Chapter 7 - Plan

Jessica POV

                   My face was swollen and pounding in pain as we arrived back to the pack territory.  I had curled up against the door of the SUV as we drove home.  Tears tracked down my cheeks, as much from pain as despair at the thoughts of my future.  I could not erase the thoughts of that beast from my mind.

                  How he had leered at my body.  Licking his dry lips, like he was ready to jump me.  My father had done nothing to protect my dignity.  Not that I was surprised but I had held onto some ridiculous notion that even he had a limit.  Clearly that limit excluded anything to do with me.

                  “You will do your usual chores this week.  The pack will be advised they cannot touch you,” my father stated coldly.  “Does that include you?” I whispered through my split lip.  My father grabbed a fistful of my hair whipping my head around to look at his face.

                  “I promise you … wedding or not, you continue to defy me, and you will not be able to walk down that aisle next weekend,” he swore.  I looked at him, wanting to beg him to do whatever it took to prevent me from going next weekend, but I knew my body could not take any more abuse. 

                   The wolfsbane that was always in my system prevented me from healing properly.  I knew I had bruised ribs; he had stopped just short of cracking them.  He knew if he had cracked them, I would be limited in what I could do around the pack house. 

                  I simply turned away from him as we pulled up to the pack house.  I opened my door and almost fell out before landing on my shaky legs.  I slowly limped away from my father and his men, heading towards my pitiful room in the pack house.  I slipped inside, more tears falling down my face.

                   I looked around the room, and wanted to change, but I knew the movement would be worse than simply sleeping in my torn dress.  I moved to the simple cot with the thin mattress that had been my bed for years.  The mattress was super thin; coils stuck through to cause aches and pains in my young body.

                   It did not matter.  In a week, I would be in a new fresh hell and who knew what I would be sleeping on at that place.  I was nauseous thinking about what was to become of me.  Why could I not have found my mate tonight?  Why would the Moon Goddess forsake me?

                   I thought back to the happy faces I had passed as we left the event hall.  People finding their mates.  The excitement on their faces.  The happiness, and the sense that love was in the air.  Did I not deserve that same fate?  That same love … true love?

                  I started to sob, as I considered what was to become of me.  I knew it would be torture, and I could only hope I died early on rather than live a life of the horrid existence I knew waited for me.  I needed to escape, I thought crazily.  Was there a way I could get away from my father?

                  I had no idea what to do or how to do it.  Without a wolf, I am no more than a human.  With human strength and human instincts.  Which would not fare well in the werewolf world that I currently was living.  I sat there, my body throbbing in pain as I contemplated how I might be able to escape the hell awaiting me.

                   It took me a while to fall asleep as I perfected my plan for escaping my father’s control.  I groaned as I slowly woke and looked at my cracked clock.  I had managed to scrounge it from someone who had tossed it out as they got newer technology.

                  I gasped as I realized I had slept in.  I had forgot to set the alarm and was now going to have to race to get meals ready before the warriors came in from training.  I quickly removed the gown I had fallen asleep in.  I frowned as I saw the bruises all over my body from my father’s abuse the night before.

                   I slipped on leggings and a t-shirt making no effort to hide the bruises.  It was no secret that they all had the opportunity to abuse me, so hiding the bruising made no difference.  I slipped my feet into a pair of flats I had found in the garbage one day and raced towards the kitchens.

                  Nobody was there, not that I was surprised.  Most Omegas were late, especially when they knew if they arrived early, it would help me, and they would not think to do that.  I quickly started getting food cooking for the warriors and as I was just finishing plating the eggs and bacon, I slipped out into the main dining hall and placed the platters of food on the table.

                  The warriors glanced at me, but nobody made any comment about the bruises and cuts that they could see on my body.  They chose to ignore them and simply went about preparing their plates with the food I had provided to them.  As I went back into the kitchen, I brought out a second pot of hot coffee for the warriors.

                   “Where is the orange juice?” one shouted out.  I quickly turned around and grabbed the vases filled with fresh squeezed orange juice.  I could not feel my hands when I was done, but I never skimped knowing what would happen if I did not deliver what was expected.

                   As I stood by the kitchen counter, waiting for the warriors to finish eating so they could continue with their training, I considered the plan I had come up with last night.  Would I be able to go through with it?  Would I be able to escape and find someone who would help me escape my father?

                   I had to try.  The alternative was not acceptable.  I would succeed, even if it killed me.