Page 12 of The Alpha Under My Bed

I exhaled.

The cold night pressed in, thick with the coppery tang of blood and the damp rot of asphalt. Somewhere beyond the alley, the city carried on, its distant hum a muffled backdrop to the slow, rhythmic drip, drip, drip of blood seeping between the cracks in the pavement.

Now for the fun part.

I crouched, yanking at his jacket until his wallet slipped free. A couple of crumpled bills, a half-punched loyalty card for some overpriced café, and a license with his dumb fucking face smiling up at me.

Gone too soon. Tragic.

I let the wallet drop beside him, flipping it open just enough that whoever found him wouldassumeexactly what I wanted them to: a mugging gone wrong. A desperate thief, a knife fight, a scuffle that endedbadly.

I tugged the chain from his neck, tucking it into my pocket.

It wasn’t for me.

It was for Ellie.

She’d never recognize it. Never question it. Just another gift, another trinket I’d leave on her counter—something new to catch the light when she walked by, something to keep her surrounded by me.

She’d never know how close he had come.

How closeany of themhad come.

They were nothing. Just obstacles. Noise. A threat that I had removed before it could ever reach her.

And now?

Now, she was safe.

Where she belonged.

With me.

ELEANOR

The news droned on in the background as I stood at the counter, rinsing out my coffee mug. The low hum of the anchor’s voice barely registered—just another murmured report about another violent crime in Oakhaven.

Another mugging gone wrong. Another body found in the alley behind that shitty dive bar off Fifth.

I frowned, staring down into the sink, watching the last bit of foam swirl down the drain. It was awful, obviously, but it wasn’t like it wasshocking. Oakhaven wasn’t dangerous—not really—but it had its shadows like anywhere else. You just had to be smart. Careful.

I reached for a dish towel, drying off my hands as the anchor continued, saying something about an ongoing investigation, a call for witnesses. The victim’s name flashed across the screen in bold white letters, but I barely glanced up.

I didn’t recognize it.

Didn’t recognize him.

Just another face.

Just another headline.

Just another reason to make sure I kept my keys between my fingers when I walked home alone at night.

I exhaled, shaking off the slight weight pressing against my chest. There was no point in dwelling on it. This was the world we lived in—one where bad things happened, one where people you didn’t know could be gone in an instant.

I shut off the TV, the silence settling over my apartment like a heavy quilt. The sudden quiet made the space feel smaller, the emptiness of it creeping in at the edges, making me all too aware that I had no one to fill it.

No one but?—

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