Page 50 of Stalked By the Alphas

49

HAZEL

The night air is sticky and warm against my skin as I walk away from the bridge.

And then, I immediately regret it.

My heart rate kicks up a notch, and my breathing becomes heavier. My skin prickles, and I can feel someone watching me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I muffle a whimper behind my hand that I clap over my mouth.

This was a bad idea.

It’s a really stupid idea.

After being stalked and abducted and assaulted, why am I being an idiot and walking back to my house in the middle of the night? Anyone could be out here. I drop my hand and chew my bottom lip, looking back over my shoulder.

Am I really that stubborn?

With a huff, I realise, I am. I won’t go back to Carter and ask him for a ride. He can fuck off until he can’t fuck off no more.

My anger gets me moving again as I remember the confessions.

The sex… fuck. I close my eyes for a second and then force myself to open them. I can’t think about it. I can’t think about how amazing it felt to have a knot inside me, easing my heat. They can justify that I said I consented all they like, but it wasn’t really a consent. I thought they were a dream. I remember saying yes. I do, but that’s not the point. I didn’t know they were real. Did I? Somewhere deep down, I must’ve known it was real, I must’ve caught their scents and known it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, but I was being blind and na?ve. I know what it’s like to be in the throes of delirium, and you don’t know which way is up and which way is down. What they did was wrong, pure and simple. They violated me.

And I hate that.

I had sex for the first time in my adult life, and I didn’t even know it was real. That’s the part that really makes me angry. Yes, the breaking into my house is truly awful and taking advantage of me is unforgivable, but the part that really twists the screw is the sex.

The sound of a car engine approaching jolts me out of my spiralling thoughts. I tense, ready to bolt, but then I recognise Carter’s SUV. It pulls up beside me, and the passenger window slides down.

“Hazel, please get in the car,” Carter says from the driver’s seat. “It’s not safe for you to be walking alone at night.”

Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, that I don’t need their protection and that I don’t want to be anywhere near them. But the rational part of my brain knows he’s right. I shouldn’t cut my nose off to spite my face. With a frustrated sigh, I yank open the passenger door and climb in.

Zach and Noah are in the back. Zach has his eyes closed, his fists clenched in his lap. He looks like he is hanging by a thread. Noah looks like he would crack if someone said boo too loudly.

“We’ll take you home,” Carter says quietly as he pulls away from the kerb. “And then you never have to see us again.”

I nod stiffly, staring out the window. The silence stretches thick and uncomfortable.

“Hazel, I—” Carter starts.

“Don’t,” I snap. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

He falls silent. I can feel Noah’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him.

When we finally pull up in front of my house, I’m out of the car before it fully stops. But something makes me pause before I slam the door shut.

“I’m glad you came for me tonight, but I never want to see any of you again.”

“We’re sorry,” Noah says. “Know that.”

I shake my head with a bitter laugh. “It makes no difference. You don’t even understand what you took from me. ”

“Hazel—”

I slam the car door shut, cutting Carter off and march up to my front door, fumbling with my keys. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get the key in the lock. As soon as I’m inside, I close and lock the door, feeling numb. I don’t even feel like crying, which is good because I am so fucking sick of crying. It’s all I’ve done for the last few months. I can’t do it anymore. I think all the tears are gone.

I just feel hollow, wrung out.

I go through the motions of getting ready for bed, even though I know sleep will be impossible, but I have to try. I promised I’d be at the shop tomorrow and I won’t let Mrs Lewis down again.

A tiny, traitorous part of me remembers how good the sex was during my heat, how it felt in the moment, how my body responded to their touch.

I shake my head violently, disgusted with myself. It doesn’t matter how it felt. They took advantage of me when I couldn’t truly consent. They violated my trust, my body, my home.

But then I think of Zach on that bridge, ready to end his life over the guilt of what they’d done. The pain in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. Despite everything, I can’t help but feel a twinge of concern for him. For all of them.

I groan in frustration, burying my face in my pillow. Why can’t I just hate them completely? It would be so much easier.

But I know why. I know them. I care about them. I always have. I left to give them a better life without me in it. I left knowing that there was never going to be a chance for us, despite the pact, despite being best friends forever. And because for all their faults, for all the ways they’ve hurt me, I know they care about me too. In their own twisted, misguided way, they thought they were protecting me. Loving me. Giving me what I needed. They didn’t know about the abuse, they didn’t know that I haven’t been able to take an alpha to my bed, but that doesn’t excuse what they did. Not by a long shot. But it makes it harder for me to write them off entirely.

And I hate that for myself.

I toss and turn, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, betrayal, hurt... but also concern, and a lingering sense of connection that I can’t seem to shake no matter how much I want to try.

And then there’s the rescue.

They came in and saved me, and I can’t push that from my mind. If they hadn’t been this way about me, if they hadn’t been obsessed or whatever the fucking word is, I would still be with David and Ayden, tied up, raped, beaten and cowed, possibly pregnant with a child that would endure horrors no child should ever have to go through.

How can I forget that and brush it off like it means nothing?

It meant everything.

“Fucking bastards!” I scream, sitting up and shoving my hands into my hair, I tug it, yanking hard, just to feel something physical, to vent some of this anger. I need to hit something. Or someone. I scream again and lunge out of bed, I curl my hand into a fist and slam it into the wall. I shriek with the agony that slices through my hand and up my arm.

“Oh, ow,” I cry out and shake my hand before cradling it against my chest. The pain is sharp and immediate, momentarily drowning out the emotional turmoil. I flex my fingers gingerly, wincing. Nothing seems broken, but I’ve definitely done some damage.

“Stupid,” I mutter to myself. “Really smart, Hazel.”

I stumble downstairs and into the kitchen. Opening the freezer, I look around and pull out a bag of frozen mixed veg. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do. Bruises are already forming across my knuckles.

As I wrap the makeshift ice pack around my hand, my mind drifts back to the alphas. To Zach on that bridge. To the revelations of the night.

Part of me wants to call them, to make sure Zach is okay. But I squash that impulse ruthlessly. They’re not my responsibility anymore. They never should have been.

And yet...

I shake my head, angry at myself for even considering it. They violated me. Manipulated me. Controlled my life from the shadows. I owe them nothing.

But the memory of Zach’s broken expression, of Noah’s desperate singing, of Carter’s anguished plea for help... it haunts me.

“Stop it. They don’t deserve your concern. ”

But even as I say it, I know it’s not entirely true. Despite everything they’ve done, I can’t just turn off my feelings for them. They were my best friends for years.

I groan in frustration, pressing the cold bag of vegetables harder against my throbbing hand. The pain helps ground me, gives me something to focus on besides the swirling mess of emotions.

My stomach churns as I try to reconcile these two versions of the alphas in my mind. The caring friends and protectors versus the controlling, manipulative abusers. How can they be both?

I sink down onto a chair. What am I supposed to do now? How do I move forward from this? Can I move forward from this? Can I ever trust them again?