Survivor

2. More Work To Do

Photo of Jess 

Luckily Luke decided to leave me alone after that, and I had time to get caught up in a lot of the homework I missed after Luke got so drunk he didn't know when to stop and I couldn't go to school for a couple days. 

I shivered as I thought about it..... after ten minutes of punching and kicking he broke out the belt......

"Bobbi!" My heart skipped a beat as I heard Luke's angry voice from down stairs. I ran to meet him, expecting the very worst.

"Yes, sir?" My breath hitched in my throat. Did he find out the file was missing already?

"Tonight I am having friends over, and I need this entire house perfect. Understand?" I nodded my head, relieved that was all he wanted.

"Yes, sir" He turned around and walked away from me and I let out a deep breath. Looks like I have my work cut out for me. 

You'd think that all I had to do to get ready for Luke's friends was to clean up the house a bit, but no. Luke was very particular about what to do when his "friends" came over. The refrigerator had to be fully stocked with beer, there needed to be an entire counter top full of snacks, and a dinner just in case anyone got hungry at midnight. 

So that's what I did for the next 3 hours. Luckily, being the Alpha's "kid" meant ID wasn't an issue at the liquor store. The steak took a crazy amount of time, and I hoped it was cooked to perfection because if not, all the "friends" got to help with the punishment.

As soon as I finished the final plate, the doorbell ran and I rushed to get it. When I opened it I almost gagged at the man standing there. He smelled of stale beer, old food, and..... vomit? 

"Hey girlie. Did Old Luke finally decide to get us some fun?" He drunkenly reached for me, but I backed away and he missed.

"Richie! Leave the girl alone. She's only the help." Luke glared at me and I got the message to be as far away as possible. 

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I sighed and slammed my hand down on the alarm clock to stop the annoying beeping. Luke and his friends were up till one o'clock in the morning before they decided to take it somewhere else, and I was dreading going down there to look at the mess I would have to clean up.

I procrastinated for as long as possible before throwing my hair in a bun and walking down the stairs. 

Everything down stairs was a mess. All the furniture was ripped apart and there was food stains smeared down  some of the walls. 

I stood there for a minute processing all the work that needed to be done, and I felt like crying. It would take me all day to get this done. 

I slowly started to pick all the broken furniture off the floor and make a pile for some pack members to get rid of. I sighed and looked around me. 

I grabbed a trash bag and spent forever searching for all the trash. There was stuff everywhere, from under the couch, to on the fridge, even to the bathroom. Scrubbing the walls alone took two hours and my knuckles started to crack from all the chemicals. It was exhausting. 

Usually Sara would help me, but Jess gets her out of the house when things get really bad. She used to take me too, but one time Luke went upstairs to tell me to do something, and got mad when I wasn't there. Something tells me that night we all would have been better off if we just stayed. 

By the time I finished cleaning and the pack members dropped of the new furniture, it was pitch black outside. I barely made it up the stairs before collapsing in my bed, not even having the energy to change my clothes. 

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The next thing I know I'm being pulled out of bed by my ankles and land roughly on the floor. 

"Where is it? Where is it you bitch?" I coughed and tried to regain my breath.

"Where is what?" I manage to wheeze out one sentence but I'm greeted with a punch to my face that knocks my breath out again anyway. 

"Know exactly what I'm talking about. Where is it?" He kicks me in the side before wrenching my arm so hard I see white spots. 

When I don't answer, he starts pulling stuff out of my closet, ripping the sheets of my bed, even going so far as to pull up a couple of the baseboards. 

"Where the fuck did you hide it?" He punches me in the gut, but I still manage to answer.

"I- I don't know..... what you're looking for." He drops me on the ground, kicking me one more time. 

"Don't worry, I'll find it, but it won't be pretty for you." The sound of the slamming door echoes in my head.

Throwing clothes everywhere, he ripped my room apart, looking like a crazed maniac. Picture frames were shattered against the wall, drawers pulled out and left on the floor. He even looked under the bathroom sink. 

But never once did he look under the mattress.