Rone

Chapter Five

Rone

Chapter Five

"Not a bad turnout," I said, peering at the people gathered over the rim of my sunglasses. I took a swig of coffee and smiled at Daniel who was looking at the five or six people hanging around on the lawn of the dilapidated Alpha house with a raised eyebrow. I had been expecting more but five was a start.

"Spencer is going to be upset," Daniel murmured. He was surprisingly composed despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before. We both stared as one of the men threw his candy bar wrapped on the lawn of the Alpha's house. The respect was astounding.

"It's early," I said with a one shouldered shrug.

"It's three o'clock," Daniel countered.

I was genuinely surprised by the time. "Late notice," I excused, shrugging with both shoulders now. I pushed my sunglasses back up the bridge of my nose and marched onto the porch of the house, watching for the rotted step.

"Thanks for coming everyone," I called out, "Alpha Rone will be making his address in just a few minutes." One person coughed, another rubbed his eye. The people were hyped and I was starting to think we needed crowd control.

"This is embarrassing," Daniel hissed in my ear, arms folded in front of his body. "There is no way you're going to get Spencer to talk to five people." Daniel faltered and fell silent as one guy walked away. Four.

"Why not?" I asked, "they're his pack members, aren't they? So he didn't get the full turnout? How many members are in this pack anyways? Twenty-five?"

"Fifty-three," Daniel answered bleakly, taking a seat on the porch steps and dropping his head into his hands. I whistled lowly and sat beside him. I couldn't lie—I had at least expected Garrett to come out with his group of loser friends to support.

I finished the rest of my coffee and resisted the urge to throw the cup into the overgrown grass on the Alpha House's front lawn. I had to set an example now, I had to behave. With a sigh I pulled on Daniel's wrist, checking the time on his watch. Rone was late.

"Where is he?" I mumbled, pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head and squinting. I stood and hopped up to the porch, pushing open the creaking screen door and walking into the Alpha house.

It had the bones of a great estate—lovely crown moulding, original hardwood floors, high ceilings that were vaulted and deep dormer windows. The living room hosted both a horrendous amount of dust and a ornate fireplace whilst the kitchen had beautiful copper finishes and rat droppings along the baseboards. With work and love, the house had potential.

I was hoping the same was true for this pack.

"Rone?" I called out. I caught his muffled response and followed it to the cramped powder room. The bathroom was painted a mint green which was a craze in the eighties and an eyesore now. The bathtub was full of rust and grime, the toilet bowl tinted a strange yellow colour, and the sink stained with toothpaste and mold.

I wrinkled my nose at the smell rising from the old pipes. "What the hell are you doing in here?" I asked, turning to look at Rone and feeling my throat close. He had dressed up. Gone were his black t-shirt and jeans and in their place was a button-down shirt and slacks—slacks. I covered my mouth as I giggled.

"What?" he snapped, looking at himself in the mirror and frowning. I realised then that he had been practicing his speech in here—making sure each word was pronounced correctly and every sentence's meaning was clear and concise.

My heart sank for him.

"Are you planning on delivering your speech to the toilet again or are you ready for an audience of living things?" I asked, my eyes drawing over his face. He had shaved too.