’ll tell me why when you are ready, just know we are in this together. I love you.

And just like that, I know what will be, will be, because I have the other half of my soul and as long as we have each other, nothing else matters.