Page 21 of Alpha's Forbidden Bond

He left, and I leaned on the counter, looking out at the rest of the oversized store. The fluorescent lights gave me a bit of a headache, and I was desperate to get the mattresses and leave. There were too many people around, kids screaming, and store-related announcements blaring from the speaker right above my head. I was so glad the compound was more or less self-sufficient and that I only had to make the trip out here a couple of times a year. The sooner I could get back to the peace and quiet of my house, the better.

“What do you mean you can’t sell me this today? Why not?”

The voice at first blended with the other noises, so it took me a second to register that I recognized it.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Ma’am, we have rules about selling these sorts of things.”

“It’s not a gun!”

I looked to my right and saw a woman with long brown hair standing at one of the registers, holding something packaged in a lot of plastic. It was Diana, and while I couldn’t see her face, I could tell from her tone that she wasn’t happy.

What the hell is she doing here?

If I hadn’t already been in such a bad mood, I might’ve been able to laugh at the odds. I never came to this big box store, not only because I hated shopping here but also because it was out of the way. How crazy was it, then, that we would end up here at the same time? If only the stupid forklift driver had been working yesterday, Diana and I never would’ve overlapped. Wanting to avoid another scene, I turned around and kept my head down, praying her transaction would end soon, and then she’d be gone.

“I’m sorry,” said the cashier. “But I am supposed to use my discretion when it comes to selling any weapon. If someone comes to check out and they seem to be having any intense emotional feelings or be in distress, I’m not supposed to sell them guns, pepper spray, knives, or bullets. That’s store policy.”

“This is nothing like a gun!” Diana said. “And, of course, I’m distressed! I have reason to believe that I’m being followed, and there was a prowler outside my house last night. That’s why I’m here, trying to buy this fucking pepper spray!”

“I understand, but?—”

“No you clearly don’t!” She laughed at the man. “You don’t have any idea what I’m feeling right now. What are you? Over six feet tall?”

I snuck a glance over my shoulder to confirm that the man was, in fact, at least that tall.

“Two hundred pounds maybe,” she went on. “Even more. I can tell from your arms that you work out as well.”

The guy smiled, probably thinking she was hitting on him. I shook my head. You poor fool.

“You look like a real meathead,” she went on. “And I’m sure you’re very proud of that, but it’s also why I absolutely refuse to accept that you understand what I’m going through. Look at me! Please tell me how I’m supposed to defend myself if someone like you decides to follow me home after work one night. Huh? How?”

“I—”

“I’m not a fast runner either,” she said with a harsh laugh. “I tried doing track when I was in high school but quit after one year because I got last place in every competition. So I ask again, if I don’t have something to arm myself with, then how the hell am I supposed to keep myself safe?”

The man stuttered through a response that wasn’t audible, but from the way Diana groaned afterward, I had a feeling he had denied her once again. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she tossed the pepper spray down on the ground and stormed out of the store. The person who was supposed to go find the forklift driver wasn’t back yet, and while I still found Diana to be a very annoying, pushy person, I didn’t think she deserved to feel unsafe in her own town. I walked over and nonchalantly picked up the peppery spray.

“I’ll put this back,” I said to the cashier. “I’m headed that way.”

“Thank you,” he said, still visibly frazzled from the encounter. “I really am just following store policy. I can’t lose this job.”

“I get it,” I said, waving politely.

I walked around the store for a few minutes but didn’t put the pepper spray back. I waited until an appropriate amount of time had passed, then I headed back to the front but got in line at the register farthest away from the one Diana had gone to. I threw a candy bar and soda on the conveyor belt as well and stood calmly as the teenage girl rang me up and bagged everything. I paid in cash, and after checking once more at the customer help desk and finding it empty, I went outside.

Thankfully, Diana was still in the parking lot. Her little car was stationed in the middle of two empty spaces, and she hadn’t gotten around to changing out the spare tire for a new one. I approached slowly at first, unsure how she would react when she saw me. After a few paces, however, she turned her head, and we made eye contact. She got out of the car, frowning.

“I knew it!” she screamed. “You’re the one who’s been following me! Tell me what the hell you were doing at my house last night, or I swear to god, I am going to call the police right—fucking—now.”

I raised my hands and waved the plastic bag in the air like a white flag. “Woah, hold on,” I said. “Before you jump down my throat and hurl baseless accusations at me, you might want to see what I just purchased for you while I was inside.” I tossed her the bag, and she caught it. She stared inside with a confused expression.

“Why?” she asked. “What game are you playing at?”

“No games. I overheard you arguing with the clerk,” I said. “And it didn’t seem fair to me that he wouldn’t sell you the pepper spray just because you were distraught or whatever. Also, for the record, I wasn’t following you. Not last night or this morning. I’m here to pick up some new mattresses.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So then, where are they?”

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