The Alpha's Search (The Craven Trilogy, #1) Page 2

  “Hello sexy. Where are you off to?”

  I didn't see the two men until they stepped out in front of me. They must have been standing behind the large industrial bins. Both men were smoking. Destiny gave out 'smoke-break' passes to its customers. We were opposite a fire exit above which was a single, illuminated bulb.

  I didn't reply. Instead, I took a step to the side so I could get past them. The taller of the two mirrored my movement in order to block my way.

  “What's your hurry sexy?” the shorter guy said.

  “My boyfriend's waiting for me in the square,” I lied.

  “He can't be much of a boyfriend if he leaves you to walk down here all by yourself.”

  I moved to the side again. He did the same. I tried to push past them, but the tall one grabbed me by the shoulders.

  “Let me go!” I screamed.

  “No need to shout! We just want a little fun. Don't we Alfie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Please, let me go.”

  “You know you want it.” The tall guy pushed me against the bin. His hand was pressed against my breast.

  “Let her go!”

  The voice took all three of us by surprise. Tall guy took his hand off my breast, but still held me by the arm. Although I could see only his silhouette, I recognised the voice of the man who had spoken to me in the club. The man from the shop. The man with Jet black hair. My stalker.

  “Why don't you fuck off?” tall guy said.

  “Yeah. Fuck off!” Alfie said.

  I heard a metallic sound and saw something glisten in Alfie's hand. It was a knife.

  “I'll ask you one more time,” my stalker said.

  “Fuck off!” Alfie slashed out with the blade.

  Everything after that was a blur. The next thing I remember was when I heard his words.

  “Are you okay?”

  It took me a few moments to get my bearings. We were in a taxi. My stalker (or was he my rescuer) was sitting opposite me.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You must have fainted.”

  “What about those two guys?”

  “They decided to leave.”

  I glanced out of the taxi window.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I'm taking you home. At least, I would if I knew where you lived.”

  “No. That's okay.”

  “I insist.”

  “No! Driver! Pull over here would you?”

  “You sure?” The driver looked confused.

  “Yes. Just here please.”

  He dropped me outside the town hall—an area which was busy and well lit. I soon found another taxi and asked the driver to take me home.

  *********

  I hadn't expected to see Alison the next morning, but she was in the kitchen nursing one hell of a hangover.

  “Hi,” she managed. Her eyes were barely open.

  “What happened to your new boyfriend?” I asked. “I didn't think you'd be here this morning.”

  “The bastard was married.”

  “Didn't you spot his ring?”

  “He wasn't wearing one. It was in his trouser pocket.”

  “How did you find it there?”

  She gave me a look which said: how do you think?

  “Oh, right—yeah.” The penny had dropped.

  “He's only been married for nine months. I hate men! What happened to you? Why did you leave so early?”

  “I was knackered. I nearly didn't make it back home though.”

  That seemed to wake Alison. “Why? What happened?”

  I told her about the incident in the side street, and about my mysterious stalker/rescuer.

  “You should tell the police. The club might have CCTV.”

  “There aren't any cameras around there. I'd have seen them.”

  “Bastards. They should have their balls chopped off.” Alison ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Make us a coffee would you. My gob feels like a cat just shat in it.”

  I filled the kettle and found two clean mugs.

  “What about the guy who has been stalking you?” Alison said. “What's his deal?”

  “I'm not positive he has been stalking me. It might just be a coincidence.”

  “How come he followed you out of the club?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Mind, it's a good job he did.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Still a bit creepy though.”

  “I feel like I know him from somewhere.” I was thinking aloud.

  “Any danger of that coffee?” Alison groaned. “A girl could die of thirst.”

  Alison kept me talking for so long that I missed my usual bus, and was half an hour late getting into the shop.

  “Heavy night?” Sarah grinned.

  “Sorry I'm late.”

  “I hope it was worth it.”

  “It wasn't.”

  “Hi, Jackie!” Candice shouted from behind her desk. I was pleased to see her back at work; I didn't want to be left alone in the shop again at lunch time. Why should I be worried? It wasn't as if my mystery man was likely to show up again. And even if he did, I had nothing to worry about. He'd rescued me—hadn't he?

  “Jackie, I took a message for you.” Candice held out a yellow post-it note.

  As usual, her writing was barely legible.

  I could make out '11.30am', but the rest was indecipherable. “What does it say?”

  “Cheeky sod.” Candice pouted. “What's wrong with my writing?”

  Sarah and I exchanged a knowing look.

  “You two must be blind. Here give it back.”

  Candice squinted at the note.

  “See!” Sarah laughed. “Even you can't read it.”

  “Of course I can... it says...”

  “Yes?”

  “You two are really mean. It says 'Mr Craven is coming in to see you at 11.30am'.”

  “Mr Craven? Who's he? Should I know him?”

  “He gave me the impression you did. He said he spoke to you yesterday lunchtime, but that he'd had to dash away.”

  My mystery man? It had to be him.

  “11.30?”

  “That's what he said. Is there a problem? Won't you be here then?”

  “No. No, it's okay. Thanks.”

  It was much busier than the previous day, so I didn't have time to dwell on my 11.30am appointment. At least both Sarah and Candice would be in the shop this time.

  From 11.20am, I couldn't tear my gaze from the door. A few minutes before 11.30am, a young couple approached my desk, but I passed them on to Sarah. At precisely 11.30am, the chime sounded as the door swung open. Craven looked across at me and smiled. My throat was dry, and my pulse began to race. As he made his way across the floor, I glanced left and then right to reassure myself that both Candice and Sarah were still there. They were both busy with other customers. Although I'd seen him on two previous occasions, this was the first chance I'd had to study the man. He was handsome—incredibly handsome. His physique was—how best to describe it? Solid? As he came closer, I felt a strange—what? Connection? There was something about the man that drew me to him like no other man I'd known. His gaze felt as though it could burn into my very soul. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Hello again,” he said.

  “Hi there.” I barely managed to get the words out, and was forced to clear my throat. “Thank you for your help last night.”

  “I wish you had let me take you home.”

  “That wasn't necessary. I was fine. Please, take a seat.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled again. What was it about that smile?

  “What happened to those two guys last night?” I asked.

  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  I had more questions, but bit my lip. The man had rescued me—he didn't deserve the third degree.

  “How can I help you?” I asked. “Are you still interested in visiting the States?”

  Ignoring my questi
on, he said, “Where are you holidaying this year?” Craven shuffled forward on the seat. His hands were on the table—only inches from mine.

  “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “I haven't booked anything yet.”

  “Where did you go last year?”

  Dexter Travel employees received generous discounts on their package holidays. Even so, my finances were always stretched to the limit. I'd only managed a short break last year.

  “I went to France.”

  “Did you enjoy it?” He put his hand on mine.

  “What?” I gasped as what felt like an electric shock passed through my body. My instinct was to pull away, but my hand wouldn't respond. I looked to my left. Sarah was at her desk attending to a customer, but something wasn't right. It took a few seconds for me to realise what it was. No one was moving. I glanced to my right. The scene was the same. Everyone in the shop appeared to be frozen in time. This couldn't be happening. I closed and re-opened my eyes, but nothing had changed. Sarah's mouth was open as though caught mid-sentence. It had to be some kind of crazy dream. I must have fainted again.

  “Are you okay?” Craven said.

  He wasn't frozen like the others.

  “What's happening?” I asked.

  “It’s okay. There's nothing to worry about.”

  “Look!” I nodded to the other people in the shop. “Look at them. What's happened to them?”

  “Nothing. They'll be perfectly fine.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Look at me.” He moved his face closer to mine. “Do you remember yet?”

  “Remember what? I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you?”

  “Look into my eyes.” His face was now only inches from mine.

  “What?”

  “Just do as I say. Allow your mind to see.”

  This man was bat-shit crazy. Either that or I was. I pushed back in my chair and managed to pull my hand from under his.

  The volume level in the room had been restored. I turned to my left. Sarah was now talking to her customer. To my right, Candice was laughing. Everything was back to normal.

  “What the hell was that all about?” I said to an empty chair. Craven had disappeared.

  *********

  Somehow I made it through the day. I hadn't mentioned what had happened to Candice or Sarah. They'd have thought I'd lost the plot. Perhaps I had—the mind could play games—couldn't it?

  I had two days holiday owing to me, so I booked the next couple of days off. If Craven came back to the shop he'd have to make do with Candice or Sarah.

  On the way home after work, I stopped off at the corner shop, and treated myself to chocolate and crisps. When I got back to the flat, I didn't mention anything about the day's events to Alison. She'd have quizzed me about it all night. I just wanted to shut myself away in my bedroom with Coke, chocolate, crisps and a good book. I was almost half way through 'Fated', and loving every minute of it, even though Alison had done her best to spoil it for me. She mocked me at every opportunity: 'What on earth do you see in werewolves?'

  Good as the book was—it wasn't long before I began to nod off. A couple of times, I woke myself up when the book slipped out of my hand. Eventually, I must have drifted off to sleep.

  I lifted the flaming torch from its cradle, and held it out in front of me. The light from the flames lit up the tunnel. There was a fork ahead. Which way? Left? Right? I listened, but there were no sounds. I took the left fork. A breeze blew along the tunnel—I was terrified the flame might be extinguished. A sound—a voice? I stood still and listened. The voice came again—it sounded distant—the words barely audible. I edged forward towards a bend in the tunnel. The voice again. This time I caught a word: 'Lewis' or was it 'Louise'? I couldn't be sure. The voice was getting louder now. Someone was coming towards me. Frozen to the spot, I waited. I heard the word again: 'Louise'. Whoever it was, was only a few metres away now. I still had time to turn and run away. A strong gust of wind rushed through the tunnel. The flame was extinguished, and I was plunged into darkness. My heart was racing. 'Louise'. The voice was almost upon me. I stared into the darkness. Waiting—what else could I do?

  Two spots of light moving towards me. Eyes.

  The torch re-ignited. In front of me was a figure? A man? It was a face I recognised.

  “Jeez!” I sat up in bed. My heart felt as though it was about to burst out of my chest. Another damn nightmare! This one had been a little different. It had been the first time I'd seen the occupant of the cave. Until now, I'd only ever seen his eyes. What's more, I'd recognised him—it was Craven.

  I needed a drink—something stronger than Coke.

  “Finished your book?” Alison asked without looking up from the TV.

  I didn't recognise the programme she was watching, but I'd have bet good money it was some reality rubbish. She loved those stupid things. And she had the nerve to criticise my books!

  “Not yet. I fell asleep.”

  “It's that riveting eh?”

  “I had the same nightmare.”

  “Are you okay?” She turned to face me.

  “Yeah—it's only a dream. But...”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on. You have to tell me now.”

  I sat on the arm of the sofa. “You remember the guy from Destiny that I told you about?”

  “The guy who rescued you?”

  “Yeah. His name is Craven.”

  “Is that his first name?”

  “No. Craven's his last name. I don't know his first name. He came in the shop again today.”

  “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “That doesn't matter. What matters is that he was in my dream. He was the person in the cave.”

  Alison shrugged. “Is that it? I thought this was going to be some big revelation.”

  “But... He was in my dream.”

  “Hardly a surprise. He saves you from those two thugs. Then he comes into the shop. You've got him on the brain. Do you fancy him?”

  I hesitated a moment too long.

  “You do.”

  “I hardly know him.”

  “But you'd like to get to know him. It's written all over your face.”

  “That's rubbish.” I could feel my cheeks redden. “I need a glass of wine.”

  “Whoops.” Alison looked sheepish.

  “What?”

  “I kinda finished it off.”

  “Kinda? All of it?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Great! Thanks a bunch.”

  Back in my bedroom, I thought about what Alison had said. She was right. There was little wonder Craven was kicking around inside my head given the events of the last few days.

  My mind went back to the dream. Who was Louise, and why had Craven called her name?

  *********

  I'd given Alison strict instructions not to wake me the next morning. What was the point of having a day off work if I couldn't have a lie-in? Even so, I was gobsmacked when I checked my phone and found it was 11.30am. That was one morning I was never going to get back. Alison's dirty breakfast pots were still in the sink—they could whistle. The lazy mare always expected me to clean up after her.

  I'd just made myself a coffee when there was a knock at the door. Whatever they were selling, I didn't want any, so I ignored it. Another knock—they weren't going to give up. I nipped into my bedroom and threw on a dressing gown.

  “Who is it?” I called through the closed door.

  “Parcel for Alison Groves,” a male voice said.

  “Leave it there please.”

  “I need a signature.”

  “Alison isn't in.”

  “You can sign for it.”

  Alison was always ordering clothes online. She thought nothing of ordering five dresses, and sending four back. She'd even been known to wear one for a night out, and then to return it for a refund. I didn't know how she had the front. She'd kill me if I didn
't take the parcel in.

  “Just a minute.” I cracked the door open.

  “Hello there,” the man said. He had a box-shaped parcel in his arms.

  “Hi.” I waited for him to pass me the electronic thingamajig for me to sign, but he just stood there. “You said you wanted me to sign?” I said.

  “Could I bring this in? It's quite heavy.”

  I was about to wave him in when it occurred to me that he wasn't wearing a uniform. Instead, he wore an immaculate black suit. Tall, middle-aged with grey hair, the man looked as though he should have been working at an undertakers. I'm not sure why, but alarm bells were ringing. What if he was a mad axe murderer?

  “Sorry. You can't come in.” I glanced both ways down the corridor—hoping I might see one of the neighbours. There was no one in sight. “I'll sign for it, but you'll have to leave the parcel there.”

  “I'm not supposed to do that. If I could just step inside...?”

  “No.” I closed the door a little. If he made a move, I'd slam it shut on his face.

  He forced a smile, but I could see the anger in his eyes. “I'll come back another time,” he said, and was gone before I could say anything else.

  Alison was not going to be best pleased, but I didn't care. I was glad to see the back of weirdy mcweird.

  I checked the window. There was no sign of a delivery van in the car parking spaces in front of our block, but it was always possible he'd parked around the back. I was just about to go to the back window when I spotted him. He no longer had the parcel. Had someone else agreed to sign for it? I couldn't imagine who else would. Just then, he stopped and glanced up at my window, so I ducked out of sight. The man gave me a serious case of the creeps. After a few seconds, I risked another look. He was climbing into the driver's seat of a black Jag. What kind of delivery service provided their drivers with Jags?

  “Shit!” I almost jumped out of my skin when the phone in my pocket rang and vibrated.

  Caller display didn't show a name—just a number I didn't recognise.

  “Hello?” I was ready to give a mouthful to anyone asking if I'd considered changing my mobile service provider.