Return Of The Exiled

7- Blood

Benita

The following morning, the same woman who brought me over to show me where I would stay the night, picked me up again thirty minutes back. She picks up another person along the way who introduces himself as Sampson, as he gets in the backseat of Maddie's van.

There were three others around my age, who were talking about a run they had last night, so I excused myself and went to my room and showered, being careful to rack up Aunt Clara's dress that I borrowed. I will hand rinse it when I get the chance, I thought but here I am wearing it again today.

Since I had no clothing because I expected to not need any, I slept in a robe I found in the bathroom.

They were all weird and I found myself questioning my decision to come here last night and even now.

Mafia. Sheila had been joking, right? The mafia was non-existent now, right? Hadn't they died out in the late nineties or something? Why would the mafia own a strip club? Didn't they deal with drugs and such?

Hah, as if.

But since I am to tend bar, I could pay attention and soak up as much as I could so I can use this as an experience for my next job. I am grateful for that- wait. Why am I thinking of working still when my payment will free me from that?

My stomach is still in knots about that. I mean, I put on a brave facial expression, but I am terrified. How will I learn to do what is expected of me from mimicking someone? I sort of figured the guy would have done what needed to be done- don't they all do that?

I mean yeah, I get that in the actual act, women do take the lead but that was for experienced women. Who already knew the ways of er- men. Why put me through the embarrassment of learning it from others?

"One million dollars," I whisper to myself. Yup, totally worth the embarrassment. Bills cleared. Double yup in that department.

Taking out my phone, I powered it on and texted the group chat, labeled; Friends for Life. 'Might be here longer than expected.' I am replying to a message sent by Cameron this morning. 'Hope all is well.'

Then I switched it back off after a minute when no notifications came on. To save my battery. I had not taken my charger when I left home to go to Cameron's house yesterday.

Samson, another tall and muscled man, in his forties possibly, with white long twisted hair and in a red checkered-styled long-sleeved shirt, black-jeans shorts, and vans, is showing me 'around'.

My 'guide' already covered the 'lands' and the 'border' to where I 'should understand' that I cannot be 'saved' if I cross over it. "The river borders our territory here to the woods on that-" he was saying when he abruptly stopped in front of me and seemed to space out for nearly ten seconds. Then turns to me and mutters, "Come now with me to the 'packhouse'."

Fuck- this is mafia-like.

We are in what I assume is a reservation of some sort, with the usual open lands and beautiful botanical-looking trees. I was being shown the housing area by Samson, and an older woman named Maddie, with ocean blue eyes, with long black hair in a tight-looking French braid. Very fit and seemed to love sportswear.

Unless she was just returning from the gym. Couldn't be heading to because she was sweaty smelling.

Maddie is running up to us from the truck, she had remained seated in it while Samson showed me around. She wears the same expression as he did. "Alpha -"

"Yeah, I got it," Samson rushed out, as he jumped into the truck and Maddie pushed me hurriedly into the back because I was still in heels. No shoes but the ones I came with- Aunt Clara's again. Then she got into the front driver's seat herself and sped off towards the largest building at the reservation.