Chapter 9 Mirabelle
Mirabelle
“You’re getting tired, huh?” Rowan asks softly.
I jerk up, sitting up on his couch, the comforter I’d dragged out from his bedroom curled around me.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“I mean, it is getting pretty late, and we were woken up at the asscrack of dawn,” he says, closing his laptop and setting down his pen on top of the stack of papers on his dining table. “You don’t have to apologize.”
It’s been a really long day. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time outside... well, as long as I can remember. Most of my day was spent sitting quietly while Rowan went over all the different protocols Griffin would be expected to know.
“But I had a nap earlier, so I shouldn’t be tired, not if you’re not tired yet,” I say, rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn.
Rowan brought me back to his trailer in the early afternoon for some food and to clean up all the scrapes I got. My legs are covered in bandaids from the suspiciously well-stocked first aid kit he pulled out from under his sink.
Considering the way Jett hurt him this morning, I assume he’s no stranger to treating himself.
Rowan left me for a couple of hours before coming back from dinner. Apparently, he successfully showcased the “progress” he made with Griffin to the other trainers. It sounded like they were all very surprised.
“If you’re tired, you’re tired. No need to stay up for my sake. And no offense, Sugar, but you look about ready to pass out.”
I don’t even bother trying to hide my yawn this time.
“How about you head to my room and get some rest?” He asks.
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as I glance nervously at the door.
“I’m scared of—“
The two of us jump in our seats when an all too familiar banging shakes the walls of Rowan’s trailer.
My heart starts racing, and my hand comes up to touch the collar that’s still resting around my neck. It feels like it weighs a thousand pounds right now.
This is exactly what I was afraid of.
“Fuck,” Rowan hisses, shooting me a terrified look. “Go to my room and close the door, Sugar.”
“But—“
“Remember the rules,” he snaps.
My feet are moving, dragging his comforter behind me before I realize what I’m doing. I cast an almost betrayed look of concern over my shoulder and watch as his hands tremble as he reaches for the door.
I go into his room, closing his bedroom door but leaving it a crack open so I can still see part of the front area of the trailer.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses,” Rowan calls. He’s trying his best to sound annoyed, but I can hear the waver of fear in his voice.
The moment Rowan unlocks the door, I hear it crash open.
“You pathetic, cheating, shitstain!” Jett roars.
I catch sight of the two of them tumbling to the floor before I hear the terrifying sound of fist against flesh.
Rowan lets out a gasp of pain that’s quickly cut off.
I quickly reach up and cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold in my whimper of fear.
I can practically feel the rage coming from Jett right now, like a heavy, putrid, disgusting blanket. He’s furious. So furious, I’m terrified he’s going to kill Rowan.
“You just had to go and fuck up my plans by actually being good at training a fucking dog? Are you kidding me right now?” Jett yells, leaning down over Rowan, who’s pinned underneath him.
“You spent your entire life being a pathetic beta cuck loser, and now you decide you want to make something of yourself?”
There’s another violent crack of fist against flesh, but Rowan lets out a groan of pain. I think it’s a representation of how terrible this situation is that I find that relieving. At least he’s not being choked to death.
Not yet, at least.
“You always shit on me for not participating in the family business,” Rowan croaks. “Well, now I’m participating.”
Another thwack before Jett hauls Rowan up by the collar of his shirt. Rowan’s head lolls to the side as he’s dragged upwards.
“Yeah, and you’re ruining my fucking plans,” Jett spits. “That omega was supposed to be mine! And now you have Dad saying that if you prove yourself, I’ll have to leave you two alone!”
He shoves Rowan’s limp body to the floor and kicks him in the stomach. There’s another sickeningly audible crunch as something inside his body breaks.
I can’t keep the quiet sob from escaping my lips at the sight of Rowan, blood dripping from his face, curled in a ball on the floor.
Jett straightens, and I instantly know he’s heard the sound.
“You’ve made a mistake, shitstain,” Jett sneers. “When you gave that little demonstration of yours earlier, you didn’t make sure Daddy Dearest was there, meaning he’s not gonna hear about it for a while, if I have anything to say about it. Which means...”
“No, don’t—“ Rowan croaks out, earning him another kick to the ribs.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, you stupid bitch, or else I’m gonna stomp his face in!” Jett calls, cutting his gaze towards where I’m hiding behind Rowan’s bedroom door.
I instantly shove it open and hurry out, my hands fisting the hem of the new t-shirt Rowan gave me after my shower.
“No one’s gonna ask about where you are ’til tomorrow,” Jett says, his lips curling up in a sneer.
Terror claws its way up my throat. I don’t like the implications of his words.
“You’ll be getting a crash course on the other two dogs we’ve got. I’m sure you’ll find them a lot less... accommodating than the new guy.”
“Don’t—“ Rowan wheezes.
Jett just rolls his eyes before his hand comes out and grabs my arm.
I’m quick to follow him. I don’t want to be dragged around again this time if I can help it. Since it’s dark out, it’ll be even harder to find my footing if I slip.
The lights from an ATV shine, illuminating the eerie-looking rows of trailers. Bile fills the back of my throat when I see it’s one of the ATVs with a cage attached to the trailer.
“Get in,” he snaps, hauling the heavy, thick metal door open.
He doesn’t even give me a chance to follow his instructions before he’s shoving me inside. A whine leaves my throat as he slams the door shut, the clang echoing through the cage.
My nostrils fill with the faint scent of something so raw and overwhelming that it has my heart pounding in my chest. It’s faint, but present enough to make me think that the previous occupant of this transport cage was here recently.
Charred sage.
Is this what another one of the fighters smells like?
I don’t have the time to think about it any longer before Jett stalks his way back into Rowan’s trailer.
“Wait! Where are you going?” I call out, gripping the thick metal bars.
“Making sure the little shitstain doesn’t wake up before I’m done with my plans,” he calls over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at me.
“No! Stop! Please!”
My cries fall on deaf ears, and I watch helplessly, the cold of the metal bars seeping into my fingertips as Jett slams his fist into Rowan’s face one more time.
I’m pretty sure I hear the faint crack of Rowan’s head hitting the floor behind him.
My entire body racks with huge, heaving sobs as I catch sight of Rowan’s limp body before Jett slams the trailer door closed.
“Shut the fuck up, your cryin’s getting annoying,” Jett snarls, slamming his fist on top of the cage, making the walls rattle.
I flinch away from the walls, tugging my legs up to my body and trying to hold myself together. It’s a struggle to bite back the hiccuping sobs that want to escape my chest, but when the ATV roars to life, it drowns out any of the sounds I’m making.
As Jett drives me through the farm, it feels like the chilly wind is whipping at my skin. Most of the farm is dark, with the only light coming from the headlights of the ATV or the occasional floodlight, running off a noisy generator.
I don’t bother asking where I’m being taken.
It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not like my knowing would change anything.
I just have to stay alive. I’m not ready to die. There’s so much life I haven’t had the chance to live yet.
Jett cuts the ATV’s engine off as we pull up outside another barn. In the dark, it looks eerie and menacing. It makes me want to run screaming in the opposite direction.
I want to run back to Rowan’s trailer. I want him to wrap his arms around me again and tell me everything is going to be okay.
The cage door opens with a slam.
“Get out,” Jett orders.
I hurry to comply, scooting myself forward until my legs are hanging off the edge of the cage.
“Did you—did you kill him?” I whisper.
Jett grips my face in his meaty hand, squeezing my cheeks and making my lips pucker outwards. I try to hide the wince of pain.
“I think you should be more concerned about whether you’re going to live through the night, omega,” he growls.
Bile rises at the back of my throat, the lasagna Rowan and I shared threatening to make its way back up.
“Playthings are supposed to be fun to fuck with, and you’re starting to be a lot more trouble than you’re worth. ”
“I don’t—I don’t understand what you mean,” I whimper.
He shoves my face away like it disgusts him.
“It’s not your place to understand. Just know that I don’t give a shit whether you live or die anymore. If you survive the next twelve hours, then maybe you’ve got some use, but my brother’s been coddling you too much.”
If I survive the next twelve hours.
What does that mean?
I don’t dare ask him.
“My shitstain of a brother isn’t dead, though. Unfortunately, killing him isn’t allowed, but it’ll be awhile before he’s ready to fucking rescue you.” A maniacal grin appears on his face. “Which means I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
He grips my arm and drags me towards the barn. I wince as I put pressure on some of the earlier cuts and scrapes I got from being dragged along the dirt and gravel, but I don’t make the same mistake of not matching his pace.
When he slams open the door, it’s like all my senses are assaulted.
I have to blink my eyes quickly to adjust. There are two floodlights on opposite ends of the barn, illuminating the entire room in light that’s so bright it’s almost painful compared to the darkness outside.
As I’m dragged to the center of the room, it’s like I’m punched in the gut by the scent filling the space.
That charred sage.
Except right now, it’s so overwhelmingly burnt that I have to stifle back a cough.
My eyes dart around the room, trying to find the source of the scent, and my eyes fall on an alpha chained to the wall.
Not Griffin, so it must be one of the other fighters.
He’s clad in nothing but a pair of boxers, and he seems to drip water onto the floor below him. Considering the hose that one of the other trainers is holding, it looks like he was probably recently hosed down.
His body is absolutely littered with scars and bruises. A terrifying number of them.
I barely catch sight of his close-cropped dark blonde hair, light eyes, and terrifying snarl before Jett drags my attention back to him by dragging my arms above my head.
“Wait, what’re you—what’re you doing!”
White, blinding pain hits me, and my head jerks backwards.
He backhands me across the face so hard that if it weren’t for his bruising grip on my wrists, I would’ve fallen.
A strangled whimper breaks my protests off as I taste blood on the inside of my mouth where my teeth must’ve cut the inside of my cheek. My chest heaves, rising and falling under Rowan’s t-shirt as I blink helplessly through the pain, staring at the concrete below my bare feet.
I’ve never been hit before. Let alone hit in the face like that.
It’s terrible and terrifying, and I can do nothing except let myself get manhandled so it doesn’t happen again.
Cold, thick metal cuffs clamp around my wrists, and I’m hung from the ceiling like I’m meat in a butcher’s shop.
“Need some help with her, boys,” Jett sneers. The two other trainers leave the charred sage smelling alpha to stalk across the room towards me.
I bite back a whimper as the chain I’m hanging from is hauled upwards, bringing me so I’m barely standing on my tippy toes. The bite of the metal cuffs around my wrists reminds me of Griffin and the blood that dripped down his forearms earlier.
God, I hope he’s okay right now.
If the state of this other alpha is any indication, his stay at this place isn’t going to be a vacation either.
“Look at her, already in la-la land,” Jett laughs. He digs into his pocket and flicks open a menacing, serrated pocket knife. “I’ve got a solution to that.”
“W—wait,” I whimper, inching backwards on my toes, only to run into the chest of one of the other alpha trainers.
“Ah, there she is.” Jett grabs Rowan’s shirt and hooks his knife into the collar and my eyes go wide as I realize what they’re doing.
“N—no! Please don’t,” I whisper.
“Keep on begging, it makes me hard,” Jett sneers, grabbing his crotch suggestively.
I clamp my jaw shut, my eyes darting around the room, frantically trying to land on something that isn’t a leering alpha’s expression. I settle on the peeling paint on one of the rafters. I wonder what horrors that paint has seen in this room.
I can do nothing but fight back my trembling, trying to keep myself as still as possible so he doesn’t nick me as he cuts off the clothes I’m wearing. My trembling only gets worse when I feel the chill of the night wind whipping at my skin.
This barn may have four walls, but it’s not insulated, and there’s still a draft that makes its way through as the wind howls outside.
Rowan’s t-shirt and boxers fall to the floor in jagged scraps of fabric. Rowan is going to run out of t-shirts for me to use at this rate.
I don’t know why that’s what my brain fixates on, but it’s better than the situation at hand.
“What the fuck kind of show is this?” The alpha chained to the wall growls.