Chapter 137
Haiden:
Flashback!
“Haiden, come on, let’s go!” my friends called as we got ready to cause some ruckus at the mate ball. It was a mate ball for those who had turned 18 this year. I was not. I was only 16 at the time, but that did not mean I didn’t want to be involved. I just wanted to be part of it in the most natural way I could.
We were holding water balloons, sitting on top of the buildings. Some of the packs had decided to throw a mate ball together, so we knew a lot of the packs would be coming over to celebrate. There would be many 18-year-olds dressed in fancy gowns and suits. I could not wait to ruin their night. That was my plan, by the way, and my friends were listening.
As we sat on top of the building, ready to hit anyone in front of us, my eyes landed on someone in the distance. The same hat on her head, a baggy sweater with baggy pants, a bag on her back. It was her, there was no mistaking it. I could recognize her among a billion people, and that soured my mood.
“Dude, let her be, she’s just minding her own business. Remember the plan we have?” my friend nudged me, noticing I had been staring too hard. She must be heading toward the cafe where she cleaned the kitchen and everything, earning her own money. I hated how she always acted so down to earth, like she had to earn her own way. Same rich bratty attitude Alphas Stark’s daughters had. They were both bratty, one just accepted it, the other was more cunning.
“You guys do it, I’ll be back in a minute,” I called out, hearing my friends sigh as they realized I was no longer focused on fun or ruining anyone else’s night. There was only one person whose night I wanted to ruin. I rushed down the empty building, heading toward the end of the street where she was going.
I was halfway there when I noticed someone following her. My stomach sank. She wasn’t paying attention, probably had her headphones in, like always. She was the dumbest person ever. You don’t just walk down a silent street in the dark with earbuds in. But of course, Clementine was the epitome of stupidity.
I frowned as the man approached her, slipped his arm under her chin, and put her in a headlock. She screamed and tried to fight back, but there was no way she could. The man looked about 45 years old, far stronger than a timid 15- or 16-year-old girl. Part of me just watched as he dragged her to the corner. I knew what he intended. And somehow, even remembering what her father had done to my mother, I couldn’t let another man do this to anyone else.
I sprinted. I sprinted so hard that when I landed a punch on the man’s face and threw him off. He fell, groaning, but before I could strike again, he was already on his feet and running away.
Once the man ran away, I noticed Clementine adjusting her hat, even though it was stuck to her head.
“Thank you,” she uttered, taking deep, heavy breaths. I kept staring at her face before lunging, grabbing her by the collar and shaking her before tossing her against the wall, pinning her in place. She didn’t even fight back.
“Are you done already?” she asked calmly, and that blew my mind. I hated how every time I tried to teach her a lesson, her reaction was so cold and mild that I began to feel incapable of scaring her.
“You think you’re cool?” I hissed at her, grunting as she shrugged.
“I never said I am, but thanks for letting me know,” she replied even more calmly.
“You know what? I can fucking kill you right now and nobody will find out,” I said, shaking her harder and slamming her back against the wall. She didn’t even try to pry my hands open; her hands stayed in her pockets.
“Okay,” she said. “What’s stopping you?” Her tone was icy.
As I stood so close, her face inches from mine, I noticed her tiny button nose. It was so adorable. Then I saw the freckles on her face, making her stand out even more. Freckles were always my weakness. I gulped, trying not to think about it again. Yes, again. Because last time, when I confronted her, these thoughts had returned. I hated it. I hated thinking that way. And every time I did, I wanted to punch her in the face. She didn’t deserve that. Not after her father had shown no mercy to my mother.
But here I was, staring too hard. Then Clementine smirked. She quickly raised her knee, and before I could react, she hit me in the groin.
As I groaned in pain, stepping back with my hands holding my crotch, she began to chuckle. “No man, no monster, no woman had ever been born to kill Clementine. The day I die,” she said confidently, “is the day I want to stop living.” Her words made me spring to my feet, trying to grab her.
But she spun around with knuckle dusters on, and the next thing I knew, the silver from them slammed into my cheek, splitting it open. I hissed in pain, kneeling and covering my face with my hand as she sprinted away.
Before disappearing, she shouted over her shoulder, “Fuck around and find out,” letting me know it was all my fault.
End Of Flashback:
I had grown up with the memory of my mother in that state because of Mr. Stark, and then there was the memory of my sister being taken away. I wanted to find her again, to speak to her, to hug her and let her know that her useless brother was grown up now, and that nobody—no one—would ever hurt her again. But it wasn’t possible. She was lying in my arms in two pieces.