AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, you are a rogue whore?”
“Such a vile thing to call women; whoever came up with it should be shot. I am many things, but a rogue whore? You and I aren't so different. My name is Valarie, and you are?”
“Everly. This is Valarian,” I tell her, and her eyes sparkle.
“It suits; after his father,” the woman says.
“How do you know?”
“About his father?” the woman asks, looking at my son. “Only one bloodline I know that has amber eyes. Come on, let's get you a room,” Valarie says while getting up. I follow her into the small office.
“I take it you have no ID?” she asks, and I nod.
“I have an old bus pass,” I offer, but she shakes her head, waving me off.
“I don't believe you'll give me any trouble. Here, fill this out while I hold Valarian,” she says, holding her arms out.
I pass her my son, and she wanders behind the counter, sitting down while I fill out my paperwork, yet I had no address to put down, no credit card that actually works to use as collateral. I put down the number for my sister's old cell phone.
“Are you hungry? I'm cooking a roast, but it's just me and too much for one person. You can join me if you want, say around five; it should be done about then,” she says, nodding toward the door behind her. There is a beaded curtain, and the scent of what smells like a lamb roast wafts to my nose. My belly rumbles at the thought of a home-cooked meal.
“How about you get settled in, take a shower, and come through that door when you're done? We can have dinner together. It would be nice to have company. Not many stop over for the night anymore, and you can tell me how you ended up a rogue,” she tells me. I dig through my bag to give her cash from the envelope as she hands me my son.
“No, keep it. Be nice just to have company; haven't had anyone stay in months now,” Valarie tells me. I look around again. The place is a dump, but it's still nicer than the back of my car.
ChapterNine
Valen
The sun is searing my eyes out of my head as it lights up the back of my eyelids. I am working up the energy to force myself out of bed when Marcus bursts into my room, slamming the door into the wall loudly, the noise rattling my already pounding headache.
“Ah, good. You're up,” he says just as I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I wave him off, but he doesn't leave. Instead, he leans on the wall beside my dresser.
“What?” I ask, my head pulsing violently in my skull. I look around my room to find some redhead in my bed and groan, praying I used a rubber. She's tangled in the sheets, and just seeing her there irritates me. Stupid dick, why does it always pick bimbos?
“The rogue girl in my room, where did she go?”
Huh? What the fuck is he talking about?I'm too hungover for his drama this morning. I continue to stare at the woman in my bed, her hair spreading out on the pillow like a web of red. All the while, I ignore my Beta.
“Hey, whatever your name is, get up,” I tell her, shoving her shoulder. She groans, rolling over and flashing us her tits. I growl at her, and Marcus snorts.
“Get rid of her,” I tell Marcus, getting up to pee. I push the bathroom door open and my senses come alert. I can smell some faint scent in here. It makes my mouth water, but it's barely there. I wonder if the cleaning lady changed her chemicals.
“Valen, the girl in my room, where is she?” Marcus asks, following me to the bathroom.
“What girl?” I mutter, shaking my dick before pulling my pants up. I glance at the trash can and see a used condom.Thank fuck for that, I think to myself
“The rogue girl, Everly. I picked her up last night and brought her here,” Marcus says, and I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to remember last night.
My head is throbbing—I remember coming home, and the slut in my bed whining about a rogue.
Then it clicks, coming back to me. But I can’t remember her face. However, something keeps nagging me about the situation.
“Wait, you brought her here?” I ask, peering over at my Beta leaning on the bathroom door.
“Yes, and she has a name: Everly. Her and her son; I found them sleeping at the train station.”
“What?” I ask, horrified, looking at him.
