Chapter 19: The Rooftop

ASHER

The note had been waiting in my drawer like a coiled snake.

’Meet me on the rooftop after the last period. We need to talk. – R’

I’d stared at it for a full minute, my hands trembling as I held the small slip of paper. Reed, of course it was Reed, who else would leave cryptic notes in my drawer like we were living in some kind of a thriller novel?

For the past three weeks, I’d been a ghost. I changed my routes between classes, ate lunch in the library instead of the cafeteria, disbanded my group, and practically sprinted from the building the moment the final bell rang. Anything to avoid crossing paths with Reed Jackson, the Alpha who’d somehow managed to see right through me during that disastrous confrontation in my room.

The memory still made my skin crawl, the way his eyes had narrowed, studying me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve.

The way he’d stepped closer, invading my space, his Alpha presence pressing against my carefully constructed walls, and worst of all, the way he’d said, “You’re not what you seem, are you?”

I should have ignored the note.

I should have crumpled it up and thrown it away, continued my avoidance strategy until graduation allowed me to disappear from this school and everyone in it, but Reed knew something, or suspected something, and that made him dangerous in ways I couldn’t afford to ignore, and I was scared he might expose me to the whole Academy, and they would know i was nothing but a bloody omega living in lies. That was one secret I was going to take to my grave, no matter what.

So here I was, climbing the stairs to the rooftop as the last slowpokes cleared out of the building below, my heart hammering against my ribs with each step.

The metal door groaned as I pushed it open, and the late afternoon sunlight hit my face. The rooftop was empty, just concrete, the old HVAC units humming in the corner, and the safety railing that overlooked the football field below, and there was no Reed.

I should have known it was a trap when I find the rooftop quiet and empty. If Reed was here, he would have been sitting in the open, staring at me with that look that stirs something inside of me. Then suddenly, I heard the laughter and spun around immediately.

They emerged from behind the HVAC units like predators who’d been lying in wait. Five of them. All Alphas, I could tell from their size, their swagger, the way they moved with that particular brand of arrogance that came from being at the top of the hierarchy.

I recognized two from the football team, another from my calculus class. The others were unfamiliar, but it didn’t matter. The intent in their eyes was universal and unmistakable.

“Well, well,” the largest one said, cracking his knuckles. His letter jacket strained against shoulders that looked like they could bench-press a car. “The little ghost finally came out to play.”

I took a step back toward the door, but another one had already moved to block it. My mind raced, calculating odds, escape routes, anything, but I was cornered, and we all knew it.

“Reed’s not coming, in case you were wondering,” said the one from my calculus class, Brandon, I thought his name was. He had a smile that might have been charming if it wasn’t currently twisted with malice. “We thought it was time someone taught you a lesson about your place.”

“My place?” I kept my voice steady, even as adrenaline flooded my system. “And what place would that be?”

“At the bottom,” the leader growled, moving closer. “Where weak Alphas belong. You’ve been strutting around this school like you’re something special, but we all know what you really are. We can smell it on you, underneath all those facades, you are just a fucking weakling.”

My blood ran cold, do they know what’s going on? Have they figured me out? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but I could even hear how weak it sounded.

“Don’t play stupid,” Brandon sneered. “Did you really think you could hide it forever? We Alphas, we know our own kind, and we know when something’s pretending to be what it’s not.”

“Haha, being a fragile Alpha, doesn’t make me less of an Alpha. If anything it makes me unique.” I informed them.

They gritted their teeth before forming a semicircle around me, backing me toward the railing. The sun felt too bright, the air too thin. I was trapped, and they knew it, and the predatory gleam in their eyes said they were going to enjoy this.

“Still denying that you are not one of us, are you? That’s fine. Here’s how this is going to work,” the leader said, his voice dropping to something dark and dangerous. “We are going to make it very simple and easy for you, you’re going to stop this little charade. Stop hiding what you are, tell the school how weak you are, and you’re going to learn some respect.”

“Or what?” The words came out before I could stop them, sharp and defiant. I’d spent too many years being pushed around, being told what I was worth, running away because of fear, hiding all my life, and being treated like I was less than. Something in me snapped. “You’re going to beat respect into me? That’s very Alpha of you, guess that’s why I can never be someone like you.”

I saw the rage flash across his face a split second before his fist connected with my jaw.

Pain exploded through my skull, and I staggered sideways, my shoulder hitting the railing hard. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I barely had time to raise my hands before another blow caught me in the ribs, driving the air from my lungs.

I tried to fight back, landed a solid punch on someone’s nose that produced a satisfying crunch, but I was one against five, and they were all bigger, stronger, and trained fighters. A fist slammed into my stomach. Someone grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. Another blow caught my cheekbone, and I felt the skin split.

The world started to blur, edges going soft and fuzzy. I was on the ground now, curled up, trying to protect my vital organs as boots connected with my ribs, my back, and my legs. Blood ran from somewhere on my head, warm and sticky, matting my hair.

Then hands grabbed me differently, not hitting, but pulling, tearing at my clothes. My shirt ripped, buttons scattering across the concrete. Rough fingers dug into my skin, and panic cut through the pain like a knife.

“No-” I tried to fight, tried to kick out, but my body wasn’t responding right anymore. Everything hurt, everything was spinning, and those hands kept grabbing, groping, violating-

The roar shook the rooftop.

It wasn’t just loud, it was primal, and filled with a rage and authority that made every Alpha instinct in the vicinity snap to attention. Even through my haze of pain and fear, I felt it resonate in my bones, commanding and absolute.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM.”

Reed’s voice. I’d never heard it like that before, I didn’t know it could sound like that, like thunder and fury and barely leashed violence all rolled into one.

Through swollen eyes, I saw him. He stood in the doorway to the roof, and he looked like an avenging angel, that’s if angels had murder in their eyes. His whole body vibrated with barely contained rage, and his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had gone white.

The Alphas around me scrambled backward, responding to the challenge from someone clearly higher in the hierarchy than they were. The leader tried to stand his ground.

“Jackson, this doesn’t concern-” He didn’t get to finish. Reed crossed the distance between them in three strides and his fist connected with the leader’s face with a sickening crack. The Alpha went down like a puppet with cut strings.

“Anyone else?” Reed’s voice was deadly quiet now, somehow more terrifying than the roar. His eyes swept over the others, and I saw them all take an instinctive step back. “Anyone else want to explain to me why you thought it was acceptable to put your hands on him?”

No one answered. No one dared to move.

“Get. Out.” Each word was bitten off, sharp as broken glass. “And if I ever… ever… see any of you near him again, what I just did will look like a gentle warning. Do I make myself clear?”

They ran. All five of them, scrambling for the door, carrying their fallen leader between them, and then it was just me and Reed, and the sound of my ragged breathing, and the blood pooling beneath me on the concrete.

Reed dropped to his knees beside me, and his hands, the same hands that had just delivered that devastating punch, were impossibly gentle as they touched my face.

“Asher,” he said, and his voice cracked on my name. “Asher, stay with me. Can you hear me?”

I tried to answer, but everything was getting darker around the edges, the pain fading into a strange numbness that I knew couldn’t be good. The last thing I felt was Reed’s arms sliding under me, lifting me carefully against his chest.

The last thing I heard was him saying something urgent into his phone, something about getting the doctor ready, and then there was nothing but darkness, and the fading warmth of Reed’s protective embrace.

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