46

When the police knocked at the door Scarlett, her mother and Adrian gathered on the upstairs landing. They heard Ron place his cup down and move to answer it.

"What's going on?" Scarlett asked her mother.

Mum shook her head in confusion. She clearly had no more clue than Scarlett.

"Let's go and find out," Scarlett said, following her mother down the staircase.

Ron pulled open the front door to reveal a couple of police officers. A tall man and a red-haired woman, both in uniform, pulled out their badges

“Can I help you?” Ron asked without saying hello or exchanging pleasantries.

"I’m Sergeant Hobbs and this is Inspector Greenwood," the woman said. “Is Adrian Turner home?”

Scarlett wondered if Sienna had reported him for hurting her. She had said she wouldn’t, but people could change their minds. Scarlett wouldn’t blame her. Not one little bit. Adrian deserved to be punished for his behaviour. Being Alpha did not give him free reign to do whatever he wished.

"Why? Why do you want to speak to my son?" Ron asked.

“We’ve received a report of physical abuse. Somebody reported witnessing an assault on a young woman. At this stage, we just need your son to come into the station to answer some questions,” the policewoman informed them.

‘So it wasn’t Sienna,’ Scarlett frowned.

“Go and get Adrian,” Ron said. His face was rippling with barely concealed anger, prompting Scarlett to nod and get to it.

She met Adrian at the top of the stairs with a look on his face that matched his fathers.

“It must have been that idiot, Tom,” he seethed. “I’ll kill that stupid prick.”

Adrian took a deep breath to compose himself before leaving with the police. The rest of the family watched from the living room window as the panda car drove into the distance.

“This is not good.” Mum shook her head. “He can’t be getting into trouble if he’s going to lead.”

“I know, I know.” Ron signed angrily. He picked up his cup and took it to the kitchen before doing what Scarlett had come to think of as ‘angry cleaning.’ Ron never did any form of cleaning unless his mood was sufficiently bad.

As Scarlett and her mother exchanged exasperated looks, she could almost hear the woman’s thoughts.

‘This is only going to get worse.’

###

Tom regaled his online friends with his version of recent events—a version that made him more of a hero and less of a coward. Not that he wasn't a hero of some description—or so everyone had told him.

He was explaining how he'd carried Sienna to the taxi when he heard the door slamming open. The loud slam was shortly followed by a series of shouts from his older brother—Terry. Terry was a big guy—football player and a martial artist. Tom trusted him to deal with any situation that might arise but still felt the need to check on him out of curiosity more than anything else. It didn't immediately click in his mind that it might be Adrian. Not until he reached the bottom of his staircase and saw Adrian looming over his brother's body.

'He knocked out Terry?' Tom thought with panic. He'd never known his big brother to lose a fight. Looking up at Adrian's face, his next thought was to run.

It was his house, and yet, it didn't feel safe to be there. On reflection, he would realise that bolting to the woods wasn't the best idea, but in the heat of the moment, instinct took over.

"You think you can barge into my house? My room? Uninvited?" Adrian raged. He didn't appear to be following but soon caught up as Tom raced through the back garden and over the fence into the allotment.

He was only halfway through his dad's rhubarb patch when he realised Adrian had overtaken him and circled round to face him. How anyone could move that fast was beyond his imagination. It didn't seem possible. Not for an ordinary human boy.

'He's a monster,' Tom realised, seeing the way Adrian's eyes reflected. They had the same glow as his cat's eyes when in hunting mode.

"I'm sorry." Tom raised his arms in surrender. "I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry. Please—"

When Adrian hit him, the fist felt more like a sledgehammer. He spat, tasting the metal in his mouth and wondered why he was still conscious.

He looked down at Adrian's fist and saw it wasn't balled up into a fist, but flat.

'That was a slap?!'

He tried to take a step back as Adrian raised his palm again but wasn't fast enough. The force of the blow sent him flying into the mud and greenery.

A sharp flash of pain in his ribs told him Adrian wasn't finished. His only option was to curl up in the foetal position and hope it was over soon.

When the kicks finally stopped, Adrian pulled him up by the collar. "Consider this a warning never to come near me again. It could have been a lot worse and it will be if you piss me off again. Got it?"

Unable to form a response, Tom nodded.

His back hit the ground with a thud as his angry attacker released his grip on the collar. Every part of his body hurt. Moving wasn't an option, so he let out a ragged sigh and stared up at the stars. The inky sky glistened with a thousand tiny lights, unhindered by cloud cover or pollution.

'Beautiful.'

He was still staring when a familiar face appeared in his line of sight.

"What are you doing here?" He frowned.

When the newcomer didn't answer he didn't take it too personally. "Help me up, would you?"

Tom held out a bruised arm, stretching his fingers toward the figure standing in the dark.

The figure remained silent and still.

Tom frowned, becoming both annoyed and creeped out.

"Okay, Freak," he muttered.

"Freak?" the figure spoke up at last. "I'll show you a Freak."

The flash of white teeth that was a smile curled up and twisted into something else. For a minute Tom figured he was having a nightmare. That he'd been knocked unconscious by Adrian and was now trapped in a hideous dream world.

But that didn't add up. First, there was the pain. Surely he couldn't feel this much pain in a dream. And it was too convenient. Tom's dreams were usually a lot more random—talking Raccoons and twisty armed robots with colanders for heads. This thing—though horrifying and weird—was just too realistic.

As the monster grew in size he knew it was time to run. He tried to twist and turn onto his belly and push himself up off the ground.

It was only when he felt a foot pinning him to the floor Tom realised his chance to escape had passed.

"P--please," he whimpered. "Please don't hurt me. Oh, God Pleas—"