Most Alpha Book II (Werewolf Romance), Page 3

  “I said six o'clock,” Nick said, checking his watch. “And here you are sneaking in at 5:59.”

  “Well, I'm not really sneaking,” Carter said, putting the bags down. “I came in through the front, and not very quietly. But I'm here now.”

  “If you're not fifteen minutes early, you're late,” Nick sneered. “You’re supposed to be Alpha dogs. You know that. So, do you have the shit?”

  “Yes,” Carter said. “I got the gloves, the thermals, the masks, and the night vision goggles that I spent seventy-five freaking dollars on.”

  Nick snatched the goggles from him. “Those would be mine,” he said. “Thanks. Now, everyone get a pair of gloves, change into your thermals, and meet me in the truck.” Clinton and Scott went to the bags to get their things, and the three pledges did as they were told.

  The guys wore matching black thermal shirts, black jeans, and black gloves. Each of them clung to his ski mask as Nick drove them down a dimly lit street behind the university. Scott sat up front while Carter and Clinton rode in the bed.

  “Alright,” Nick said as he put the truck in park. “When Derrick calls me we're going to go down to the park by the math building. He's going to tell me which way she is going so we can get in the right position. Simple. Then jump out and grab her if you can. I’ll tie her up. No over-the-top shit. We're going to make this quick and easy.”

  Scott nodded. “Right, right.”

  “I feel like I'm about to go rob a bank,” Clinton said as he put his ski mask on.

  Carter looked at the mask in his own hands. “This is so stupid,” he said.

  “We've got to do it, though,” said Clinton.

  “She isn't even smart enough to know if she's getting kidnapped,” Carter said. “This is so pointless.”

  After about a few minutes of silence, Nick's phone buzzed in the cup holder. “What's up, man?” he said.

  “Hey, man,” Derrick said on the other line. “We just got out. Um. She's going in the direction toward her dorm.”

  “Alright, keep an eye on her,” Nick said. He hung up and started the truck. “She's around the corner. Let's go!”

  The guys hid behind some shrubs as they watched Adrian. She meandered down the sidewalk, busy with something apparently very interesting on her phone. They waited until she was almost up on them before making a move.

  “Go!” Nick whispered, motioning his hand for them to move out.

  Scott jumped out in front of Adrian. She let out a halfway scream and tried to turn around and run in the opposite direction. Carter jumped out and blocked her way.

  “Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help!”

  Scott lunged at her and grabbed for her arm. He had two fingers on her elbow when her purse made contact with his face, sending her inhaler to the concrete. Scott fell to a knee, grabbing his eye in pain. She moved around him and started running in the direction toward her dorm.

  From behind the bushes, Nick motioned Clinton to go help. “Go!” he whispered.

  Clinton leaped out of the bushes and dashed after Adrian. He was just a few paces behind her when his toe caught a bump in the sidewalk and sent him flying face-forward onto the ground. Carter rolled his eyes and started jogging after their victim. Nick growled and slapped the ground then darted out after Adrian. He was rapidly transforming. The afternoon’s clouds had disappeared into the evening. The night’s sky was particularly clear and revealed a full moon.

  “Help!” she shrieked. “Somebody help me!” She tried to run harder, but started coughing and had to slow down. She dredged forward a step at a time, but could not seem to catch her breath.

  Nick gained speed as he got closer. His fangs grew with the anticipation. With every step, his snout protruded more, his eyes glossed over, the white fur patched in his skin. Adrian put her hands on her knees in a desperate attempt to get some air and looked back in sheer terror as Nick rammed into her. The tackle forced her face to the cement with a loud crack.

  “Yo!” Clinton and Carter yelled in unison as the guys jogged over to Nick.

  Nick pulled himself off Adrian and started heaving her up. “Come on,” he growled to the guys in half-wolf form. “Help me out.” The guys stared motionless at her bloodied face.

  “I don't think she's breathing,” Scott said. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

  Nick looked down at Adrian as he weighed his options. The others were slowly transforming as well. Scott’s face was covered in brown fur; Carter’s fangs and snout were already showing. “Forget it,” he finally mumbled, dropping her back to the ground. “Let's go!”

  The pack took off running toward the truck. Carter looked back at Adrian. She was sprawled out so unnaturally on the sidewalk, blood on her face and on the ground beneath her head. He hesitated to stare at her for a moment, then joined his brothers at the truck.

  “Yo,” Clinton said.

  “Dude,” Scott sighed.

  “MAN, WHAT THE FUCK!” Carter growled, hitting the side of the truck which put a large dent in it.

  “Calm down, man,” Nick said with a hint of panic in his voice. “Calm down.”

  “WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!” Carter continued. “We can't just leave her there!”

  “I'm not going back over there,” said Scott.

  “Me neither,” Clinton chimed in.

  “And you're not either, Carter,” Nick ordered.

  “SHE COULD BE DEAD!” Carter raged.

  “Yeah,” Nick said. “And if we go back over there, it's just going to lead to more problems.”

  “MORE PROBLEMS? THIS IS SOMEONE'S LIFE!” Carter hoped that if he yelled enough, somehow he’d manage to get the gravity of the situation through Nick’s thick skull.

  “STOP TRYING TO BE A HERO, CARTER!” Nick yelled back.

  “Everyone, calm down!” Clinton interrupted. He was the only one not in half-wolf form. Carter’s face began to grow a light gray fur. “Carter is right, man, we have to do something.” Clinton said shaking his head. “This is not right.”

  “You know what?” Nick urged, looking at Clinton. “Maybe it isn't. But everything isn't always going to work out the way you plan it.” He looked around at pledges, making eye contact with each one. “Now, this doesn't leave tonight. We are not going to talk about this to anyone. What happened tonight is going to stay in this night. Alright?! Everything is going to be okay.”

  They hopped in the truck and headed out to a private wood-covered part of town to finish their transformations. The wolves’ evening was spent grazing about in the woods, trying to forget about what they had done. Usually they would spend such time training and getting to know their wolf form better but not tonight. Too much angst was on their minds. Hopefully, their cover wasn’t blown. Hopefully, Adrian survived.

  CHAPTER 4

  Everything was not okay. The news of Adrian's death was all over campus the early the next morning. No matter where anyone went, that was all they heard about: speculation of what might have happened, disbelief that something like that could have happened so close and that anyone could be capable of such a thing. No one could figure out what happened or why it happened.

  Carter knew what had happened. He had been part of it. He could have stopped it. Everywhere he went he was shrouded with guilt, a guilt that was growing as he sat in the dead girl's dorm, comforting her sister.

  “Why?” Jenni sobbed. “Who could do such a thing?”

  Carter pulled her closer to him and tightened his arms around her.

  “Why, why?” Jenni cried with her face in Carter's shirt. “Oh, my God! Why? This isn't fair! Oh, God!”

  “I know, I know,” Carter consoled, putting his hand on the back of her head. He didn't really know. He could not imagine how she was feeling; she had just lost her best friend, her sister, and the shoulder she was crying on was directly responsible. Carter was not sure which was worse, his agony or hers. All he knew was that he would have to deal with it, one way or the other.

  *
**

  The pledges gathered at the frat house with the brothers to complete their initiation. They wanted to be happy, but none of them could manage to muster up any joy. They simply sat around and stared at their toes. Their freshly pressed suits were drenched with perspiration and guilt. Half of them didn’t even have their tie on straight. What was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives felt like the complete opposite.

  Bartley stood up and cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I know that the recent events on campus have everyone in a down mood,” he said. “Carter, my condolences. But tonight we're here to celebrate your crossing over into the Omega Omega Psi brotherhood. Zach?”

  Zach stepped up next to Bartley. “When we call you up, you will light your candle,” he said to the pledges. “This candle symbolizes your new life as a brother of this fraternity. But first, a few words from your pledge master.” He motioned toward Nick.

  Nick remained seated. “If you don't mind,” he said to Bartley and Zach, “can I say my part in private with them?”

  “Sure,” Bartley said, a little confused. “On with ceremonies. First and foremost, the first brother from this 51st class to be initiated is a man we honestly didn't think would make it. We didn't know if he had the fortitude, but he proved us all wrong and showed an undying loyal spirit like none we have ever seen. So, without further ado, Scott, please come up here and light this candle bro.”

  Bartley beamed, and the room clapped slowly as Scott walked up and lit his candle. The black bags underneath his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept since the incident. He barely managed to give Bartley a tiny smile and then stood off to the side.

  “Okay,” Bartley continued. “Number two. This guy is the glue that kept it all together. Sometimes the kind of guy every group needs, but takes for granted. And he’s my favorite vamp. Clinton.”

  There was another slow clap as Clinton lit his candle. “Thank you,” he solemnly said to Bartley and stood next to Scott.

  Zach picked up where Bartley left off. “Number three,” he said. “The guy that we all know and love. He let his actions speak louder than his words.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Derrick!” The applause was even more dismal than before as Derrick went through the motions. The pledge brothers tried to cheer him up by rubbing his shoulders, but their favorite pledge was too far drowned in guilt to enjoy the moment.

  “And finally,” Zach announced, “the guy that may have butted heads with every guy in the fraternity at least a few times, kind of set in his ways, but has a ton of potential once he's on track.” He made a drum roll noise on the table. “Come on, Carter. You know we love you, baby!”

  The guys put more effort and encouragement in their applause for Carter as he was the one most affected by the events of the previous night. His legs trembled as he joined his brothers with his lit candle. His eyes were glazed over as his thoughts drifted beyond the room. This no longer mattered to him. It was all bad now.

  “That's not it,” Bartley said as he revealed a large plate of shot glasses. Each glass was filled to the brim with some sort of burgundy liquid. “Once we all consume this shared blood you officially become the 51st pledge class of Omega Omega Psi! Sunt omnes unum!”

  “Rabbit blood,” Scott whispered to his pledge mates. Clinton grinned at their apprehension. Drinking the symbolic rite of passage would not be a problem at all for him.

  The brothers all toasted and downed their shots in silence. Nick gulped down his glass and helped chase it with a beer. Zach and Bartley were the only two who appeared to be having a good time as they drank their shots and joked back and forth. The rest of the new brothers shared nothing more than a few glances.

  “Alright, guys,” Bartley finally said, laughing at a joke Zach had just told him. “Zach and I are going to get out of here and let Nick give you his little initiation speech.”

  “Congratulations, guys,” Zach said. He waved, and he and Bartley left the dining room.

  “Okay,” Nick said, opening another beer. “I know what you all are going through right now. I know what you all are thinking and, again, Carter, we didn't know this was going to happen. But we have got to deal with it now. Now, this is what we are going to do.” He lowered his voice and looked around at the four new brothers. “The police have a line set up for anonymous tips. That guy from that basketball team, Marquese, Derrick you have a class with him, right?”

  “Nah,” Derrick said. “I told you he has a class upstairs at the same time as me.”

  “I have Algebra with him,” Scott offered.

  “Okay,” Nick said. “We're all going to call in and tell them that we have reasons to believe Marquese did it.”

  The guys stepped back and looked at Nick like he had just sprouted another head.

  “Naw, man,” Clinton said. “No. No, no, no.”

  “What else are we supposed to do?” Nick snapped. “Wait for it to get out? You don't know if someone heard something or not. Now, five against whoever is going to go a long way.”

  “We can't do this,” Clinton replied. “We don't need to frame an innocent man. It doesn't need to get that serious.”

  “Serious?” Nick screeched. “Prison is serious! In case you forgot Clinton, you’re black and a vampire! They’ll lock you up and throw away the key if they find out. Now we all have to be in for this to work. Even you, Carter.”

  Carter looked up from the floor and stared blankly at Nick.

  “Carter,” Nick's voice softened, “I know you're in pain right now, but you have to think of the big picture. Either you do this or we are probably going to end up in prison or worse if they find out what we are. Yes, even you. All of us here had something to do with it. All of us are guilty. Either we get out in front of this or sit back and wait for it to bite us in the ass. Your choice.”

  Carter's eyes started to water. He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. He slammed his glass down onto the table, splashing champagne all over the place, and stormed out.

  “We've got to do it guys,” Scott said. “It's either this or jail. This shit is serious. I can't go to jail dudes.”

  “I'm in,” Derrick shrugged. “I don't like that guy anyways. Clinton?”

  “I guess I really have no choice,” Clinton sighed. “As usual.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Marquese stretched out on his bed and rubbed his eyes. The sun peeked his window a lot lower than it normally did when he woke up. He checked his phone to find that his alarm hadn't gone off yet. Something else had woken him up. He rolled over and put his face in his pillow when someone pounded again on his room door.

  “Are you kidding me? This better be good,” he mumbled. He pushed himself out of bed and put on a pair of pants that had been lying on his chair. He turned the doorknob just as he was buttoning his pants. “Hey, man, isn't it a little early to be bang…” He froze, finding himself staring into the faces of two tight faced, slightly overweight police officers.

  “Hello,” said the thinner of the two. “Are you Marquese Brown?”

  “Yeah,” Marquese said slowly. “Why?”

  “I'm Officer Pettaway with the Pitt County Police Department. This is my partner, Officer James. We need you to come with us.”

  “Hey, man,” Marquese said, putting his hands up. “Whatever this is, I didn't do it.”

  “Sir,” Officer Pettaway said, “we need to bring you in for questioning concerning the murder of Adrian Finch.”

  “Adrian... who? You mean that girl that died on campus?” Marquese took a step back. “Hey, man, you must be looking for someone else. I didn't kill nobody. I don't even know that girl. Y'all need to leave.” He started to shut the door.

  Officer James stopped the door before it shut. “Look, kid,” he said. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “No, man,” said Marquese. “There ain't gonna be no way, because I didn't do anything.” He slammed the door and caught Officer James's hand. James pulled back in pain
. Marquese cursed loudly behind the shut door.

  “Alright, that's it,” Pettaway said. “You alright?”

  “Yeah,” James said, rubbing his hand. “Nothing broken.” He pulled his taser out of the holster. “Let's go.” The officers kicked the door in and wrestled the unwilling Marquese to the ground and into cuffs.

  “What the hell!” Marquese shouted. “You can't do this! You need a warrant or something! Get off of me! Someone help! Police brutality!”

  ***

  TAP. TAP. TAP.

  The steel cuffs clashed on the wood table. Marquese glared at the smug young detective from across him in disgust. His hands were resting on the tabletop still in handcuffs.

  “Where exactly were you that night, Mr. Brown?” the detective asked.

  “I told you seven times already,” Marquese said. “I was in my room playing Playstation. Damn!”

  “You don't sound too sure about that, Mr. Brown.” the detective droned.

  “The hell you mean, I don't sound sure?” Marquese snapped. “How about you? What the hell were you doing Monday night? Because I was minding my own damn business!”

  “Okay, Mr. Brown,” the detective said calmly. “If you did nothing, then why did we receive five anonymous tips linking you to Miss Finch's murder?”

  “I don't know, man,” Marquese said. “These fools is haters.”

  “Alright. So your claim is that some 'player haters' framed you. Is that right?”

  “Exactly!” Marquese sat back in his chair. “Now can I go? I got things to do.”

  “Why?” the detective asked, ignoring his request. “Why would anyone want to frame you? Why would someone take the time and effort necessary to coordinate not one, not two, but five cohesive stories linking you to the crime? Hm?”

  “I don't know, man! These marks is hatin' that I got it like that. Some jealous clowns trying to tear a brother down on the come up. You know how it is man.”

  “No, I can't say that I know how it is. I don't know how you've got it, and I don't know what you expect me to believe. But I do know that we currently have one suspect for this murder and that's you.”

  “Man, this is some bullshit.”

  “Oh it is, huh? IT IS?!” The thin detective stood up so fast his chair fell backwards. “Mr. Brown, it is going to be a long night for you. A very long night.”