7 Degrees of Alpha (a collection of seven new BWWM, Alpha Male Romances) (3 page)

“Are you serious?” Val asked him in disbelief.

“Of course. Why not?”

She watched him. She was curious enough about him to wonder if he was genuine, or if he was just like all the other guys she’d met. Wanting to seem interested, when they weren’t, but pretending for the sake of appearances. But Jones’ face gave nothing away.

Val didn’t know how to take his offer. Should she just allow him to take her to work and show him around? She had never met a man this intense, a man who knew what he wanted and just went straight out to get it. It was disconcerting, yet thrilling, at the same time.

She thought about her relationship with Damon and wondered whether she should say anything to Jones about it. But she decided that it wasn’t an issue, and why bring up something that wasn’t important. She and Damon were going nowhere; she knew that, but the familiarity was holding her to him. He had no interest in her work or her. It seemed some days he just brushed her off with nothing more than a grunt, like today when she mentioned her predicament.

To hell with it!

“Sure, why not? I never get a chance to show off my favorite pieces anyway.” Val smiled at Jones and saw him relax visibly. “Did you think I was going to say no?” she asked him, referring to his unease.

“Well…” He paused, his olive skin paling slightly.

“Come on before I change my mind.”

Jones needed no more encouragement than that and sprang up from his seat, throwing some money on the small platter that had their lunch receipt in it. Val noticed that he’d overpaid but didn’t seem to care. She kept making comparisons between him and Damon and tried to stop herself. She had other things on her mind at that moment, and analyzing the detective shouldn’t be the first thing that she was focusing on.

18:24 p.m. October 12, 2004

Val sat on the bus thinking back to the detective, Peter Jones, and his reaction when she’d shown him around the spacious gallery rooms with art that spanned centuries. She had introduced him to the senior curator, Philip Crow, and couldn’t help the smile that played over her lips when Philip had thought Jones was there about a theft.

“Stupid man.” Val snorted at his ignorance, and shook her head slightly, before remembering that she was on the bus with countless other people, some of whom may be watching her having a conversation with herself.

She looked out of the bus windows, noticing that she was nearing her stop and moved from her seat to make her way to the door. The walk from the bus stop was minimal, but it was the annoyance of not having her car that was pissing her off the most today. Despite meeting Prince Charming, she couldn’t help but wish that she hadn’t been in that predicament in the first place.

She pushed her key into the lock of her front door, hearing the blasting music that was Damon’s theme playing. She cringed inwardly, thinking and knowing that the place would be a mess with dishes in the sink no doubt, which she’d have to clean before she got down to making them dinner.

I am so over his shit.

What she couldn’t understand was, even though he had no career to speak of, unless you could call his bouncer gig a career, he always had plenty of money in his pocket. Where he got it from, she didn’t care or want to know. He rarely spent any on her, and she was glad. She didn’t wish to be a kept woman; she was far too independent for that.

“Damon, can you turn the music down? The neighbors are gonna complain again!” she shouted into the apartment as soon as she got through the door.

Val made her way into the sitting room and spotted her friend, Sandra, sitting on the sofa.

“Oh. Hey, Sandra. Did we have a date or something?” she asked her long-time friend.

Sandra’s mocha colored skin and wide, brown sugar eyes gave nothing away. The only thing that Val noticed was the slight pinching of her mouth before she answered. She had known this woman for a long time, and that small sign always gave away her real feelings.

What Sandra’s real feelings were, Val didn’t want to guess, especially now with her mind still reeling with thoughts of Jones. Plus, she was getting a vibe that she didn’t like too much, it made her want to ask questions of Sandra; question Damon on why he’d let her friend in when she wasn’t home. Val wanted to ask a million and one questions about why they were there alone, but she pushed it down and away. This wasn’t the time for a conflict, not when she’d made up her mind that Damon and she were breaking up anyway. If they were doing what Val had suspected for a long time now, they were welcome to each other.  She didn’t want to be that type of woman who turned a blind eye to her man cheating.

“Hey, you,” Sandra answered. “Nah, I just thought I’d pass by because I was in the area.” Her smile was bright as she rose from the sofa and planted a kiss on Val’s cheek. 

“Oh. When I called you earlier, you told me you were busy and couldn’t come and get me from the Police Station, so you finished what you were doing them? Val asked.

Sandra brushed Val’s inquiry off with a shrug. “Oh, yeah. I finished that earlier. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

“Okay. No biggie. Where’s Damon?”

“Uh, he went to take a shower, he said…Something or other like that,” Sandra responded slowly.

“Okay, cool. Let me get changed. Be right back,” Val told her as she made her way to the bedroom to change her work clothes.

As she passed the bathroom, she heard Damon talking and stopped to listen. His responses to whoever he was talking to were cryptic and short, giving nothing away. She shrugged her shoulders. It was clearly one of his many friends. It being a Thursday night, he was probably working, making it normal for him to hook up with his buddies or colleagues. She didn’t care; the less she saw of him, the better.

Val opened the door to her room and noticed that the windows had been thrown open, causing the evening air to engulf the room. She didn’t care for it much, but Damon was always doing it, claiming he hated a stuffy room.

Val snorted, thinking about the amount of cheap aftershave he used on a daily or hourly basis, so it was hardly a wonder he hated stuffy rooms!

Val began removing her clothes, just as the door burst open to admit Damon. His muscular body took up space in the small room, making it smaller with his over-bearing presence.

“Can’t you knock?” she asked angrily.

“I need to knock on doors in my own home?” His chiseled ebony face registered annoyance, “Really, Val? Are you serious?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know it was you, considering the amount of people that traipse through here some days!”

He puffed himself up, threatening her. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t even go there!” she warned him. “You lay a finger on me, and I’m calling the police!”

“Just try it, bitch!”

“I ain’t even joking with you! Not today! No fucking way.” Val was scared, but she tried to hide it. She wasn’t going to let him bully her. Her mind was made up; this was the last time he was going to intimidate her.

“Hey, if you don’t like it, you know what to do!” he told her, walking towards her menacingly.

“Oh, we’re back on this conversation again, are we?” Val pulled her blouse closed, turning on him in fury. “I think you’re the one who needs to find a new place, seeing as this one is mine! I pay the damn bills here!”

“Maybe I fucking will!” Damon shouted.

“Then what’s goddamn holding you?”

“Hey, hey! Hold it down you two! God!” said Sandra, trying to defuse the argument and instill some calm. She’d walked down the hall when she’d heard them shouting, knowing they wouldn’t get too out of hand with her there. Damon could be a little hands-on when he wanted.

“Listen, bitch!” Damon stabbed his finger at Val. “I don’t need your shit! I'm gone… Fuck you.” Damon eyed her, giving her his signature glare.

“Good fucking riddance! You think I'm gonna cry over you and your sorry ass? You’re doing me a favor!” She’d made up her mind; she was going to let him walk out of the door, and there’d be no coming back. This was the last time that she was letting him walk out and then take him back later. He could get out and stay the fuck away from her; she didn’t need it.

“Don’t forget your clothes!” she called after his retreating back. “Or you’re gonna come back and find them outside the damn door!”

Sandra eyed her in shock, her pixie-like face paling.

“What?” Val looked at her with anger. “Don’t even start!”

“I didn’t say a thing,” Sandra replied soothingly.

They heard the door slam.

“Shit!” Val swore. “I forgot to get my key! Bastard!”

“Forget it. He’ll be back. It’s just a little disagreement,” Sandra told her.

“What did you say?” Val looked at her in astonishment. “What makes you think that I’d let him back in? I’ve had it with his shit. And you; you think I don’t know what’s going on?”

“What the fuck, Val? You’re tripping, girlfriend!” Sandra said, her large, molasses colored eyes widening in astonishment.

“Whatever!” Val pulled on her hair tie to loosen it from her hair. “I think you should go too. I'm not in the mood for any more crap tonight,” Val explained, trying to get a grip on her wrought emotions. “First my car goes missing; now this! I’ll talk to you later.” Her anger had started to disappear, only to leave the anxiety behind.

She was anxious about Damon returning later and beating down the door, before beating down on her. He was a bully and once he’d been drinking, doing drugs or both, he would come back and turn on her, especially since Sandra had witnessed the whole thing. That was a blow to his manhood, as far as he would see it. Not to mention, he thought Val belonged to him, and she’d told him so many times that she belonged to no one; certainly not his sorry ass.

She’d promised herself she wouldn’t call Sandra out on her suspicions, and she had almost done just that. She didn’t know what they were playing at, and she didn’t care; not now that she’d decided to close the door on her relationship with Damon. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. He had never let her go in the past. He had two methods for getting her back; the overbearing tyrant that always came on strong or the ultra-sincere gentleman that showered her with gifts and dinners, and even then the gentleman act wouldn’t last long and he would return to his crappy ways once he thought she was securely in her place.

She couldn’t see herself taking him back. She needed to get over him and get on with her life. The need to be wrapped up in his life was long gone. She’d been doing it for far too long with nothing to show for the effort. There was nothing like the stagnation that came with familiarity. She hadn’t wanted to be the one that threw in the towel, but she could see she was fighting a losing battle. Frankly, she’d had enough of that struggle. It was time to put up her gloves and move on.

Val walked behind Sandra to the sitting room and watched her as she put on her jacket and picked up her purse.

“Are you sure you don’t want some company?” Sandra asked her quietly.

“No, thank you,” she replied a bit too quickly. “I just need some time alone, to get my head around this.” Val waved her hand around the room, seeing the mess and biting the inside of her mouth to stop herself from screaming in frustration.

“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm here for you if you need me.” Sandra gripped Val’s hands that were clutched into rigid fists. “Call me, okay?”

Val didn’t trust herself to answer, nodding her head instead. She watched Sandra exit the room and listened for the door to close. When the lock clicked shut, she raced down the hallway and threw the bolt into place. She didn’t want either of them there ever again!

Val sank to the floor, the day running along in her mind like an old movie reel. First her car had gone missing, then she’d come home to find her so-called best friend sitting in her apartment after the same friend had told her that she was too busy to help her out of her predicament that morning! Last but not least, a man who she’d been living with, supporting and uplifting for years was gone with no apologies. The reaction to the reality of her situation was almost too much to bare.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened. She had no idea why she was even so upset. It was a mixture of relief, fear, desperation, acceptance, and the emotions stemming from the realization that she was finally alone and free to do as she pleased. She didn’t have to put up with Damon and his mood swings, anger management problems, or his general disregard for anything she wanted or tried to do. The worst thing was that years ago, they had been a great couple, people always saying how good they looked together.

But recently, Damon had changed and she barely knew what was going on in his life anymore. He’d become so secretive over the last six months that she wondered if he was even the same person. Something new was going on in his life, a new interest that had taken all his focus from what his normal pursuits were. Val knew he was always with his friends, but she hadn’t seen those guys around. The people he was with now, were guarded, and a touch too friendly. They made her wary and she never stayed in the same room with them alone, not that they came around often.  His new friends had changed him, and she didn’t want to be involved with a changed Damon. The old one was bad enough.

She pushed herself up from the floor, deciding to take action, rather than sit and wallow in misery. All she wanted to concentrate on now was getting Damon's clothes and other stuff out of her apartment. She wondered if she should leave the property altogether, rather than try and live there and run the risk of Damon harassing her. Yet, there was too much history in this place for her to move forward and leave the past behind.

As realization struck her, a shiver danced up her spine. Damon having easy access to her caused her to contemplate the situation from another perspective. She didn’t want to have to look over her shoulder every day, and with his volatile, manic nature, he could do anything. Comprehending that he could come back had a new fear gripping her. 

Her phone started ringing, and Val groaned, fearing that it was Damon or someone else she didn’t want to speak to.

She snatched the phone from her bag, “Any shit from anyone, and I'm turning this off…,” she mumbled as she pressed the speak button,

“Yes!” Val snapped, none too pleasantly.

“Sorry, Darling, but who pissed you off?” Jones asked her enquiringly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought it was someone else,” Val apologized.

“Something I should know?” he asked her.

“No… Yes… No… Shit... It doesn’t matter. Just some stupid stuff that’s been going on longer than it should have.” Val tried to organize her mind and emotions, not wanting to be a burden to the first decent man she’d met in years.

“I’m going to say this again. Perhaps you didn’t hear me properly the first time. Is there something you want to tell me?” Jones asked her again, attempting to get through the wall she’d thrown up. “I thought we were friends?”

“It’s nothing, really. I just need to get my locks changed, that’s all.”