Page 6 of Alpha’s Possession

"I saw a nice little restaurant on the way here. We will stop and grab a bite to eat," she says, reaching for my hand. She gives it a gentle squeeze before gripping the steering wheel again.

We arrive at the diner and eat, sharing very little in conversation as I am still very uncertain about her son and his mates. I don't want to end up with the life of a breeder, being mounted solely for heirs. Hana, as she introduced herself, attempts to reassure me of her son’s intentions. She says they want more than heirs. They want a mate to love and grow old with. Upon getting back in the car, Hana begins talking again about Mr. Keller as she merges onto the highway.

"No need to be frightened. My son is a good man, and so are his pack mates. You'll like them," she says, smiling at me.

I am about to ask her their names when suddenly, we’re hit. A truck slams into the side of our car and tosses the little vehicle into the barrier. She screams, blood gushing from her head where she banged it on the steering wheel when the truck starts to back up.

It stops before accelerating and hitting us again. When the door crashes into my side, glass rains down all over the place, and the car begins to roll down the hill. The creak and groan of metal is loud, but not as loud as our screams. The car finally stops and lands on its roof. I stupidly unplug my seatbelt and fall to the roof, the glass tearing my hands apart.

Mrs. Keller is slumped and dangling from her seat. I hear men shouting from the road.

"Down here, quick. Grab the bitch, and let's go!"

I blink, blood tainting my vision from the gash on my head, and I shake the woman. She groans, peering around as the voices grow closer. She turns, and I will never forget the look she gives me. One of pure fear before she screams at me.

"Run! Run, Harlow. They are coming for you!" she screams.

I don't need to be told twice.

Snatching my satchel off the roof, I clamber out, my back tearing open on a jagged piece of metal, and I hear her fall out of her seat behind me. I start running like she told me, expecting her to catch up. I have no idea what is going on, but I do as she asked, trusting this woman blindly. Only, she never catches up, and I stumble blindly into the woods.

Chapter Four

~Harlow~

TWO YEARS LATER

My landlord's voice in the stairwell makes my stomach drop as she speaks to the handyman about the damn light fixtures that don't work. I cringe, tugging my blazer higher to cover my neck and part of my face, praying she doesn't notice me. My rent is four months late. I try to sneak past Martha by holding my ratty-looking handbag higher to cover my face, but I don't go unmissed when I am forced to squeeze past her as I hastily try to escape.

"Zara!" she shrieks, as I try to escape her wrath. I pause and slowly turn to face her. Her reddish, graying hair is pulled into a bun on the top of her head, with two snake-shaped hair picks stuck through it. Martha steps around the handyman standing on a ladder pulling apart the old light fixture high up on the wall.

"Where is my rent money? You promised to have it last week!" she screeches, and I internally groan. Martha is a tough old woman, and she looks the part with her denim jacket, black boots, and dark-blue, skinny-leg jeans on. No one messes with Martha here.

She would kick your ass and toss you to the curb if you tried. I had seen her beat a group of vandals that once got past the crumbling lobby. Martha whipped their asses real good and broke a skateboard over one of their heads. Safe to say, they didn't return. It secretly makes me wonder if she isn't human. She strikes fear in everyone, but she is also quite understanding and lovely, too. As long as you're not four months behind in rent like I am.

"I will have it. I just need a little—" I try to tell her.

"No, it has been four months. You have until the end of the day, 6 p.m., missy," she says, clicking her fingers at me before pointing her index finger at me.

"6 p.m.," I nod my head and gulp.

Martha is usually nice. I, however, have surpassed the tipping point of her generosity. Sure, the place is a dump, but it is cheap, but I can't even afford cheap at this point. I can't even sell anything because the place I rent comes fully furnished, and I have little in the way of possessions.

"I have a job interview today. Soon, I will have it," I plead my case to her.

"Soon isn't good enough. I have bills to pay."

I rummage through my pockets and pull out my last hundred dollars, besides some loose change floating around in the bottom of my handbag. Brianna, my only friend in the city, recently introduced me to her boss at the local strip club she works at. Talon lets me wash dishes occasionally, so I have enough money to buy some groceries and money to get around the city while I hunt for a job. Martha snatches it, shaking it in the air at me.

"I am sick of the crumbs. I mean it, Zara. 6 p.m. or I will have Mike change the locks," she says, pointing to Mike. He hangs his head and smiles sadly. The dude is creepy as fuck and mute, but he always comes running when something needs to be fixed.

"I'll have something for you this afternoon," I tell her.

"No, you will have all of it. You owe me nearly four thousand in rent plus utilities. I was nice enough to let you stay here with your fake ID and your shitty backstory, which I don't for one second believe," she snaps, turning away from me and dismissing me.

Shit! Martha figured me out. I wonder about how long she’s known and if she saw straight through my fake ID from the start, giving me the benefit of the doubt. God, I hope the company I am interviewing at doesn't look too closely at me. They may question why I don't have the scar from Zara’s ID photo. Or why I am using a dead girl's ID in the first place. Though I always explain away the scar as my expert skills in contouring. Ha! I can't contour to save my life. They don't need to know that, though.

Technically, she is my twin. We just aren't 100% identical. Similar, but not identical. Twins are one and the same, so it’s not like it is exactly a fake. It is my dead sister's. Not like she is going to use it. And I can't risk the Omega facility finding me. No one is looking for a dead girl! But I will worry about that later. I have a job interview and need to get to the city center in twenty minutes or I will be late.