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.