Sold

I knew never to make Bill wait or his clients and so with a haste that had me tripping over my clothes, I stripped off and showered in record time to make sure I no longer smelled of sweat and went to choose something warm to wear. My bedroom was light green, held a bed with white bedding, and a desk housing magazines and horror and romance second-hand novels. Once I was dressed, I slipped on my brown contacts and a black wig tumbled down my back, I looked at myself in the mirror anxiously. I looked horrible. I bit my lip and sighed. It was time to go.

When I entered the kitchen Bill looked up at me over the rim of his glasses and shook his head in disapproval. His black hair went past his heavy shoulders and fatty back. He was a large man with no neck at all.

"Finally, you're here," Bill said with a grimace that made his face look larger than it was. "Don't you think you're going to be late, don't want to disappoint my best client yet now, do we?" He took off his glasses, folded the newspaper he was reading in half and looked at his wrist watch. He made a scowling face. He didn't want to be in the house any longer.

I stopped the flow of air to my lungs, the sudden deprivation of oxygen making my head swim. "We can go."

"Bill?" Jennie said from the doorway. She was an inch shorter than him. "Did you see my black and gold earnings?" she threw a suspicious look at me.

I rolled my eyes. When had she ever seen me wearing jewelry or make-up or tight-fitting clothes?

Bill smiled at Jennie and wordlessly offered to help her with the necklace she was struggling to put on. "Check on the dressing table, I think I saw them there."

Jennie had on a tight dress that made her knees kiss and heels that would make me fall within the first step.

"Jen, don't forget to drop my suit off to the dry cleaners," Bill said as he took the last sip of his black coffee and grabbed his car keys.

They kissed goodbye and I looked away, trying not to make a gagging sound, shivering in disgust as I shouldered my purse and grabbed an apple. "Jen—mom, get some cereal, cheese and we're running low on sugar, oh and don't forget milk, we ran out yesterday. Take care of the electricity bill as well. There's a red meat special at —"

"Wait," Jennie interrupted. She dug in her red purse for a pen and paper. "Here..." She slid the paper across the table. "Write it all down while Bill heats the car."

The car ride with Bill bothered me. His cold eyes made me uncomfortable, the way he swept them over my body. It didn't matter that I was cuddled up in a fleece jacket that had weathered the storm and acid washed jeans, it felt like he could see through the fabric. We didn't talk to each other, we never bothered with small talk. Eventually, to my immense relief, we made it to the client's house. It was a small, white house that was different from most of the town's Victorian style houses.

I stumbled to the front lawn, still worried about the car ride. A man, bald with a mustache, was waiting with the door opened. He had a body that looked like it was on the help of steroids and his black eyes were vacant of any emotion. At my approach he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his expression unreadable.

"I'm Anton. I hired you for my friend." I tried to hide my sigh of relief. Of course, I already knew who he was, the Beta of our pack.

"Is he inside?" My voice sounded better than I felt. This man was intimidating.

He nodded and took an impatient breath. "I have to warn you though, he doesn't take crap, he is very... angry and... dangerous when he gets furious. Well, he got help for it but—. Just don't do anything stupid that will push him over the edge. We clear?"

I exhaled sharply. That's okay, I reasoned with myself, at least it's not Bill. No one could be worse than Bill. Right?

"What if he hits me?" My voice sounded hoarse.

He took another breath and I thought I saw an emotion cross his face. Was that irritation?

"Let's just hope it won't be enough to kill you."

I gulped. "Do... do you really think he would kill me?"

He hesitated, unwilling to answer. "He is not afraid to take a life for what he believes to be right. His hatred for... er... well... it's justified. He might view you as part of what he despises."

I flinched at his words. "Well, that's...um, wow," I whispered, my voice cracking.

He stared at me coldly. "You think you can handle that?"

With a roll of nausea, I realized I didn't have a choice, it was either this or my days here, or anywhere, were likely to be numbered.

"This is my job, right?" I laughed, but it came out shaky, not at all the confident, brave persona I wanted to present.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, his voice indifferent, his cold eyes watching me closely, he turned and opened the door.

I sighed and followed him into the plain white kitchen. He ushered me towards the lounge.

"I'm Rose," I lied, looking around, willing my heart to settle down.

"Rose," Anton said. "Should I get you anything to drink?"

My eyes went behind the closed-door where I could hear a stream of profanities and my almost calm heart pounded again.

I looked back at Anton, who was watching me with a chilling stare, waiting for me to answer. I had never seen a man with such terrifying eyes in my whole life. I don't know what terrified me more, the angry voice on the other side of the door or the bottomless black pits staring at me. I suspected the latter.

No, I wanted to say. I didn't trust them not to drug me. They did that to girls like me, girls who entertained men for money. But I got the sense this was not an offer I was meant to pass.

"Cup of coffee, please," I finally mumbled. "Don't even count the spoons of sugar. The bitter the better."

Anton got to his feet. "At your service, madam," he said sarcastically. He got two cups from the sink, rinsed them off and filled one with tea and the other with coffee.

"Here," he said.

I wrapped both my hands around the cup and watched as Anton handed me a teaspoon and the sugar bowl.

"Thanks."

Anton prattled about the harsh weather outside, how I was supposed to make his friend feel good for the night, how the man easily got mad, how much they were going to pay me — a ridiculous amount at that and a peg of guilt washed over me. Anton went on, I didn't try to keep up.

My breath caught when the man walked out of his bedroom. It was the Alpha and there were rumours that he'd already found his mate but she'd rejected him. He moved like a wild cat. He was silent. The strands of brown hair swept over his eyes teasingly — it was medium in length, naturally wavy and intentionally messy. He leaned a bit on the tall side, he was lean and muscular all at once. He had a closely trimmed beard that simulates three days of stubble.

He looked at me long enough to get my pulse racing. I looked away first, my cheeks rosy. There were only two reasons one could look at an Alpha in the eye, first to challenge him in a ritual combat for the throne or to invite him to your bed and since I didn't want to do niether, I made sure to keep my eyes firmly on the ground. He silently sat next to Anton, his gaze sweeping over me in the strangest way.

The Alpha is the first in a set of Octuplets.

"Hello," I mumbled shyly.

He acknowledged me with a nod and then I became transparent to him. Instinctively, my gaze travelled to his face, extreme in its beauty — unusual red lips, rosy cheeks, pale complexion. He was sinfully stunning. Magical, really. The stillness. The confidence. The power.

I didn't have to know him to be able to tell that he was ruthless and dangerous. It was something I could sense. And the sense was that he was more dangerous than anything Bill. His eyes were a complicating blue.

He didn't seem the type to hire strippers for weird sexual motives, though I wasn't ruling it out as yet, but if I was right, why did he agree to Anton's decision to hire me? Maybe he was gay.

I sat with my hair covering my face. The two men were glaring at each other and I got away with staring at the beautiful one, the one who'd just entered. Although they weren't speaking to each other, I saw a sense of understanding touch Anton's eyes as though he understood just what the Alpha was thinking. They were probably talking through their pack line.

When the Blackberry on the glass table rang, I sighed in relief. Their pissing contest was driving me nuts. Anton got to his feet and took the call outside.

I noticed the Alpha balled his fist so hard his knuckles turned white, his jaw tightened and he turned to look at me. I bit my bottom lip hard.

"Do you have to do that?" he said. It was the kind of voice you'd normally hear in a classic country record; hard, raspy and yes held the disorienting mix of husky and melody.

I knew exactly what he was talking about. Lip biting. A nervous trait of mine. "Only when I'm anxious."

His expression was unmoved, irritated, but when he spoke his voice was calm, precise. "Well... stop, it's annoying."

I nodded helplessly. I could hear the blood pounding faster than normal behind my ears.

"Rose, is it not?" he asked. “Short for Rosemary?”

How did he know my name? He hadn't spoken to Anton since he walked in.

Unwilling I turned to face him again and exhaled sharply, and I had to secretly catch my breath. He was leaning towards me, eyes intent with curiosity.

I nodded again.

He frowned staring at something on my sides, that’s when I noticed my hands were balled into fists. He looked like he wanted to smile.

“You want to punch me.” He was bemused, his distant eyes melting, a one-sided dimple on his cheek. He studied me with an intensity that was overwhelming.