She Alpha

Twenty Three

A little warning about this chapter: The writing in italics is graphic and could be triggering for some readers. So feel free to skip to the normal print.

Picture// 10 year old Jude
Song// Ivy- Frank Ocean

I looked up from my black shoes at a loud crash coming from my father's study.

Furrowing my brows tightly, I glance towards my little brother who had tears streaming from his eyes.

We had just returned from my mothers funeral, which had left me feeling numb.

"I'll be right back, Jude." I place my hand on his.

His eyes look up at me in sadness, as he nods.

Climbing the stairs to my father's office, the crashes become even louder.

I knew he wasn't taking my mother's death well- none of us were. I don't know how you could really deal with a death well.

My shaking figure stands in front of his oak door of his office, that would one day belong to me.

Gulping, I slowly turn the knob as the crashes stop and sobs take their place.

My father sits on his knees in front of the fireplace. His tired form slumps, his hair sticking out in all different directions.

The office was completely torn apart. His desk was flipped upside down, papers and books laid on the floor in every direction.

His suit jacket was strewn off to the side.

"Daddy?" I question quietly, not wanting to disturb him after the death of my mother yesterday.

He sobs once more, making me step into the office. I have only seen my father cry three times- in pictures when I was born, when Jude was born and then right now.

It was a frightening sight to see the strongest person you know of crying. That was a true sign of defeat and loss.

"Dad?" I ask again, stronger this time.

His red-rimmed eyes meet mine over his shoulder. They were identical to my own eyes, green like the forrest trees.

"Riley, go downstairs." His voice trembles.

My own eyes water, as my chest collapses on itself. In his left hand, he held a weapon that would take his life.

A shiny, silver gun- no doubt loaded with silver bullets.

"Dad, please stop." I cry out, feeling so helpless and weak.

A tear streams down his face, as he turns away from me and looks towards the painting above the fireplace.

My mother stood next to my father as he sat in a leather chair. Her hair was culled perfectly, a gorgeous white dress- that I always loved- adorning her body.

It was painted on their wedding day.

His shoulders tremble, "Riley, go away!"

I shake my head in defiance. I had already lost one parent, I was not about to loose another.

"No! Dad think about me and Jude!" I scream back, becoming angry that I couldn't stop him.

He sniffles. "I can't live without her."

I didn't really understand the concept of mates- but I did know that they loved each other very much.

Seeing my father like this made me promise myself I would never have one.