Queen Takes King, Checkmate.

Chapter Nine.

Charlottes' POV.

I didnt know what time it was when I reached the apartment building that was my home, I did however know that it was dark and I had been running for hours on end.

James' house was an entire state away, sure I could've hitchhiked but I wasnt able to think straight at the time and let my instincts take over.

Luckily, eventhough I couldnt turn into a wolf, I still had inhuman speed, even in my human form and I was able to run non stop for miles like that of a Lycan.

My legs were burning, feeling like they would fall out from underneath me any second now that I had stopped running, my lungs were failing me and too overworked that I wasnt able to take in an entire lungfull of air.

I'm sure I looked a mess too, wearing clothes that clearly weren't mine and shivering with possible signs of frostbite and hyperthermia as snow continued to flutter down lightly in the streets.

I padded into the emergency exit that led to the stairwell, located right by the charred remains of a car.

It was the only entrance and exit of the building since the buildings lobby was home to a group homeless drug fucked teens.

The stairwell was dimly lit, a few of the fluorescent lights flickering as my feet struggled to carry me up the several flights of stairs, the concrete steps were cold but alot warmer than the frozen pathways of this neighbourhood.

I dare not touch the banister as I climbed the stairs, the metal was covered in frost and would surely burn more than what my hands already did.

I reached the door that led to the seventh floor, the door was already ajar as usual and as I entered the hall, the familiar scent of moldy carpets and rotting wallpaper seemed welcoming after the past few days.

I slowed in the hall that was lit with only one light, stopping to press my ear against the bottle-green door of the apartment that unfortunately was still occupied by my mother; I could hear her babbling on aimlessly about something before I even opened the door.

Turning the handle as queitly as I could, not sure if my father was still around, the overwhelming stench of opium burned my nostrils and proved that yes, my father still hadn't killed my mother and that he wasnt here.

I kicked the door shut behind me as I walked inside, the familiar stained carpeted hallway and peeling white walls was what I unfortunately called home.

"You fucking bitch" my mothers voice grumbled from behind me as I passed what was the living room.

I didnt stop because I knew that she was high on something and from past experiences, I knew not to get involved in her drug fantasies.

"And where the fuck do you think you are going?" She slurred, grabbing me by the shoulder and forcing me to turn around.

She looked terrible as always, her black hair laced with greys and tied up messily into a bun while her once white tank-top was stained with alcohol and dried blood from when my father had beaten her.

There was even blood on her jeans as she stood infront of me barefoot with a massive bruise across her cheekbone and swelling in her right eye... just like I had when he beat me...

I snarled and shoved her backwards, knowing that if I wasnt stern with her, she'd continue trying to abuse me.

"Get the fuck off me" I roared, watching her lose her footing because she was both high on crack and alcohol.

She stumbled backwards and landed on her side in the hall, propping herself up weakly on on arm as she looked up at me with fear.

"He was here you know, your father, said he wanted me to run away with him so I would be happy. Until the men in white put him into their truck because some boy managed to knock him around..." she laughed darkly but I knew it was just another one of her fantasies.

Thats how she saw it whenever my father was around, blinded by her bond with him, she saw his abuse as affection and when he tried to kill her, she saw it as him being happy.

She was fucked in the head.

"Then do it, run away with him" I said in an overly sweet voice as if talking to a child, sickened to the core when she began to laugh and just layed down in the hall.

I turned around before she could compose herself enough to talk and headed to my room, locking myself inside so she nor anyone of her many visitors would annoy me.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I turned and saw my room, the single mattress on the floor in the right hand corner of my small room, my chest of drawers that had barely any clothes in them and the necessities of an ensuite; only a shower and a toilet.

The curtains of my room were only sheer curtains, now torn at the ends as they blew freely in the breeze since the doors to the tiny balcony were now smashed.

I growled in annoyance, knowing it was probably my father that had done that in one of his drunken rampages while I was away.

The floor of my room was made of dodgy floorboards, giving you the occaisional splinter if you werent careful and now that it was littered with shattered glass, it was even more dangerous.

stepping cautiously over to the mattress that was my bed, I smiled slightly as I ran my hands over its surface and felt the faded pink fabric beneath me; I was so thankful to be back here...

I got up as I grabbed the folded towel from the end of my matress, carefully stepping around the shards of glass as I made my way towards the ensuite where I was met by a smashed mirror and broken wall tiles that littered the floor in here too.

This time, I growled loudly as I saw the mess, thankfull that the toilet, sink and shower were still in one piece.

Showering wasnt exactly pleasant when I was here, with no hot water or a decent sized shower cubicle; cold water and a very restricted area of movement was still better than nothing.

The cold water warmed me up a little, not alot because the breeze from my smashed window blew underneath the bathroom door and sent shivers down my spine.

The soap relaxed my aching muscles as I massed the foam into my skin thouroughly to wash off the dried blood; carefull not to accidentally touch the still very tender Claim on my collarbone.

Once showered, I dried myself off quickly before changing back into the clothes I had taken from my mates' wardrobe since they would be warmer than any of mine.

Slipping on a pair of my black hightops, I tied my hair back up and threw the towel onto the end of my bed.

I just wanted to lay down, to rest my aching limbs and sleep since it was close to midnight but that wasnt the reason I left James' house. I couldve easily slept there and been comfortable but no, I needed to see Markus' father, to pay my respects to Markus and find some sort of peace in knowing that he died peacefully and not in pain...

It hurt to think about it but it was urgent; that I see his pack and family, to know that they were all alright...

Walking back out of the apartment, finding my mother still passed out in the hall, I sidestepped her before grabbing my wallet from the cabinet near the front door.

From there I would call a cab and try to get to Markus' packhouse as soon as I could, before this snowstorn turned into a blizzard and I couldnt go anywhere.

And that would give James the upperhand in coming for me since his wolfs' fur was thick enough to withstand the snow.

I needed to keep moving, not to stay in the one place for too long otherwise he'd find me... that murderer... my mate...