Little Dahlia

Ch. 5 - Party, Basement, Alcohol

"Nice party," she congratulates.

"Thanks."

Naomi starts taking Rayna around, introducing her. She's spent plenty of time with Mimi to know a good portion of her family, though there's still some others she hasn't met. Mr. and Mrs. West take pictures. Mimi has Rainy help herself to the food, but eventually, Naomi has to go off with other people and take other pictures.

Rayna starts to get uncomfortable, and that anxious, dreaded feeling comes back. She taps Naomi on the back.

"I- I gotta g- go," she stutters out in a whisper. Naomi gives a look of acknowledgment, nodding. She wraps her in a nice, tight, comforting hug.

"I'll see you Wednesday, okay?"

"Okay."

Then, Rayna turns on her heel and heads back into the woods.

She strips, ties her clothes again, shifts, runs back home, shifts, dresses, and walks hesitantly up the steps. She hears Johnathan yelling.

"Where the hell is she?!" he screams. Rayna cringes, wondering how long he's been looking for her. She doesn't sense anyone else in the house. She hears glass breaking and opens the door.

A fuming beta turns to her.

"Where the hell were you?" he growls, walking closer. She backs against the door.

"No where, sir. J- Just the woods," she answers, only partially truthful. If he knew she was at a party, he'd be even angrier.

"Woods, my ass." He grabs her by the neck and starts choking her. She panics and grabs his wrist, trying to tug him away. They both know it's useless. He's 7 inches taller and has well over twice the amount of muscle and body weight she has.

"Pick that up," he orders, slamming her against the wall and then motioning towards pieces of broken glass. She gasps for air before crawling over to the broken shards on the floor. It's what she had heard break. In her haste, she picks it up piece by piece, not caring how sharp one is or if it cuts her.

She throws them in the trash before washing her bloody hands as to not make any more of a mess and grabbing a broom and dustpan to get any little bits she missed.

"Basement," John orders, standing by the open door to the stairs that lead down.

She hesitates.

"Don't make me force you," he growls.

She scurries over and starts walking down the stairs. She must not be fast enough, since Johnathan pushes her down halfway. It reminds her of Friday, when Travis and his friends had pushed her down the bleachers.

"Where were you really, huh?" Johnathan barks, picking her up and throwing her across the cold basement floor. "I bet you were going around being a slut. No man's gonna want a whore for a mate."

Rayna knows what she was doing. She wasn't being a slut. Even so, he's managed to get it into her head that she's a whore. She had 'sex' before she met her mate. She's a disgusting piece of shit. She's used. Damaged goods. Broken. Useless.

Johnathan beats her with words, fists, and whips for nearly an hour straight, prioritizing how she's too worthless to have a mate.

"The Alpha King is stopping by Thursday. Since you are unworthy of even standing in his presence, you must be home by 2 o'clock sharp. Any later and you won't be able to stand at all.

"Now, I have business to attend. The basement is beginning to stink. Clean it by supper time."

With that, Johnathan heads upstairs.

Rayna lays on the floor in the fetal position. Silent tears slip from her eyes. Her entire body aches. She's bloody. Luckily, not all of her clothes were ruined. The top and bra are okay. The leggings just need to be washed. The underwear is unsalvageable.

She groans in pain as she gets to her feet, leaning against the wall for support as her vision darkens for a moment. She limps over to and up the stairs. She walks over to the closet to grab cleaning supplies.

She hears the door open but doesn't really process it. There's a gasp.

"Rayna!" It's Jamie.

She turns as she has the product in hand. He rushes over and places the stuff on the ground before she can process.

"What?" she whispers.

"C'mon, let's go into the bathroom," he coaxes. He helps her start walking.

"I . . . Need to . . . Clean the basement. B- By supper," she explains, cringing at her pain.

"I'll help you with that in a second. For now, let's patch you up."

Jamie sits her down on the closed toilet seat and grabs a first aid kit from his room. She could go to the pack doctor. She has before, but Johnathan doesn't like her seeking help. Last time, he locked her away for a couple days as punishment.

After a few minutes of Jamie inspecting her injuries and helping her change into clean clothes, he carries the supplies and then her down the stairs. He masks his scent so that Johnathan can't tell he was down there, too.

Together, they clean the basement. This also included cleaning off the whips and knives down there. There was dried blood dating back to over a month ago.

It takes about two hours before Jamie takes Rayna back upstairs to start cooking supper. He puts the supplies away and helps her still. By now, she's nearly healed besides the whip marks, though she must've hit her head hard at one point. It'll take food, water, and a good nights sleep for her to stop limping and be able to think straight.

The only reason she's able to make supper is from muscle memory.

Jamie makes a sandwich for her and makes her eat it, along with a glass of water and some pills. One's a pain killer, another's for sleeping, and the last is a healing pill.

She's passed out in bed by 5:56.

*~*~*~*

"You know, Ray . . . Sometimes, I wish I were you. A bird with wings and no responsibilities. Then I could go wherever the fuck I wanted with no consequences. I could shit on people for all I fucking care, and they couldn't do shit about it. I could finally get away from this place."

When she woke up, the clock read 12:48 AM. She stole some alcohol from the cellar behind the pack house and is now tipsy in the woods, talking to Ray. He looks and sounds concerned, trying to get her away from the bottle.

"I'm not gonna get caught, Ray. Half the pack are alcoholics, so no ones going to miss a bottle or two," she slurs. "And I'm not addicted. This is the first time in a couple months, and I'm not gonna drink too much. It just . . . It really hurts, ya know? I don't want it to hurt, even if just for a little bit."

Ray croaks, rubbing his face against her neck. She giggles.

"Ray," she says, stretching out the 'a'. "Stop that."