1 - The Debt

~Harlow’s Point of View~

~End of April~

“Boss, there’s a little cute piece of ass here asking for you,” I hear, from somewhere just inside.

I blow out a hard breath, doing all I can to keep it together. It doesn’t matter. They’ll see me sweating, hear my heart racing. Can’t hide a damn thing from shifters. But this is too important. This is past rock bottom, out of options. There’s no one else that I can turn to. Hell, I don't even know if I can turn to … him.

Desperate is a bad look but especially on me.

“She looks a lot younger than your usual,” I hear, as I roll my eyes. Heavy footsteps and the sounds of laughter flitter into my ears from different sections of the building.

The blood in every crevice of my body seems to shoot between my ears, nearly making me think the ocean is in my head. Or my heart is about to explode. No one knows I’m here, and no one would miss me anyhow. They could toss me off a cliff, toss me into a fire pit. 

“What’s her name,” a deep voice asks, and I barely catch it. 

An ice cold shiver shoots up my spine in recognition. That voice has haunted me for too long and now here I am… on his doorstep. You don’t ask him for favors. You certainly don’t ask him for money. You don’t want to be ANYWHERE on his radar. 

Too late for that, cause here I am.

“Says her name is Harlow, said you’d remember her…” I hear, as the voice trails off. 

A thick plume of smoke curls out of the cracked door’s shadow, nearly making me sneeze. But I hold it together. Strength, confidence. That’s what they respond to. Weak little girls are a dime a dozen. 

It seems as if an hour goes by, but finally I hear the creak of the door. The male I’d first spoken to pops out from inside and flicks his head. I lick my lips and step forward.

“Did you search her,” I hear, just behind me. 

“Like I’d be dumb enough to come here with a weapon,” I retort, but raise my hands in obedience anyhow. Simple, not stupid.

“Can’t be too careful,” I hear, as large hands begin groping and moving over my skin. I practiced for this last night, I knew they would search me. They could give me a full cavity search for all I knew and I wouldn’t be able to refuse. 

When he takes his time between my legs, rubbing several times, I bite my tongue hard. What an asshole!

“This one is nice and fresh, clean and … who doesn’t love pigtails,” the voice whispers, just inside my ear.

When he jerks away abruptly, I’m thankful as hell for small favors. Maybe something spooked him, or someone, I can only hope.

I follow the first male into a dimly lit space. It’s wide open with several small tables, a bar on the far wall with at least two dozen people milling about. All drinking, smoking. One couple in the corner I’m sure is screwing but I don’t look. 

My eyes finally catch sight of the only male I need to see and he’s absolutely terrifying. He slides out of a round booth and rises to his full height, forcing me to look up. Goddess, he’s handsome though, even with his age. Even with a few scars on his face. Somehow he’s more handsome than I remember but it was dark when we met and I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. The aura around him is intense, even a pup without her wolf could tell that.

He’s in a black sleeveless muscle shirt and tight jeans. Crudely drawn tattoos adorn all the skin I can see, but most shifters have similar ink. Just like any other guy just hitting the bar after a long day for a cool drink and eye candy.

Only he’s not just any guy. He owns this place and basically anywhere within a half day’s run of here. And nothing… nothing happens here without his say-so. Without him knowing. 

And I don’t even know his name. I know what people call him but I’m not sure I can say that to his face. I’d asked to see the guy in charge and I guess they figured it out.

“Long time no see little Harlow. Though I suppose, that’s a good thing huh,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. I return it with a forced smile of my own and hold out my hand when he gestures for it. He kisses my knuckles with a few small pecks, then pulls me slightly toward him. I prepared for this too, but I’m banking on him being a gentleman. I need him to be.

“Please, sit. I already ordered you a soda,” he says, as I push my way into the center of the bench. His voice is calm but yet so commanding, it’s intense and only adds to my nerves. But I can’t show it.

“I appreciate you seeing me. Unfortunately I--” I stop myself, when a female puts drinks down. He hands her some money and she bats her eyes at him. She, of course, is completely naked. 

“Sorry sweet dear, you were saying,” he says, turning his attention back to me.

The cold drink in front of me is far too appealing, especially since I haven’t eaten all day. I reach for it and take a long pull, absolutely savoring not only the icy feel but the sugar that immediately courses through my starved veins. When I set the glass down, he’s eying me with curiosity. 

“I have no leads on my parents. Everyone tells me to let them go but I just can’t. Obviously, I have no money or standing in the community. No one knows my birthday so when I get my wolf is anyone’s guess. It seems my current living situation is no longer viable and therefore I require employment,” I say, giving him a small smile.

He bursts out laughing. I expect him to ridicule me, berate me. Laugh in my face at the very idea that he could be bothered with me.

“You’ve been in the books quite a bit huh? Listen to you! You sound like my lawyer. Do you read as well you speak child,” he asks, and it's only then I notice exactly how he’s looking at me. He’s serious, he isn’t what I expected.

Every male set of eyes in here has looked at me like I’m dinner, dessert or both. But not him. There’s a fondness to his gaze I’ve only seen a few times. Usually from one of my teachers. It’s actually… nice. It’s the same look he gave me years ago when we first met. Almost fatherly.

“I do. Education is very important to me, it means a better life hopefully. Maybe one day finding my parents,” I say, as I recall remembering the good life I had once, when I was very young. When my parents loved me. Though everyday the memories fade more.

I quickly grab the frosty cup and help myself again. By the time I see the bottom of the glass, a massive basket of hamburgers, french fries and onion rings are put in front of me. My stomach nearly grows a hand to reach for it. 

As we eat, he begins asking me about school. About my teachers and even sports … which I have zero knowledge of naturally. I’m honestly surprised at his interest, but it's nice to talk to someone. I have no friends and that’s putting it mildly. Imagine finding a companion with the devil himself.

After we share the meal and we’re both in good spirits, a male of a similar large build appears out of nowhere, and pushes himself into the booth next to me. It’s all I can do not to be intimidated but despite being in the belly of the beast, I know I’m safe here.

I think.

“Ohh is this the girl? The one I’m supposed to look after if our enemies finally have their way? Be careful what you wish for, little girl you are after all the devil’s lair,” he says, with a massive grin as he spreads his arms out over the back. I sit up straight at that, not phased by the last bit.

The devil actually said that? He wants me to have protection even if he dies? 

Tears actually prick at my eyes, as emotions flood me. The idea that someone cares at all. I’m invisible at best, the gum on your shoe sometimes. 

“I can’t believe how grown she is now! What a firecracker too. Saving her life was definitely a smart business move it seems. And here you thought I just had a soft spot,” I hear, and turn back to my left. 

I’m a … business move? 

And there it is. I’m in his debt, yet I’ve come to ask him for a favor. I always figured he would come for me eventually. I’m too young to do what most females do for him, but certainly they need help here. Someone to make clothes or cook. Scrubbing toilets is hardly appealing but I’d have to take it. I’ll take anything at this point.

“This is my brother Caden. Anything you’d need to tell me you can tell him,” I hear. 

I rest my hands against my full belly without thinking about it, feeling content for the first time in a long time. Maybe enjoying the last few minutes I have from the cruel world. While I haven’t had it easy, I’m still in a bubble. Shielded from things outside my orbit. Working for the devil is opening a different door, my face will be seen, questions will be asked.

“I think I’m going to need some details on exactly why Billy and Betty aren't good foster parents. Must I pay them a visit,” I hear, as tears form in my eyes. I had a feeling he would want to know, he probably already does. I hadn’t even told him their names, but there it is.

There is zero loyalty owed to my current “parents” but for some reason I don’t tell him everything. Both males listen intently though, as if they’re taking notes. By the time I’m done, neither seem surprised. I can’t imagine they’d take well to my “parents” abusing me, hitting me in just the right spots for my clothes to hide the bruises. Locking me in a shed outside for days on end with no food in the blistering heat, the freezing cold. I explained that I need a job so I can live on my own, or at least without needing them. Maybe the nearby pack would take me in if I could contribute.

I did mention that they don’t give me food or clothes. They actually lock the fridge and cupboards with real padlocks. Sometimes there are so many pups in the house I’ve had to sleep in the bathtub or outside. I’ve never had my own room or my own bed. I have a roof yes but outside of that I’m on my own. 

My “parents” have friends and even family that stare at me, undressing me with their eyes. I feel as if I’m days away from being taken and sold. Billy has threatened to do it many times. I need the kind of protection only this male can provide. I need a sign on my forehead that demands I be left alone. If I work for him, I not only get money but the protection that comes with it.

In theory.

“Your parents probably left you for good reason. Leave well enough alone and be grateful for what you have,” Caden says, matter of fact. My jaw falls at that, but I quickly close it. I know far better than to say anything.

“Shut the fuck up and get out of here before I have a reason to come across this table. You weren’t there! You don’t know! Harlow will stay close to me, to us. I’ve failed to keep track of her properly, that’s my burden to bear,” I hear, as every hair on my body stands on end. I briefly close my eyes, remembering that awful night. The night the devil saved me, and my parents were taken. The memories fade a bit each day but they’re still there.

The Alpha voice is level, but absolutely dripping with the promise to make good on his threat. 

It’s as if the entire room stops, everyone terrified at what might happen. I don’t dare speak, I’m not sure if I breathe. 

“I should go…” I whisper, but clearly can’t go anywhere sandwiched between the giants. 

No! Not without his help. 

“I think there’s more,” I hear, as Caden grabs at my hand. He quickly shoves up my sleeve, exposing many bruises and even a couple cigarette burns. Tears quickly form in my eyes as both males quite literally growl. I snatch my hand back and quickly look down at my lap.

It’s quiet for a long couple of minutes, with none of us speaking. Though I’m certain the males are mind-linking each other.

A female comes back and sets down a pad of paper and pencil, then leaves just as quickly. I sit perfectly still as the male scribbles something down. When he hands me the page, I study it for a minute. It’s a map.

“You know where this is,” he questions, his voice firm. I nod.

“It’s in the woods behind my school, kids go back there to smoke or…” I trail off, not wanting to say it. 

Gross.

“Find the tree that looks like this first thing in the morning. It’ll be there before sunrise. You will absolutely not look inside, shake it or otherwise hurt the package. It can be easily hidden in your school bag but it’s delicate. A driver is taking you to and from school starting tomorrow. His name is Trek and he’ll give you instructions directly from me. He’ll pay you weekly for your help and discretion. He’s the only other person who should touch the package, he’ll take it from you,” he explains. 

I practically crane my neck to get close to him, unsure I heard that correctly.

“You want to pay me to carry around a little box all day? That’s seriously it,” I question. 

But he doesn’t answer with words, just a wink. He then moves to get up but I brazenly reach for his arm. His eyes immediately glow with our contact and he smiles. 

“What uhm… what should I call you anyhow,” I ask, instantly regretting it. Might be pressing my luck.

He gives a curt nod as I let go.

“Oh, I let those I actually like… and consider as part of my close family…” he says, stopping to glare at his brother.

“Call me Skip,” he says, winking again before turning to walk away.