Chapter Three
I’d been up since three, waking to the sound of the alphas outside my window and drunker than drunk. They were fighting again over I didn’t even know what. It took a shit ton of booze to get a shifter tipsy, and these guys were so drunk their words all slurred together. I’d have found it odd that they were using their words instead of their teeth and claws if they weren’t so incredibly inebriated. The odds they were able to shift in their current state were slim to none.
When I first arrived, I assumed they had some super-powered alcohol, possibly amplified with herbs that messed with our ability to handle booze. I learned quickly it was cheap-ass vodka they stole off the back of a truck one day. They didn’t say that they hurt the truck driver, but they didn’t need to. I scented his blood when they had me fetch a new case from the storage shed. These wolves weren’t worthy of the air they breathed.
As the arguing got louder, I attempted to look outside from my spot on the bed. I couldn’t see them from this angle. The high window only gave me a view of the sky. Getting up might alert them, and that wouldn’t end well.
But I didn’t need to see them. What I needed was to stand up and get my work done. There had been talk of getting me some “help” for this shithole if I didn’t earn my keep. That was the last thing I wanted. No one needed to live this life of hell, and definitely not because I was too slow or, as they called it, “lazy.”
I’d over heard them talking at dinner. “We’re having visitors,” was about as much information as I got out of it though. I wasn’t sure who the visitors were or why they were coming. At least two of the alphas scented of fear, though, so it couldn’t be good. I dared not ask or show any sign I overheard them. As they said many times, it wasn’t my concern—which was code for, if you get nosy, you will pay.
They did tell me the place needed to be spotless or else. This place wasn’t big, but it sure got gross quickly. When they decided to create a “triple-wide glam cabin,” they followed absolutely no building codes and used even less common sense. The place got mildewy quickly, they were gross on a good day, and there were enough rodents in the area who held no fear of shifters to keep that a constant battle.
Their drunken grossness was the worst though. Mouse poop was eww, but manageable. Mildew? They provided bleach. But grown-ass men who didn’t think peeing in the dead house plants or blowing snot onto the ground was disgusting? That was where I drew my line.
I wasn’t sure what had these particular group of men so vile and gross. There was piss on the floor, I didn’t even know what on the shower wall, and a towel behind the toilet filled with…some things weren’t worth thinking about. It was my big job, and I left it for last because once I was done with it, I needed to either shower or take a swim in the lake. I preferred a shower, but they rarely afforded me the privilege. I was pretty sure I only had a room because they wanted to make sure I didn’t sneak out.
My job was mostly done. The towels were in the washer with enough bleach to kill whatever was on them, the shower was sprayed with a concoction I created that would dissolve most of what had settled there, and the trash was gone. I wasn’t sure how much time I had before the guests arrived, but time felt like it was ticking, and my wolf on edge in a way he hadn’t been in a long while.
Using a toothbrush I salvaged from the trash a while ago, I went to work scrubbing around the toilet. It wouldn’t look good when it was done, the stains too set in, but at least it wouldn’t stink.
The guys had been quiet all morning. I assumed they’d passed out after their bender, so when the door slammed closed, I jerked up and bonked my head on the toilet. At least I’d already cleaned it.
Despite the chemicals wafting through the air, I pushed it closed and hoped whoever it was coming in would not need to use the bathroom. In its current state, I’d get a beating for sure. I kept my head down and my toothbrush going, praying to the goddess I could miraculously stay invisible and forgotten.
They did not stay silent, and I quickly realized all of them were only a wall away…and pissed.
“Johnson’s got to go.”
I had no idea who Johnson was. I didn’t even know if it was his first or last name, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard them talking about him. And the conversations surrounding the name were never positive. So them wanting him gone was same old same old. Until it wasn’t.
This time, they went from “got to go” to very detailed descriptions of how they were going to make it happen. They weren’t going to go the human route and just shoot him. They weren’t going to go the wolf route and challenge him fair and square. No. That was all too easy and had some semblance of humanity.
They planned to make his end times the actual textbook definition of torture. Once, I’d have taken that as a sign I needed to get out of here. But as I got older and learned more about this messed-up world, I realized leaving only solved the problem for me and made more for others. Their conversation solidified my resolve to make sure I got all my work done and pleased them enough not to either replace me or add a second to my side. I wasn’t going to be able to protect people from my fate forever, but each day felt like a victory, one I willingly accepted.
“Once we get enough beasts out of the way, we’ll be able to take over.” They then went into detail I tried not to hear.
Why? Why were they talking about this so close to me? It wasn’t like they couldn’t scent the chemicals and see the door shut. They knew. They just didn’t care. Or maybe they wanted to instill more fear in me. If that was the case, they were doing a kick-ass job of it. Despite my best efforts, every word they said got absorbed into my being, and I just couldn’t handle it.
Tears formed in my eyes. For so long, I’d thought that I would wait and fight. With alphas like this, I’d never win. I’d only make things worse for me as well as the next person they brought in—possibly someone they would take a “liking” to, who’d they force to live a life of double hell—being a slave, working for everyone in the whole cabin and then a slave in their beds.
No, it was best I stay put, head down, fingers working until they couldn’t work any more, and wait for the goddess to call me home.