Obsession: Loving An Alpha Male

Copyright © by S.K. Lessly. Publisher: Jessica Watkins Presents. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be printed online, in a newspaper, or magazine.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be assumed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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First and foremost, I’d like to thank God for allowing me to express myself the way that I do. I know I wouldn’t be able to do what I love if it wasn’t for his Grace.

I want to thank Jessica Watkins for seeing the potential in me and giving me this opportunity to express myself and share my crazy imagination through my writing. To my JWP family, I will be forever grateful.

To my family the Russells, Taylors, Bowras, Cottons, Tiptons: I love you all.

To my fans: Wow, I have fans… I think you guys are awesome. You are the reason why I stay encouraged. It’s the little things you say to me that keep me going. I hope I can continue to entertain you in my own special way.

Special love sent to my sorors and Frat… Love you guys.

I will continue to dedicate my writing to my family. You all allow me to do what I love, and I’m blessed to have you in my life. I’m blessed to have a strong foundation and people around me that support me and love me enough to tell me when my writing sucks or when it’s good.

Dad, you will always be an inspiration.

Jessica N. Watkins Presents

Obsession

Loving an Alpha Male

S.K. LESSLY

I’ve been taken.

Unfortunately, I won’t be a part of the percentages that get found.

I’m one of those doomed to dwell in darkness forever.

You won’t see my picture on an eleven o’clock press conference asking the public if they’ve seen me. You won’t be able to open a newspaper to my face or see me on a billboard with a number underneath my name saying, “If you know the whereabouts of this woman please call.”

They won’t have a story on the
First 48
, or
Law and Order
or even
Sixty Minutes
. Hell, you won’t ever know that I’m missing because to the world I don’t exist.

I’m in darkness.

Have you ever thought of the irony in the word ‘darkness’?

Bear with me for a moment, will you?

Close your eyes and tell me what you see. Darkness, right? It’s a part of us whether we like it or not. Our eyes are capable of functioning in the dark. It’s something that our bodies are meant to do. Think about the time of day where most of us get to rest our bodies; it’s at night. Some of us even sleep at night with something covering our eyes to shelter them from any form of light that may insult our eyes in the morning. Most people wait until dark to live and party, and people seem to do their worst in the midst of darkness. It soothes some, and it’s the time in which we rejuvenate our bodies and minds, but when people mention bad things, do you notice it always makes you feel dark, dismal and sometimes even scared?

Anytime you watch a horror film, don’t you notice how dark it is? When you’re a kid, people scare you in the dark because you’re most vulnerable. The boogieman comes out only in the dark. ”Come out of the darkness into the light”; even the Bible depicts dark as evil.

But sometimes living in the light is far worse than living in darkness.

Some have tried to bring goodness to the meaning of darkness with sayings like, “Once you go black, you never go back.” But black represents darkness too, does it not? Black cats equal bad luck, Black Tuesday represents the start of the Great Depression, black eye, blackmail, the black hole.

As far as someone’s financials for a business though, if a business is in the black, it’s a good thing, but when someone dies, you’re programmed to wear black to the funeral. Darkness can be cynical, don’t you think?

God, I’m so cold
.

The Light of Darkness…

For most, darkness means depression and sadness, but for me, lying on this cold ground, it means peace. I long for the darkness to take over, but it won’t.

Damn fucking darkness. It knows I’m waiting. It knows what I want, but it won’t give it to me. It all but threatens to consume me.

Darkness is such a tease.

I’m lying on a very cold surface, and I can’t begin to tell you for how long. My face is on fire, throbbing slowly with each painful beat of my heart. My jaw is on fire. I think I have broken ribs, maybe even internal bleeding. It hurts when I move, so I don’t even try because I’m tired of screaming from the pain and blacking out.

Are you seeing where I’m going with this?

Before I was taken, the idea of bringing light and hope in my life charged me, and I thought for once that I was going to make it, but fate has a horrible sense of humor, does it not? I mean, one minute I was staring hope in the eyes, then the next I was pounded into unconsciousness.

I was scared at first; not knowing where I was, waking to darkness. My senses are shot to hell, so there’s no point in trying to use them. I have one eye open, but I can barely see out of it, and the other one is swollen shut for my troubles. I could be buried for all I know because there is absolutely no light coming into this space. My sense of touch is being overwhelmed with hopelessness; all I can taste is dread, and all I can hear is my very ragged, sometimes labored, breathing. I can’t even breathe through my nose, but I will say this; I think I can smell death close by.

I’m never getting out of here.

Darkness…

I was introduced to darkness early in my life, and I’ve held on to it ever since. I had no choice in the matter with the spawn of Lucifer as my father. That’s all I had, and that’s all I knew. Misery loves company they say, and that son of a bitch always made sure I was in his company and miserable. My father never raised his hand to physically abuse me, but he didn’t care about using whatever words or actions he could to hurt me. Of course, he wasn’t like that with my other siblings. I was the special one with the light–colored eyes and the lighter complexion. I was the one he hated and despised.

He sowed the seed of despair and despondency into my life to the point that I never thought I was worthy of anything more. I would try and rescue myself from his misery, but some way, somehow, he would find a way to suck all the happiness from me, draining me until there was next to nothing left.

Bleakness has become the only thing I hold on to, and now I’m just waiting, wondering how long it will take for my brain to catch up with my body and let go.

Before you call me a coward for giving up, please know that I’ve done everything I could to get out of here. I’ve fought back, I’ve yelled, screamed, cried, and prayed; nothing worked. . I’m going to die here alone, cold and with every regret I’ve ever had choking me to death.

I so desperately want to hold on to hope—to anything for that matter—and think positive, but finally I have given up the ghost. I want to have faith, but faith has abandoned me a long time ago. I want to dream, wish and believe that I’ll be found, but… hell, what’s the use really?

I give up, Fate! You’ve won! I don’t want to fight the inevitable anymore!

There were some bright moments in my life that I would like to tell you about. I graduated high school when I was sixteen. I got accepted into Princeton, being among the elite of young people that achieved that fete. I had a friend that suffered in darkness with me, so it made it a little easier sometimes. And I had a liberator that paved my way out of the darkness for me. The moment I escaped, I learned what it felt like to live in light. And even though darkness was always at my heel, I found a way not to let it swallow me whole.

But there was one person that showed me what it could be like if I could beat darkness. He brought promise and beauty into my life. He also brought something into my life that I never thought I would ever feel … Love.

The day I met him is still fresh in my mind. I didn’t have a clue I was slowly being pulled away from who I used to be and enveloped and protected from what was chasing me. Even though I took on a name and identity that was not my own, he showed me how to freely be myself, how to be Kenya Frost. But before I concede to darkness, let me show you what it was like for me in the light; the moment when I first let go of Kenya Frost and became Summer Dean.

“Noooooo!”

I sat up in my bed as his cologne suffocated me. I reached underneath my pillow for the knife I kept there ready for his attack. I regarded the room, my eyes trying to get accustomed to the darkness, searching for him, listening for him, for anybody. I ran my hand through my damp hair and tried to calm my breathing, but I was in full panic mode.

Shit
.

I flung my legs over the side of my bed and stood, shakily. I had to make sure he wasn’t here. I knew logically he couldn’t be, but it was that small voice that made me believe he was. I couldn’t calm down in order to move. I was paralyzed. My heart was banging outside of my chest, my lungs screamed desperately to draw breath, and my stupid mind wouldn’t allow me to breathe.

Finally, I started moving and turning on all the lights in my apartment, leaving none of the rooms in darkness. At the same time, I kept praying, asking God for strength and for protection.

With every light on, I started to calm down.

See, Summer, no one is here.

I rechecked every window, and none were disturbed. But when my breathing returned to normal, I didn’t cut the lights. I walked to my living room and sat on the couch. I was wired, antsy, and now wide awake at three a.m.

So I turned on the television, put
Pretty Woman
in my DVD player and watched Julia Roberts get swept off her feet by her john.

What a realistic love story, right? I mean, does true love like that really exist?

The moment I saw the sky lighten, I threw on a pair of leggings, a tank, my sneakers, and headed for the track. Running is the only thing that calms me. I would actually have liked to go out running the moment I awoke from my dreams, but I was so paranoid and on edge, that I couldn’t imagine leaving my place while it was dark out. It’s crazy, however, how the moment the sky lightens, I don’t feel as paranoid.

There’s a stadium a few blocks north of my apartments with a pretty decent track. For the most part, the track was empty in the early morning, and I was able to run until I passed out, collapsed or threw up. I put a pair of buds in my ear, turned on my mp3 player and blasted my rock music. For the record, I had no idea what they’re singing about, I just liked the beats.

I sometimes used running to fight back the demons of my past. I felt like I was running from a lot: the hateful words my father constantly used, the times my mother kept her blinders on and never intervened, and from the unforgivable things my older sisters, Rasheda and Latisha, said and did, that made life a living hell. I used my pains and my struggles to churn my legs to get me moving faster in order to punish my body.

I had made it around the track three times, and I could feel the burn in my chest. That’s what I wanted to feel; the constant burn, which was a reminder of the pain they each inflicted. I turned the corner, my fourth time around, and noticed a man with a great set of arms come onto the track. I’m sure he had a great set of everything, but his arms were all I could see. He was tall, had to be well over six feet and those legs… Oh my.

Suddenly, I felt my knee move funny. Then to my horror, my legs went limp. My eyes bulged out of my face; I watched helplessly, as the track came up to meet me. I felt like everything was in slow motion. It took forever for me to hit the track it seemed, but when I did, I hit it hard, rolled and landed flat on my back. My wrists, shoulder, head and ankle were killing me.

Oh shit! It hurts!
I couldn’t believe I had done that.
Okay Summer, just lay here.
I looked up at a now fully lightened sky.
Maybe no one saw–

“Excuse me, are you all right?”

Oh no!

I closed my eyes tight, hoping and trying desperately to disappear.

“I wish I could just click my heels three times and be back at my place,” I thought I muttered to myself.

I didn’t hear anything else, so maybe it worked, or maybe I was imagining the voice I heard.

Yes that’s it, I’m all alone. No one saw me fall.

Just as I felt relief
,
I heard a chuckle behind my eyes, and then a voice say, “Clicking your heels three times only worked on the Wizard of Oz.”

Damn it!

I slowly opened my eyes and found a clear, beautiful set of blue eyes looking down at me. There was no humor or pity in them; just concern coupled with complete and utter hotness.

This is just great
.

“Are you all right?” he asked, again.

Say something, Summer.

“Um… Yes, I’m–” I tried to sit up on my hands, but pain bolted to my right wrist. “Ouch!”

The man crouched down before me and frowned. “Here, let me see.”

I moved my hand from him, pulling it close to my body. I looked up in his face, and my breath caught. Damn, he was good-looking. I mean, more than good-looking. He was by far the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on. He was rugged and handsome in a brooding kind of way.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Just let me see.”

He knelt on one knee next to me, trying to appear less threatening. Little did he know, it wasn’t working. I mean, I didn’t think he would hurt me. It’s just there was something about him that was making my heart beat out of control.

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat and asked, “Are you a doctor?”

I inwardly chastised myself for sounding so weak and scared, but he didn’t seem to notice; he only shook his head and reached for my arm.

The moment his fingers touched my skin, I felt a sensation that moved through me as quick as lightening. I gasped lightly in surprise as a result of the instant electricity and wondered if he could he have felt it too.

He smiled at me. “No, I’m not a doctor, but I’ve seen and had my fair share of broken bones. Let me see if anything is broken.”

God, this man’s voice.

He didn’t wait for me to give him permission. He moved my arm from my body, keeping his eyes steady on mine.

I wanted to protest, really I did. But all I could do was lean into him a little and inhale the glorious scent of him.

Is he supposed to smell this good so early in the morning?

Hell, he smelled incredible. And man, he was really starting to garble my thoughts!

“Am I hurting you?”

I blinked again. “What?”

“Am I hurting you?” he repeated.

Then I shook my head. “Oh, no.”

As he touched me gently, I tried to keep my breathing under control. This man should be in People’s magazine as the sexiest man alive. He rocked a five o’clock shadow that made his face more ruggedly handsome than I could have ever dreamed up a man to be. His hair was short, close to his head and laid on top of his scalp in tamed waves. He had a square jaw that was chiseled and masculine. And when he frowned, which is what he was doing right this moment, it made me squeeze my thighs together.

Good thing he was focused on my wrists and hopefully missed how tight my thighs were.

“Ah!” I jerked, and he looked up at me.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Is it broken?” I asked him.

“No, just a little bruised. I would recommend putting an ace bandage around your wrists for a little while and putting ice on it if it swells, but other than that, you have a clean bill of health.”

He moved to touch my forehead and then my shoulder, and yes, I let him.

God, I would let this man do anything he wanted to me right about now
.

“Is there anything else that hurts?” he asked.

If I say yes, would you kiss it and make it better?
I said to myself.

The smirk that played on his face that moment had me wondering if I actually spoke out loud.
Oh shit.

“Um… No, I think I’m okay,” I answered.

I stared at him a little too long. I couldn’t help myself. I’d never been affected this way by any man.

I shook my head slowly. “Thank you for looking at it.”

“No problem. Here, let me help you up.” He gripped me firmly by my forearm and pulled me up. I was about to move, but he stopped me. “Whoa! Hold on. Let me...” Then he pointed to my sneakers, bent down, and I watched in amazement as he tied my shoes. Call me weird, but that was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, and to be quite honest, no one had done anything so sweet for me in a very long time.

Good God Almighty
.

When he finally stood to his full height, I found myself standing inches from him. I looked up into his eyes and swayed slightly. I couldn’t tell you if the sudden dizziness was caused by me being this close to him, or if I really hit my head hard.

Can he feel my heart beating out of control?

I instantly blushed and backed away from him.

I looked down at my sneaker. “Um, thanks for helping me up, and well, tying my sneakers. I’m such a klutz.”

He smiled at me. “Really? I thought maybe you were just trying to get my attention.”

Ho–lee crap, are those dimples?

“Huh?” I looked at him, feeling my knees starting to grow weak, then I stepped back further. “Oh God no. I–”

Well, it seems I’m a glutton for self–punishment because I felt myself falling backwards, apparently going down for a second time. I flared my arms, and suddenly felt a strong arm rope around my waist and pull me forward into a body that felt just as I imagined it would; unbelievable.

Yeah, now I’m completely embarrassed. My face was on fire, and I buried it in my hands. I want to point out, if you haven’t noticed, that I’m still in his arms.

I heard him chuckle. “Wow, I’m flattered. I have that much of an effect on you?”

“More than you know,” I mumbled, then froze.

Now, did I just say THAT out loud?
I lifted my face from my hands and saw the sexiest half grin appear on his face.
I’m gonna die.

I tried to smile through my embarrassment.

“Well, it seems I’ve done enough running for the morning, as well as embarrassed myself to the fullest. Um…” I finally backed away, watching this time where I was stepping as I went. “…Thanks again for looking at my wrists, and for, you know… saving me.”

His grin turned to a full on smile. “No problem. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Oh no, that’s okay, really. I’m fine. Thank you for offering though. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he replied, simply. I turned and tried not to show just how bad my knee was killing me.

I didn’t care how stupid I looked trying not to limp, yet failing miserably, at the same time. I needed to get out of there before I found another way to humiliate myself.

An hour and a half later, I was behind the counter of Sara’s Café, where I worked. Sara’s Café was a few blocks south of my apartment on East Carson Street.

Sara’s had been in this neighborhood for a very long time. Her two youngest sons out of six, Stephen and Nicky, and three daughters–in–law, wives of her oldest sons, helped her run the place. It’s a quaint little place with a huge display case where the pastries are kept. There were small tables located on both sides of the café. The middle, of course, was open for patrons. The walls were nicely decorated with family pictures of Sara and her family.

The neighborhood loved her and her family. Sara’s was all about fresh baking, priding themselves on baking from scratch, providing customers with the best homemade pastries in the city. We sold other items besides pastries, but Sara’s was mainly known for its breakfast menus. We sold fresh donuts, coffee cakes, fresh muffins, and croissants. We made breakfast sandwiches on freshly made English Muffins and biscuits. It’s one of the places I loved about this city.

I’d been in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for about two years now. It took a lot of getting used to, being on my own, but I found two and a half jobs that kept me hidden like I wanted and paid me enough that I could afford my bills. Out of all the cities I traveled to, this one was my favorite place to live. I loved this city’s culture and history. I loved the diverse people. The people that I have met have welcomed me without question or hesitation.

I found a small, one–bedroom apartment on the south side of the city just blocks from East Carson Street. Carson Street was filled with all kinds of businesses; from small shops, store front cafés like Sara’s, and tattoo shops, to clubs and bars. It was a great place to be able to enjoy some of what this city had to offer without leaving your neighborhood.

Despite the nightmares, for the first time in my life, I was happy. I didn’t have a lot of money. I shopped in the thrift stores all the time, and I had no car, but I felt fulfilled. I hadn’t stopped smiling since I left New Brunswick, and to be honest, I had no regrets. Sometimes I think maybe something is wrong with me, that I should feel something, guilt for leaving my family maybe, but my family could care less about me.

I did send a postcard to my mom from Alabama, where I stayed for every bit of two weeks, but who knows if it ever got to her. That was five years ago, and I haven’t sent another since. Once I was freed, I was determined to never look back at who I used to be. Kenya Frost no longer existed, and I didn’t want her to be found.