Okay, so someone should have reminded present-day Kaia, once again, that entering a border is much easier than trying to cross out of one because present-day Kaia now has a healing bullet wound in her right shoulder.
I can't tell for certain whether or not border patrol knew who I was, but they did know what I was. They were most definitely not willing to let a rogue slip through unharmed. Hence the bullet wound. Honestly, the bullet launching itself into my shoulder wasn't that bad if you compare it to the pain I felt having to remove it with a stick afterward. I'm sure the fact that I ended up breaking the stick in half as it was in my shoulder didn't help the pain much either. Go figure.
Luckily, I did manage to cross over the border. Not easily, but I made it.
Now, I have a blister on the back of my heel the size of Mexico that literally has me wanting to hack my foot off. Walking west of a border for nearly three days straight in sandals two sizes too small does that to a person. The poor, little, white tank top was unfortunately soaked in a deep crimson, so I needed to find other means of clothing. This also resulted in another blood stain, but it wasn't mine or as noticeable as the other one. Got to love black clothing.
I downed my third tequila shot relishing in the taste that I had missed so much. The bartender eyed me cautiously. Humans were so worrisome. Sure, tequila did mess me up a bit, but that's after nearly ten shots. Three shots weren't going to do much to me besides maybe make me say a few things that I'll regret. I tend to do that sober, so it isn't much of a big deal for me.
I sat the small shot glass down on the counter with a smile directed to the bartender before walking away into a crowd of obnoxiously drunken idiots.
Bar hopping was a hobby of mine that I had missed. It wasn't the feeling of whiskey burning down my throat or the crowds of beligerently drunk people that I missed, though. It was the line crossing that usually happened some time after.
Pushing through the masses of sweaty bodies, I made my way to a bathroom. I breathed in deeply taking in the aroma of smoke that hit me like a brick wall as soon as I yanked the door open. My smile grew even larger if that were even possible. I took long strides to face myself in the mirror.
In all honesty, I was kind of a mess. I managed to rent a motel in unclaimed territory for a night with the forty bucks little luna had in her back pocket. I used that time to take about seven showers. I was smart enough to know that going into pack territory wounded was a stupid idea. It's stupid mistakes like that, that get rogues killed. Packs are not to be taken lightly. The next day, I went to the nearest dollar store and stole a tooth brush, some razors, deodorant, and gummy worms. Me being the idiot that I am forgot to steal toothpaste. You can imagine my displeasure of having to brush my teeth with soap from the motel. I still had yet to get any new clothes, so I had to deal with the blood smudge. The jeans were seriously warming up to me, though. They were like baggy sweatpants, but in blue-jean form.
Thanks to the multitude of showers, my hair now looked like the light brown that it originally had been before being locked in a cell for who knows how long. The amount of dirt and grime that came off of not only my hair but my body as a whole in the shower was morbidly disgusting. I can honestly say that I have never seen myself so pale after any former color from the years of grime was washed away.
My pale skin allowed for the obvious view of a plentitude of scars that I had managed to aquire over the years. The most evident flaw being the scar that made itself known across my forehead. I was not a fan of it.
"Screw you, Kaden," I muttered lightly brushing my fingertips over the unwanted mark. The memory of it was not a happy one. Kaden, my older brother, had given it to me after he threw me down a flight stairs one day. I think we were in Ontario, Canada, but I truly don't remember. We've been in so many places that I can't even name off half of them. All that I recall from the incident was Mom having a full blown panic attack as she took in my bleeding head. Kaden looked as if he had just seen a ghost obviously upset with himself by what he had done, and Dad just told me to get up and walk it off. Again, that was the type of environment I grew up in.
I let out a sigh as I met my own blue eyes through the reflection of the mirror before letting them trail down to a certain area on my shoulder. I hastily pulled down the shirt collar expecting to see the bullet wound, but was only met with a small, circular scar. I smirked knowing that the one thing holding me back from entering pack territory was now healed. My day just gets better and better.
I left the bar without paying. Yeah, that bartender really should have seen that coming.
"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb," I sang gingerly walking down the sidewalk. I shoved my hands into my pockets feeling the cool chill of the night nipping at my skin. It didn't bother me. It was just a bit unwanted.
"Oh, hello border. So nice to finally meet you," I greeted to the imaginary boundary line as I crossed over into someone's territory. Scents of pack wolves wafted to my nose bringing a smile to my lips. "Oh, how I've missed this."
Whoever's land this was obviously did not want me or any trespasser for that matter here. The border was heavily patrolled by both men, women, and wolves. There was absolutely, positively no way in hell that I was getting any further than ten steps past the border without being chased and maybe even killed.
I wasn't an idiot.
I was not going to do anything reckless for at least another week.
"I hate pack wolves," I muttered to myself, sluggishly dragging my feet across the sidewalk of a back alley in unclaimed territory. I did not want to come back, but it wasn't smart of me to just jump into pack wolf territory. I couldn't just ignore the fact that the most strenuous thing I had done in the past year or whatever was trying to do a cartwheel in my cell which did not work out well. My body was really not ready to play tag with some pack wolves. "I hate alphas. I hate people in general," I grumbled.
I continued rambling to myself about my hatred for anything that inhaled oxygen. In a perfect world, I would already be over the border. I would be plotting the steps I would have to take in order to murder the pack's beta. Packs normally grow to be pretty useless without their beta. It's a specialty of mine. It's also the reason I ended up in cell for quite some time.
"Motherfu-," I said going to curse pack wolves once again but froze in my tracks when a certain scent hit me that had a sadistic smile spreading across my face. "Well, well, well. Wasn't expecting pack wolves to be out of their territory," I thought aloud. If I weren't walking alone in a dark alley, someone would probably deem me as insane. "Things just got a little more interesting."
If someone would have told me I would end up in the same bar twice in one night, I would have straight up called them a liar. Unfortunately—for the first time ever, I would have been wrong.
I'm really starting to feel an emotional connection with The Hilltop. It's such a cute, little bar to murder someone in.
Lucky for me, the bartender from earlier was not present. That lifted a weight off of my shoulders knowing I wouldn't have to pay my bill from earlier. It's not like I really could if I wanted to, though, seeing as I have no money. I blame that on little luna for only carrying forty bucks.
The bar smelled abnormally pleasant. I don't mean this in a way that the bar's aroma did not smell of sweaty, alcohol-ridden losers because, well, it did. But, if you push all of that to the side, then it was obvious that someone had on some very, very nice cologne.
It was a smell that I could literally see myself bathing in.
Let me just say, this mouth-watering, highly intoxicating, stomach-dropping, orgasm-inducing scent was most certainly not here before, but oh boy was I happy that it was now.
My eyes scoured the area trying to pinpoint the person wearing the cologne that had my insides twisting in knots. This person was definitely trying to get laid tonight, and—in my own opinion—it was probably going to work. The key to any person's heart is through their stomach, and this man smelled damn edible.
"Well, if it isn't a strange sight to see a rogue so close to the border," a deep, masculine voice said from behind me. My thoughts of the scent were immediately pushed to the far corners of my mind as an 'oh my gosh. I'm just a little girl who's lost and doesn't know where to go' façade washed over my devious facial features. I turned abruptly putting my hand over my chest. My eyes grew, and my jaw dropped as it normally did when I was put into situations like this.
"Oh—I—uh—was just lost, and—uh—please don't kill me," I stammered purposely taking a step back away from the very large male in front of me. This man may not have been the person who smelled so divine, but that did not lessen the fact that the man in front of me was quite the looker. He was darn sure easy on the eyes.
In a strange way, he almost reminded me of Dallas. The thought of the boy who was so madly in love with me almost made me want to frown. I didn't, though. Some day I might go back and get Dallas when I find him less of a prick. For now, the cell will do him just fine.
The height as well as build of the man in front of me reminded me greatly of Dallas. Dallas wasn't a small guy,
either. He was an alpha's son, so what else is there to expect? He turned rogue after being denied the position of alpha for reasons that I was not aware of. I didn't really care enough to know.
Back to the matter at hand, Dallas was no average sized male, and neither was the the dude in front of me. With his chestnut-brown hair that was just a shade or two lighter than Dallas' (I'd say almost a dirty blonde) and a perfectly crafted jawline, the one thing really separating the two were the differences in eye color. Where as Dallas had steely, grey eyes, the man towering over my 5'4 self had dull yet inviting green ones.
Everything about this handsome devil just screamed 'I run this shit-show'.
"We aren't exactly on claimed territory, so I'd be in a bit of trouble by killing you," Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Handsome mused as he folded his very muscular arms over his very muscular chest.
O—oh, Lordy.
"You're not going to turn me in to your alpha or beta?" I pressed searching for one answer. A light chuckle erupted from him creating this weird feeling in my chest that I really wasn't a fan of.
He's cute, therefore my heart feels the need to make an appearance.
"Sweetheart," Blondie smirked making those weird little feelings in my chest cease. Did he really have to be that much like Dallas? "I am the beta." Bingo.
I shifted my gaze from him to the floor. I stared down at my feet thinking just how I should go about this.
"Well," I said innocently, peeking up at him through my lashes, "if there's any way I could ever repay you for this, just let me know."
One drink lead to another, which lead to a motel bedroom, which then lead to me almost sleeping with the beta who's name I never even had the chance of getting.
"Oh my god," I moaned breathily as Blondie trailed his lips down my neck. His tall frame had me pressed against the far wall of the room just opposite of the door.
My thoughts were a bit muffled due to the fact that I truly haven't drunk as much as I just did in quite some time, but I was in this situation so often that everything I was doing was sort of just instinct. Everything that I was doing with this beta was not at all any different from what I had done a year or so ago.
Blondie's large hands gripped onto my sides as his mouth sucked away at a certain part of my neck. I'll be surprised if I don't have a hickey tomorrow. I leaned my head back letting out a moan as his mouth did its thing.
This was obviously not his first rodeo, either.
His hands inched their way under my shirt. They roamed over my stomach which I admit was much flatter than I would have liked it to be. Blondie didn't seem to mind it, though. He had my shirt over my head in a matter of seconds before his mouth was latched back onto my neck.
I wrapped my arms around his neck before jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist. His hands caught me just under my thighs. He squeezed them lightly making another moan slip it's way past my lips.
The feeling of the wall on my back soon left as another surface greeted me. This surface was much softer—a bed.
"You're killing me," I moaned, tugging on his shirt which irritatingly still stood between us. He got the hint. Before I really had time to even acknowledge the sculpted muscle bound to his well-defined body, his shirt was on the floor, and his lips found mine. The kiss was in no way gentle. Lust burned at the tips of our tongues, each of them fighting for dominance over one another. Blondie's hands were just beginning to fiddle with the button of my jeans when the door was thrown open.
I would not be surprised if the impact of it hitting the wall left a giant indent.
Both of our attentions shot to the door with a now very broken doorknob. Though, that wasn't really what I was interested in.
Oh, no.
My mind was focused on a very real problem—that I was laying on a bed with a man I had only met maybe three hours ago while, simultaneously, staring into the dark eyes of the heavenly-smelling-cologne-dude from the bar in the doorway. Let me just say, his cologne's scent did not dwindle one bit.
Heavenly-smelling-cologne-dude had me weak at the knees just by staring at him. Bless the fact that I was laying on a bed, or I probably would have crumpled to the floor in a heap of lusty thoughts.
This man, this sweet-smelling, dark-blue-eyed, coal-black-hair-having, moan-inducing-person of a man had my heart rate speeding up to about ten times the average or safe speed. I was positive that I was two seconds away from having convulsions.
So, what did I do? I spazzed. I hadn't ever been put in this certain situation, so it just felt like the right thing to do to snap Blondie's neck. Looking back at it, I would never, but in the moment it just seemed right. It was poor planning on my part.
Karma instantly decided to make an appearance.
Heavenly-cologne-smelling-dude decided that it was probably best to snap my neck, too-talk about tragic.
Our plans were so similar, yet I couldn't help but feel that breaking my neck was probably the smarter idea in the whole situation. What I did was just a tad unnecessary. Knocking me unconscious was most likely the smartest decision made by anyone all day.
I was trying to seduce and then murder someone after all.
__________
Chapter feels a bit scattered BUT I CANT WRITE IT ANY BETTER SO SORRY
SOOOOO BLESSED TO ALREADY BE ON HOT LIST SO THX GUYS
Oh and Kaia is actually literally insane so 9/10 time you will read something she says and think wtf because thats what I'm going for LOL OKAY YEA
Stay awesome Gotham 9/27/16