Page 51 of Stalked By the Alphas

50

HAZEL

The next morning, I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. My hand throbs, my head aches, and my heart is broken into a million pieces. For a moment, I consider calling Mrs Lewis and cancelling our plans for the bookshop. But I push that thought aside. I need normalcy and routine. I need to feel like I’m in control of something in my life.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. As I dress, I catch sight of my bruised knuckles in the mirror. The sight of them brings back all the emotions from last night in a rush. Anger. Betrayal. Confusion. Concern.

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away. I can’t deal with all of that right now. I have a bookshop to run.

In the kitchen, I make tea and toast, and I jump at the noise of the bin men outside, cursing that I forgot to put the bins out last night. Debating whether to run out there now, I decide to leave it. It wasn’t even half full, so I can make it until next time.

Finishing my breakfast, I grab my bag, shoving my phone and keys into it and head out, but instead of going right, I turn left and head across the park, almost as if something is drawing me towards Carter’s house.

I empty my mind, not wanting to think about what I’m doing, just focus on the act of getting there.

When I see the grand old Victorian terraced house, I pause. The driveway is empty. I cross the road quickly and march up to the front door. Now that I’m here, I have some yelling to do, and I need an alpha or three to scream at.

Banging on the door, I wait. But no one answers.

I bang on the door again, harder this time, ignoring the throb of pain in my bruised knuckles. Still no answer.

Frustration and relief washes over me. Part of me is glad they’re not here. I’m not sure what I would have said or done if they had answered. But another part of me is angry. How dare they not be here when I’ve finally worked up the courage to confront them?

With a growl, I turn away, but as I’m about to leave, something catches my eye. There’s an envelope partially hidden by the welcome mat with my name in big, bold letters across the front. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I bend down to pick it up.

I stare at it for a long moment, debating whether to open it or throw it in the nearest bin. In the end, curiosity wins out. I tear open the envelope and pull out a letter.

Hazel,

We know we have no right to ask anything of you, but if you ever find it in your heart to forgive us, it would mean the world to us. You mean the world to us. We know we fucked up, and we will spend a lifetime trying to make it up to you if you will let us.

We’ve left you alone, but we will be close by. Always.

I glare at the letter. I’m here now, wanting to talk and they aren’t here! Okay, shout and punch and kick is probably more the vibe I’m going for right now, but still. If I go away and think about it some more, I will never come back.

“Damn you, you fucking dicks.”

Slumping my shoulders, I stuff the letter into my bag and turn to walk to the bookshop, hoping it will distract me from the pain and confusion whirling through my mind.

The walk does little to calm my racing thoughts. By the time I arrive, I’m a bundle of nervous energy. Mrs Lewis is already waiting outside, her kind smile a bright spot on this already dark day .

“Morning, dear,” she says.

I force a smile. “Morning, Mrs Lewis.”

“Call me Delia,” she says with a wink. “Mrs Lewis makes me feel old.”

I giggle, and I already feel better as I open up the shop. If Delia notices my hand, she doesn’t comment.

As we enter the shop, the familiar scent of old books and polished wood washes over me. For a moment, I feel a sense of peace. This is my sanctuary, my safe haven. No alphas, no drama, just books and the quiet comfort they bring.

Delia bustles around the shop, straightening displays and chatting cheerfully about the latest town gossip. I try to focus on her words, grateful for the distraction, but my mind keeps drifting back to the letter in my bag.

“Hazel?” Delia’s voice breaks through my reverie. “Are you alright, dear? You seem a bit distracted.”

I force another smile. “I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

She eyes me sceptically but doesn’t push. “Well, why don’t you go work on that paperwork you mentioned? I can handle things out here for a bit.”

Grateful for the excuse to be alone, I nod and retreat to the small office in the back of the shop. Once there, I sink into the chair behind the desk and pull out the letter, reading it again.

We’ve left you alone, but we will be close by. Always.

The words send a chill down my spine. Is that meant to be comforting or threatening? After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore.

I groan and drop my head into my hands. Why can’t I just hate them and be done with it? Why does a part of me still care?

A soft knock at the door startles me. “Hazel?” Delia calls. “There’s someone here to see you.”

My heart leaps into my throat. Have they come here? After promising to leave me alone?

“They said they ordered a book online.”

“Oh, okay,” I say. The disappointment that hits me is harder than the relief. Why am I so fucked up? “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Inhaling deeply, I pull myself together. The alphas and their shit have a place, and it isn’t here at my place of business. They can wait. My livelihood can’t.