The beginning... a couple of first Chapters.

Fighting 2

This is the first draft of what is to be the sequel for Fighting For Him. Considering i've only written 5 chapters of this It is possible that this will change when and if i actually put up the story. I'm putting this up just to show that i haven't forgotten about Scar and Liam. But due to my final year of Uni i have little time and effort to put into it and don't want it to be halfhearted, like one of my stories on here, i hope you guys will hold on and wait and not give up. One warning I want to give is drug use (the prescribed kind), just for the sensitive of you guys out there :) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can hardly move in my room for boxes and suitcases, filled to the brim and ready to go, and yet I haven’t packed a thing. As I look around what used to be my room I count them all up. Three large boxes and four suitcases; that is what my life comes down too, although whether that’s significant I wouldn’t know. The only spot of normality left in my room is my bed that still has my flowery sheets, green blanket and cuddly Rottweiler teddy. I have one more night in that bed. One more night and then in the morning a Range Rover will come to whisk me away to my new home. Padding into my bathroom I look longingly at my bathtub before squirting toothpaste onto my brush, now that I will miss; my bath has always been one of my favourite items and my favourite guilty pleasure.

As I brush my teeth I think about what still needs to be done before tomorrow…I come up blank. This move has been organised with military precision and I haven’t had to lift a finger, which is good since I can only really move five of the ten I have. Frustrated I flex the muscles in my left arm and instantly feel a sharp pain burn through the limb but I am used to it now. Call me a masochist but I find myself doing this, causing this pain, pretty often. It’s a reminder of everything that has happened and of what I still have to face.

Five weeks have passed by in a blur since I won the competition that will, in the not so distant future, cement my new role of Alpha Female of my pack. This has been the cause of frequent sleepless nights and numerous late night phone calls designed to reassure me that everything will be okay.

It is no secret to anybody that Liam is extremely happy with the way that things ended, for the most part anyway, in the sense that he got me; I literally won the guy I am going to spend the rest of my life with. Cocking my head to one side I sigh at my reflection ‘That sounds crazy.’ I state to myself. Leaning closer to the mirror I stare at my reflection, my eyes automatically flicker downwards to my left arm that is in a sling, a bar holding it together and forcing it to heal. An injury from way before the final round but one that refuses to go away. Then I look at the rest of me, the late nights are starting to show and whilst the whites of my eyes have a pink tinge my usually shiny brown irides are pretty dull, my chocolate brown hair is also missing it’s shine and my loose curls have lost their usual bounce, but, according to my therapist, these are just symptoms of my stress; stress and heartbreak.

This is where things get confusing; I refused to see the pack therapist. Not because I don’t like him, I’ve never been introduced to him, but because I didn’t want anyone, Liam, to know that I need a therapist. My parents aren’t happy about it but they prefer this over me getting no help at all. So I’m seeing a human one in secret. Obviously he doesn’t know everything but I’ve kept the story pretty similar. As far as he knows my best friend was murdered and I, in turn, killed her killer in self-defence; which is actually really close to the truth.

Anyway, stress and heartbreak. Each is easy to account for, the stress due to my new future and the expectations that have befallen me and the heartbreak is because of Nickie. Four weeks ago I buried the body of one of my best friends. Nickie and I had fought together in the final round and together had brought down our biggest threat, only for Nickie to lose her life in the process; at the age of eighteen it’s safe to say that it wasn’t meant to end that way. And I had watched her die; another cause of my sleepless nights being that when I close my eyes I can still see her drop like a stone to the floor after the fatal blow that killed her. Yet despite Nickie’s killer also being dead I still don’t feel that proper retribution has been  served for her death, that job would be down to my serving Alpha but would also be against my serving Alpha, as I hold him responsible for everything that has happened in the last few months. See how that would be tricky? It also makes things a little awkward that I really can’t stand the sight of him.