They Call Him Alpha [NEW VERSION]

⋭ Escape

They Call Him Alpha [New Version]

Let's finally finish this. Some things will be familiar, but there's a lot of new in this version. I hope you stay tuned!

~AuAu

Copyright © 2019 They Call Him Alpha

⋭Escape

It was two a.m. when I made my escape.

The house was silent.

I quietly unlocked the French doors that led to the balcony. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid that I might be caught in my escape. The pale moonlight flooded in through the windows, illuminating the affluent interior of the upstairs study. I felt like an escaped prisoner, caught in sight of a jail's search light. The thought made me more anxious, causing my hands to tremor as I pulled on the latch of the door. The night's cool breeze enveloped me. I could hear the papers on the desk behind me flutter to the ground. I quickly stepped outside onto the balcony and went further into the embrace of the night air. I slowly closed the doors behind me, trying to my best not to make noise. I walked to the balcony edge, observing the still and quiet yard below. I breathed in the crisp air and bathed in the moon's glow.

This was it.

This was my escape.

I would finally rid myself of the burdening expectations of my parents which chained me down. I wasn't their child; I was their doll. And this was their doll house and my prison. Here, my voice was never heard, and my dreams never realized. As much as I tried to rebel against them, they tried to force me back into their mold. I had to escape-I just had to. They were going to auction me off-my hand in marriage to the son of the wealthiest family. I wouldn't allow myself to be shipped fromone prison to another.

But that meant leaving Clay. As his big sister, it was my job to protect him-especially from my parents. As his only son, my father wanted to groom him to be his successor in the family business. I wouldn't let our parent's greed rob Clay of his whole childhood, like they did mine. But now Clay was fifteen, and in my absence, he'd have to learn to fend for himself. Though, he wasn't completely on his own, he had Jana, our nanny-but she was much more than that. Jana practically raised us, stepping in to fulfill the role of our mother. Not that our real mother was dead-no, she was very much alive and well. She was just only a mother when it was easy and glamorous, like buying dresses or planning play dates with her snobby friends' children. But Jana was there for everything-from dirty diapers to my first period-she took care of us when it wasn't glamorous enough for my mother.

Neither Clay nor Jana knew I'd be leaving tonight. Hell, I hadn't even known until a couple of days ago. It was all just happening so fast-the engagement, the ring, the dress...the wedding. I had laid awake all night with the panic suffocating me. I had to leave. I had to go. I'd felt it-felt it aching in my bones.

I shook my head, displacing the memories and thoughts. Tonight, I was leaving this hellhole, and I was never coming back. I needed to focus on the task at hand. Lowering to a crouch, I took my bag off my back and reached inside for the rope I had fashioned from bed sheets. I smirked at the rope. They were the sheets from my mother's favorite bedding set; I bet she'll be missing these in the morning. I tied one end of the homemade rope to the balcony's railing, and then tossed the other end over the ledge. A grin slid onto my face when I saw that the rope was just long enough to reach the ground.

Closing my bag, I tossed it back over my shoulder. I firmly grasped the balcony's railing, swinging my legs over it. I peered over the ledge; there was a long drop waiting for me if it wasn't careful. Taking a few deep breaths, I lowered myself down to grab onto the rope. Cautiously, with my legs wrapped around it, I worked my way down the string of bed sheets. Halfway to the ground, I heard the sound of something ripping. I looked up to see a tear forming. Saying every swear word under my breath, I quickened my pace and shimmied down the failing rope as quick as I could. I was only one foot away from touching the ground when the rope gave way. Using my shoulder to break the fall, I landed on the pavement with the remnants of the rope falling on top of me.

Groaning, I lifted myself up off the ground with my face burning from the impact. I glared at my mother's torn sheets on the ground.

"Even now she still manages to screw me over," I murmured, dusting myself off. Using my shoe, I rubbed the sheets into the dirt, staining them. "Stupid sheets."

Now with a sore left shoulder, I continued on. I tried to stay out of the sight line of windows, afraid that my parents might awaken and lay their eyes upon me. Because of my paranoia, I occasionally darted behind bushes or hedges. For once, I was grateful that my parent's posh taste and their need for a front yard decorated with all sorts of greenery, fountains, statues, and the lake. The layout of the yard allowed for easy maneuvering.

I turned onto the driveway, smiling wickedly when my target entered my sights. There in the driveway, with the moonlight reflecting off it, was my father's beloved white Maserati. Once again, I reached into my duffle bag, this time for a spray paint can. It had been Blake's. We had used it many times, painting the whole town red with our tags. I shook the can before uncapping and spraying the bright red paint.

Fuck you, it read. I grinned widely to myself.

I strolled away from the car and further down the drive way, shaking the can as I went. I could hear the hum of the Uber I'd ordered earlier waiting for me at the entrance. I hummed softly as I made my way to the gate.

I opened the car door. Sliding my bag off my shoulders-being careful of my sore left shoulder-I placed it on the seat first, before sliding in afterwards. The driver worriedly eyed me and the spray paint can in my hand. To him I probably looked insane and like I was up to no good. I didn't care; I was starting to feel alive. It was my first step towards freedom. It was the first daring thing I'd ever done by myself in my whole life. After years of taking pointless etiquette classes and being raised to be a perfect lady, I finally did something rebellious and my parents won't be able to punish me for it. I won't let them find me. I won't let them ever sink their claws back into me.

As I was swinging the door close, an idea sprouted in my head. I got out and searched around for a sizable rock. I weighed a couple of them before finding a nice hefty one. I grinned mischievously. As much as I didn't want to wake up Clay or disappoint Jana, I wanted to really send a message to my parents.

Stretching out my right shoulder, I wound up my arm. In one swift motion, I jerked my arm forward, released the rock, and sent it flying.

There was a crash and the sound of glass shattering.

I spun on my heel and darted back into the car. The driver's mouth was agape, and his tired eyes were suddenly wide with surprise.

"Drive!" I urged him. He just looked at me with the same stunned expression. I glanced towards this house; the alarm was blaring and there were now lights turned on and I could see the shadows of people as they scurried about. I hurriedly reached into my bag and pulled out a wad of cash and threw it into the driver's lap.

"Drive!" I urged again. The money seemed to draw the driver out from his stupor. He quickly put the car into gear and peeled out of the driveway.

As we left, I looked back to see the havoc I had caused. I reached into my bag once more and pulled out my camera. Switching it on, I steadied my focus and strengthened my grip as I pointed the camera out the window. I zoomed in and snapped a picture just as the car slipped out of view from the house. Flipping the camera over, I chuckled as I looked down at the screen to see my parent's house and the gaping hole right in the middle of the foyer window.

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