Page 2 of Marrying My Orc Boss

“Oh, great, have fun. It's always good to hook up with friends and have some downtime,” I reply.

“No, I mean by myself,” he replies, raising an eyebrow as if that is meant to sound appealing.

“Really? You go bowling by yourself?” I ask.

“I sure do. Since the divorce, you know, most of my friends sided with the ex. Or, as I call her, Miss Vader.” He snorts a laugh and wields a pretend lightsaber.

“Well, you did cheat on her with your cleaner?” I’m too tired to be polite.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it cheating,” he replies.

“What would you call it?” I ask.

“You see, I’m an alpha. A cross I have to bear. I’m a wolf, the head honcho of the pack, and it’s my duty to share the good stuff. If you get my drift.” The words slip out of him like slime.

“Your drift, Mr. Killen–” I begin.

“Call me Derek.” A sly smile broadens as his beady eyes grow soft with something I don’t want to name.

“Your drift, Mr. Killen, is the last thing I want to catch. Enjoy your evening of throwing heavy balls down an empty lane.”

“Your loss. Plenty of young heifers down there to take your place,” he says as I walk down the corridor toward the exit. “Can’t get enough of all night Derek. I’m like a 7-11. Any time you fancy a little snack, I’ll be open for business.”

I can think of nothing worse as I exit the school into the car park, gladly leaving the scent of his cheap aftershave behind me.

Just get yourself in your car and go home. That’s all I ask as I near my little beat-up car, which I call Matilda. I love her. We have been through thick and thin together, but there is always the fear that one day, she’ll give up and not start anymore.

Matilda is tired, just like me. I open the back seat door, throw my bag in, and slip into the front. I pull the door shut, and it creaks as I do.

Then my phone starts to buzz. I reach into the back seat, trying to find the damn thing. When I do, I look at the name on the screen. It says Mom, so I swipe and pop it on speaker, looking forward to hearing her cheery voice.

“Sally, it’s your father.” Her voice is low and sad, oceans away from her normal self. This sounds bad.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You better come. It’s not good.”

“Mom…?” My voice comes out a little shaky, but I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t know if I want to know what is happening.

“He’s alive, don’t worry, sweetheart. But just come, Sally, as quickly as you can. I’ll explain when you get here.” I hear her start to cry as she gives me the name of the hospital and hangs up the phone.

And just like that, my whole world is turned upside down.

I gather myself together. I tell myself it won’t be as bad as I think. Mom is just in shock at whatever has happened, but he’s alive. So that’s good. Right, Sally? You got this girl.

I put the key into the ignition. “Okay, Matilda, don’t let me down. Now would not be the time.”

Then I turn the key, and Matilda sputters into life.

“Thank you, my girl, thank you,” I say as I guide my trusted friend out of the school lot onto the road toward the hospital.

People, I find, are primarily dicks, never more so than when they are behind the wheel of a car. I am in a hurry. I understand that they don’t know I am in a hurry, but sometimes, the best humans can do for others is give them the benefit of the doubt.

Yet today that doesn’t appear to be on the menu as I push Matilda to her max, weaving in and out of traffic to the sound of my fellow drivers' self-righteous horns, all refusing to get out of the way by purposely driving as slow as they can.

“Assholes!” I scream, but no one will ever hear.

When I arrive, of course, the hospital parking lot is stuffed to breaking point as I circle around and around, looking for a space. Then I spot a reversing car and claim it as my own with the flick of an indicator.

---