4. Four - Rebel

four - rebel

. . .

A slight breeze whips around my shoulders, leaving behind a mild chill. It's getting colder out. My toes are almost frozen by the time we get to Shots N' Sips. The music filters out through the door each time it opens. It's busy tonight, which is weird because it's not a special drinks night or anything.

"Shoot, that's right. I forgot they played tonight." Nova groans, looking down at her phone. "And they won. You sure you want to go in there and deal with cocky alphas?"

I stop and think about it for a minute before deciding that I need to drink, and I'm not going to let any alphas stand in the way of it. "Yeah, we can just ignore them." She raises an eyebrow again to say really, but then she nods her approval when I say nothing else.

The bar top in the center of the room has all of its bar stools currently occupied with people watching an assortment of sports across the big screens above them. Most of them look like they're discussing recaps from the hockey game tonight.

We claim a u-shaped table in the corner and scoot in. Better to get the lay of the land tonight before just blindly walking over. It's louder in this corner. We're back by the pool tables, and I've found exactly where our hockey stars are. You couldn't miss them. They're all tall and lean. Most are moderately attractive, but I'm not here for that tonight.

Although… I could use a good lay. I won't rule it out just yet.

Strong jaws, perfect hair, gorgeous smiles, and twinkling eyes filled with mischief. I can see the appeal now. I'd probably let one knot me. Speaking of… the puck bunnies have filtered in, flipping their hair, gently touching them, and flirting with them, trying to get someone's attention. A few of the alphas are falling for it, leaning against the walls, big grins plastered across their faces.

My eyes land on an alpha who's hanging out with the rest of the alphas, but his full attention is on me. His nostrils flare, and I inconspicuously try to sniff myself. You're going crazy, he can't scent you from here.

I can't see his eye color from here, but he has full lips and a killer jawline. He's got a model vibe; kinda cocky, extra hot.

His brows furrow, and his lips dip down at the corners as he keeps staring my way. Is that a look of anger? Shaking my head, I break eye contact first. I shouldn't care. I don't want an alpha.

Dark black jeans hug his obviously muscular thighs, and the sleeves on his tee shirt look like they're about to bust at the seams every time he moves his arms to flex. He looks dangerous, and right now, I crave it. Maybe Nova's right… maybe I am being self destructive?

I haven't been to many hockey games, but Nova has managed to drag me to a few of them. Hockey starts up every October, and the season goes until the spring if they're lucky. The Columbus Hellbenders were shit for a while, but with trades, it seems they're doing better. At least that's what Nova tells me.

Nova catches me staring at the guys and bumps my shoulder. "Hey, you should try out for the ice crew team with me. You don't have anything else going on."

She was voted in for this season. I remember the try outs, the worrying, the waiting, and then the jumping for joy and celebrating when she actually made it. Crazy, but she's right… What else do I have to do right now? "I don't skate well enough to do that, Nova."

I catch the whites of her eyes as she rolls them. "Give me a fucking break. You're fantastic on ice."

"I haven't been on ice since before he who shall not be named."

"It's like riding a bike… or a cock… you'll be good once you get back on." She winks at me, and I can't hold in the laugh. My stomach crunches, abs tightening with each gasped breath. It's been too long since I've felt the laughter burning my lungs as I try to breathe. Too long since I've found myself smiling like this, joy radiating from my pores. It could be alcohol-induced, but I don't care. I can't feel a damn thing.

"And on that note… I'm going to go grab us drinks. Any requests?" I slide out from the bench and stand, waiting for her response.

"Same as usual, I suppose." The words are followed by a grin. Tomorrow, we may be paying for it, but tonight, I fully plan to enjoy myself.

I saunter over to the bar and burrow my way in between two betas.

Lifting my hand, I capture the attention of the bartender, and he strolls over. He must be new because I've never seen him here before. Or maybe he just works nights? "What can I get ya?" He shoots me a knee weakening grin.

Definitely not an alpha, but holy hell, is he sexy. Unfortunately, betas and men in general are not on the menu right now. He's got a sexy boy scout look to him; not as built as the hockey players around us but definitely keeps in shape.

"Eight whiskey shots please."

He chuckles. "Starting out strong?"

"Yep, celebrating and all that." The lie slips so easily between my lips, floating away, and getting lost in the sounds surrounding the bar.

Turning around, he grabs top shelf whiskey, eight shot glasses, and starts pouring. "Hey, we can drink the cheap stuff… no reason to use the expensive whiskey," I say, not wanting to think about how much that probably costs.

"It's on the house. Looks like you could use it. What's the occasion, if you don't mind me askin'?"

My tongue slips out to lick my lips as I anticipate the burn of the alcohol we're about to drown in, and his eyes follow it. "Life and the demise of a rather shitty relationship." He winces, and I catch it.

He harrumphs. "Can't imagine a pretty little thing like you being single for long, though."

"I've sworn off men, so, yeah…" He gives me a dazzling white smile and tells me he'll see me later. That you will, sir. That you will.

I feel eyes on me as I walk across to the table where Nova sits, staring at the hockey players. Setting the glasses down, I push them across the table and slide in.

Nova raises a glass. "Let's do this. To ditching loser men who don't deserve us!"

"Here, here!" I raise my glass and clink it against hers before we pull back and toss them down. The taste is all too familiar as it burns down my throat, searing every inch of me. The sting reminds me that I'm alive, that, eventually, I will be okay. Well, I hope so, at least. "God, that's good," I whisper, leaning into Nova.

"In all seriousness, though. You sure you're okay? I really am kind of worried about you?" I can see it in her eyes, she is. I know she is. My mental health has run off the side of a cliff, and me with it, since I walked out on Brad. My heart beats faster every time my phone rings or dings with a text, wondering if it's him. There's absolutely no reason I should be cowed into feeling like I've done something wrong.

I'm hoping, eventually, the unknown caller just leaves me alone.

"I'll be okay. It'll just take time, and I really need to look for a job. I appreciate you taking me in like a little lost stray, but I need to start pulling my own weight around here."

"Well… I have some ideas. We can talk about them later."

People have come and gone from our table the whole time we've been here. Some of them are girls from the ice crew and some have introduced themselves as friends of Nova. An irrational stab of jealousy strikes initially, but I get over it quickly. I'm her best friend, not these people. If anyone tries to take my side bitch they won't like the consequences.

I've listened to them talk and gossip about the hockey team and who's dating who. Then they went on to talk about the new guy for the season and how well he's doing, who has a crush on him, etcetera, normal, typical bullshit girl chat.

Every time I look toward the pool tables, I find him staring back at me. The angry look still plastered across his face. No clue why he's angry… I don't even know who the hell he is. Whatever.

Nova is engaged in conversation with the skinny blonde sitting beside her, and I take the opportunity to lean in and bump her shoulder. "Hey, I'll be right back. Going to run to the bathroom."

She nods. "Okay." I excuse myself and follow the signs, a little unsteady on my feet, to the bathroom at the back of the bar. So, maybe those four shots did more than I thought.

Taking my time, I use the restroom, and then stop at the sink to look at myself. My dark eyeshadow looks even more smoky in the shadows of this bathroom. There are no fluorescent lights above me shining too brightly, only a few sconce lights beside the sinks. The warm water comes cascading out of the sink and onto my soap-covered hands.

The haunted look that I saw staring back at me for the first couple of weeks at Nova's has shimmered away, leaving behind a girl who looks almost like she has her shit together. Almost. I run my damp fingers through my hair, messing it up a bit, and then smear on lip gloss that I've been keeping in my pocket since we left the house.

Satisfied with how I look, I leave but am stopped by a guy outside the restroom.

"Hey, Omega." He gives me a once over that makes my skin crawl, but I give a polite fuck the hell off smile anyhow.

He's taller. Definitely about fifteen to twenty years older than me; his wrinkles showing in places that wouldn't show on a twenty-something-year-old. He has wavy, tousled blonde hair and crisp blue eyes. If he wasn't giving me total creep factor vibes, I may actually be interested. But that thought quickly fades.

He pushes off the wall, letting his arms drop to his sides, and inches towards me as I turn to walk away. Leave me alone. I can see Nova at the table from here, still engaged in the conversation with Jess, I think that was the name she gave me.

A hand wraps around my wrist, and I turn, a glare firmly placed on him, my teeth gritted in frustration. "Look, buddy. I'm not interested. So you can take yourself elsewhere."

He sneers at me as I eye him. "And what if I don't want to? What if I want to grab you, take you back into the bathroom, and have my way with you. It's not like you could stop me." He leans in, and I can smell the alcohol clinging to his breath and the unpleasant odor he carries. I try to hold my breath because it literally makes me want to vomit. Warmth presses against my skin before I realize how close he is to my ear. "All I'd have to do is growl you into submission. One little growl, and you'd be begging me for this cock." He crudely grabs at himself

"Let me go."

"No." I should be afraid of him, but the shots have given me some depth of confidence. "I don't think I will. In fact, I'd think by the way you're dressed that you're almost asking for it."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I seethe. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"You prissy little cunts who think you can walk around flashing all that skin like you're offering yourself to us, and then you claim to not want it. But you do because why else would you wear something like this sexy little dress? Other than to tease men like me. To say, ‘hey, look at me,' but not be available."

"Fuck off," I seethe.

He seems to think for a minute. "Nah, I think I'd rather fuck you, baby." I cringe before he turns, his grip tightening on my wrist as he tries to drag me back to the bathroom. I try to plant my feet, grab onto a wall, anything, but my hands are clammy, and they slip off. He's almost got me to the bathroom door, and a tinge of fear finally kicks in. That magical fight-or-flight mode. Since I can't fly, it looks like I'm fighting.

When he stops to finagle the door open, I take my opportunity, raising my arm up, and biting the shit out of his wrist. He screeches in pain and releases me. My feet start moving without my brain saying a word. I'm almost down the hallway and into the bar before a hand wraps around my hair and yanks back, hard. I try to cry out, but I'm not sure anyone can hear me over the chatter and music. "Oh, you really are a stupid bitch, aren't you? Now I'm going to make it hurt. We'll see what you say when you can't get away."

My unease grows into downright discomfort. I'm holding onto my hair so it hurts less when he pulls. I've never liked the feeling. "You don't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do." He sneers at me, and a tendril of fear winds through me, but I refuse to cower in front of him. I won't let him see me vulnerable. My heart rate ratchets up, and my pulse is pounding in my ears. It's a sobering experience; waiting for the worst to happen. Panic starts to claw at my insides, begging me to fight harder with every inch closer we step towards the bathroom. My lungs spasm, and I can't breathe, an elephant's full weight lodges in my chest.

It's toxic. He's toxic. Fear spirals within me. Every time I inhale, it's like sucking on chunks of glass, and with each suck, a shard sets deeper in my throat. Soon, I won't be able to breathe around it, my lungs burning with the need for oxygen.

The pounding of my heart is louder now, as if someone is in there banging on the walls of my chest, speeding up without my permission. Dread turns to ice. I shouldn't have been such a bitch, hell, I should've tried harder to fucking run. He pushes open the bathroom door and sneers at me over his shoulder on the way in.

"No!" I yell at him. I grab onto the door jam, trying again to plant myself, but he's too strong. He pulls me in and slams the door behind me. This is it. This is what happens when you're drunk and not paying attention. Scenes of my time at Eberly's house flash before my eyes. It's happening all over again.

My body is teetering on the edge. I feel like I'm going to pass out; fear so palpable I can taste it. He manhandles me up against the wall and puts his hand around my throat. "You're not going to cooperate, so I'll make this easy on myself. Look at this tight little body. I bet that pussy is just as good."

It wraps harder around my throat, his fingers digging into the beating vein in my neck. His other hand starts to feel me up, starting at my neck and working his way down, lifting up the bottom of my dress. I want to tell him no again, but it comes out as a small puff of air. Bile forms as his hand finds the warmth between my legs. My head starts to feel woozy, white spots make their presence known behind my eyes, and I start to slowly lose consciousness. At least I won't have to be awake when he violates me. I'm disgusted with myself for not fighting harder. But I'm quickly losing to the darkness as it sweeps in.

It's tranquil in the space between reality and unconsciousness, realizing that life is no longer at the forefront. Now, I'll just drift off. Let myself be free from this life that's caused so much damage to me. It's almost peaceful as it pulls me in like a siren in the night, whispering that it will be okay if I just close my eyes.

All of a sudden, his hand disappears from around my neck, and I'm gasping for air, grabbing for my neck. I can still feel his hand wrapped there. My view is warped, twisted. I blink a few times, but it's hard to focus on anything. Two shadows move in front of me. The sound of skin hitting skin ricochets in the small space. Growls fill my ears as I slide down the wall and onto the floor. My hands come up to cover my ears. It's too much; overwhelming. My breathing is rapid again as I pant. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I lean my head back. It's him . The alpha from the pool table.

His lip is cut, and blood drips down his chin. His eyes are blown in anger as he pounds into my would-be assaulter. He gives him one more shove, and the guy falls to the ground. "Get the fuck out of here before I call the police, and if I so much as see you around her again, you'll wish I'd just killed you instead."

Mr. Tough Guy scrambles to his feet and glares at me before he hightails it out of the restroom. Not so big and bad now are you, you asshole.

The sound of my saviors breathing in the room is loud. I watch as blood drips from his knuckles onto the floor. He fades in and out of my vision. I think I'm going to pass out. My head spins. Warm hands grab my shoulders briefly before I let the darkness consume me.