Kidnapped by the Alpha King

My name is Airabella Loggins. With long, wavy strands of strawberry blonde hair and piercing dark blue eyes, I effortlessly catch the gaze of those around me in the quaint town of Woodsprings. Recently, my mother and I found ourselves relocating here, settling into a snug two-bedroom apartment situated above an antique shop. However, our move wasn't a matter of choice but rather a response to dire circumstances. Following my grandmother's passing, we were burdened with insurmountable medical bills, leaving us with no option but to sell off her cherished possessions just to keep afloat.

In our twisted dynamic, I often find myself thrust into the role of a parent to my own mother. She seeks comfort at the bottom of a bottle, drowning her sorrows in alcohol, while pointing fingers at me for her misfortunes. The scars of my father's abandonment, upon learning of her pregnancy with me, remain etched within her, festering wounds that never truly healed. Drunkenly, she reminds me of my existence as an unwanted mistake, lamenting lost love and shattered dreams in a cycle that replays far too often.

Despite the agony it brings, the thought of breaking free from this suffocating cycle fills me with a dread so consuming it's almost paralyzing. The idea of leaving my mother alone in her downward spiral terrifies me beyond measure. I can't shake the fear that her reckless behavior could lead to her demise, a fate I can't bear to envision. And so, I remain, bearing the weight of her burdens alongside my own, trapped in a cycle of despair and longing for a glimmer of hope to break through the darkness.

Amidst the swirling chaos of my life, Rikki emerged as a much-needed ray of light. Her long, dark brunette hair frames her face like a curtain of silk, complementing her olive skin and the fierce intensity of her brown eyes. With an aura of unshakeable confidence and a healthy dose of sass, she brings a spark of vitality wherever she goes. We've forged a bond of friendship that feels like it was meant to be. Rikki's vivacious spirit injects joy into my days, offering a reprieve from the darkness that threatens to engulf me. It's a relief, a breath of fresh air, to finally have a friend again.

Rikki has not only been a friend but a mentor of sorts, guiding me through the tumultuous waters of life. She's taken me under her wing, helping me find my footing and boosting my confidence in ways I never thought possible. Her mantra, "What would Rikki do? Then do it," has become my guiding principle, a reminder to embrace life with courage and authenticity.

As the eve of my 21st birthday approached, Rikki and I found ourselves pulling a long shift at Shiloh’s, our shared workplace. Despite the fatigue settling in from the day's work, Rikki's excitement about our plans for tomorrow bubbled over. "Airabella, I can't wait to take you out for your birthday!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I'll even bring you a hot dress so you can catch the eye of some guys," she added mischievously, a teasing grin playing on her lips. Her words caused a blush to creep across my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

But amidst the excitement, a pang of guilt tugged at my heart. "Rikki, I'm not sure if I should go out. What about my mother?" I voiced my concern, unable to shake off the responsibility that weighed heavily on my shoulders. "Airabella, you deserve to be happy," Rikki responded earnestly, her voice gentle but firm. "You deserve one night to celebrate, to let loose and enjoy yourself. I'll take care of everything, just trust me," she reassured me with a warm smile, her unwavering support washing over me like a comforting embrace.

In that moment, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for Rikki's friendship, for her unwavering belief in me even when I struggled to believe in myself. With her by my side, I felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps, just for one night, I could set aside my worries and embrace the joy of celebration.

As the night began to wind down and my anticipation for my upcoming birthday celebration grew, a table of three imposing men entered the restaurant. Their presence commanded attention, each one exuding an air of confidence that matched their strong, muscular builds. One had dark brunette hair, while the other two sported blonde and red locks, their rugged appearances reminiscent of lumberjacks.

Approaching their table with a warm smile, I introduced myself, determined to provide excellent service despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. As I took their orders, they began to flirt with me, their playful banter tinged with suggestive undertones. Reciprocating their advances with a polite yet friendly demeanor, I hoped for a generous tip as I made my way back to the kitchen.

Rikki sidled up to me with a mischievous grin, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, Airabella, I think they've got the hots for you," she teased, her tone playful. "But I call dibs on the really tall redhead one. I have never been with a redhead before." Rolling my eyes at her antics, I replied, "Oh, stop it, Rikki. I just hope they tip well." But Rikki wasn't about to let it go. As she continued to nudge me towards the idea of pursuing one of them, mentioning that Burnette and blonde had attended her high school a few years prior, I couldn't help but brush off her suggestions with a laugh. "I'm not looking for anyone to date right now," I confessed, my tone sincere. "I have too much on my plate as it is."

Deep down, I knew that my focus needed to remain on navigating the challenges at home and at work, rather than diving headfirst into a new romantic entanglement. With Rikki's playful encouragement echoing in my ears, I pushed aside the fleeting temptation, knowing that my priorities lay elsewhere for the time being.

After delivering their food, the brunette, Will, took advantage of the moment to introduce himself and boldly asked for my number, suggesting we go on a date. Despite his charming demeanor, I politely declined, explaining that I didn't give out my personal information to customers. I couldn't ignore the slight disappointment that flickered across his face as I spoke.

As they left, I noticed Will had left his number scrawled on a napkin alongside a generous thirty-dollar tip. Later, Rikki approached me, her curiosity evident in her expression. "So, are you going to call Will?" she inquired, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. Shaking my head, I replied firmly, "No, trust me. I know those types of men. They just want sex."

Rikki raised an eyebrow, offering a counterpoint, "But it sounded like he wanted to take you on a date, not just sleep with you. And hey, if it turns into something more, why not enjoy it? There are so many women who would kill to be in your place." Chuckling at her persistence, I retorted, "Well, those women can have him." Rikki grinned at my response. "Girl, you're brutal, and I love it." We shared a laugh before closing up the restaurant together and heading home, leaving the events of the night behind us as we eagerly anticipated the birthday celebrations awaiting us tomorrow.

As I wake up early on my birthday, anticipation tingles in the air, mingled with a sense of resignation. The familiar sight greets me as I step into the living room – my mother, passed out on the couch, an empty bottle clutched in her hand while another lies discarded on the ground. It's a scene I've grown accustomed to, one that stirs a mixture of frustration and empathy within me.Without a word, I set about the task of cleaning up the aftermath of her latest escapade, fetching water and painkillers as she groggily requests. When she mumbles a slurred "Happy Birthday, Airabella," I can't help but feel a pang of sadness at the state of our relationship, overshadowed by her addiction.

Her next words only deepen the ache in my heart. "Since you're now 21," she slurs, "I need vodka from the liquor store." Handing me a twenty-dollar bill and instructing me to buy something for myself with whatever change is left, she sends me off on the errand, oblivious to the weight of her words and the significance of the day. As I step out into the morning sunlight, the weight of my responsibilities pressing down on me like a heavy burden, I can't help but wonder if this is what adulthood truly entails – a constant cycle of caring for others while silently bearing the weight of their struggles, even on the day meant to celebrate my own existence. With a heavy heart, I push aside my own desires and set off to fulfill yet another duty in the endless cycle of caretaking.

Reluctantly accepting the responsibility thrust upon me, I grab my keys and make my way to the liquor store. As I step inside, my senses are immediately assaulted by the familiar smell of alcohol and the dim lighting of the store. To my surprise, the blonde men I served last night stands there, a friendly smile gracing his features. "Hi Airabella, nice to see you again. I'm Chester," he greets me warmly, his voice carrying genuine friendliness. I manage a small smile and a wave in response, still feeling a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter.

Noticing my apparent confusion as I scan the aisles, Chester approaches me, offering his assistance. With a sense of gratitude, I accept his help as he guides me to the vodka section. His understanding gaze catches mine, and I realize he can see through the facade I've put up – that I'm not a drinker, and this errand isn't for me. Quickly selecting a bottle of vodka, I hope it's enough to satisfy my mother's cravings for the night, but not so much that it will encourage her to indulge further. As I place the bottle on the counter to pay, a sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach, a silent prayer echoing in my mind that tonight will be different, that maybe, just maybe, my mother will find the strength to resist the pull of her addiction.

At the checkout, Chester's friendly demeanor remains unchanged as he flashes a big smile and requests my ID. With a chuckle, I hand it over, and he quickly confirms my age before returning it with a nod of approval. "So, you're not from around here," he observes, a hint of curiosity in his voice. I laugh softly, shaking my head. "No, I just moved here about three months ago."

As he rings up the bottle of vodka, Chester notices the date on my ID and his expression brightens. "Ah, your 21st birthday! Well, happy birthday!" he exclaims, genuine warmth evident in his words. "Thank you, Chester," I reply warmly, feeling a flicker of gratitude for his kindness.

He then leans in slightly, a casual interest in his eyes. "Any plans for the day?" he inquires.

A smile spreads across my face as I excitedly respond, "Yes, I'm going out with Rikki tonight, girls' night." Chester nods approvingly, offering his well wishes. "Sounds like fun. Enjoy yourself." With a grateful nod, I gather the bag containing the bottle of vodka and bid Chester farewell as I leave the store. Returning home, I find my mother waiting, her expression lighting up as she sees the bottle in my hand. She expresses her gratitude, a hint of relief evident in her eyes that I can now purchase alcohol for her. Despite the complexities of my life and the challenges I face, tonight's birthday celebration with Rikki promises a glimmer of joy and freedom amidst the chaos. And for that, I'm grateful.

After handing my mother her coveted bottle of vodka, I shift gears to prepare for my shift at Shiloh’s. With practiced efficiency, I set to work, applying makeup with a touch of extra glitter, determined to add a sparkle to my appearance for the long night ahead. As each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick accentuates my features, I can't help but hope that tonight will hold a touch of magic, despite the mundane routine of work. Moving on to my hair, I opt for soft curls, wanting to feel effortlessly pretty as I navigate the evening's festivities. With each twist of the curling iron, I weave strands of anticipation into my locks, ready to embrace the celebrations awaiting me once my shift is over.

Anticipating the birthday bash with Rikki afterward, I meticulously pack a few essentials into my purse. Alongside the practicalities of makeup for touch-ups and my phone, I carefully tuck away my favorite perfume – a precious memento from my grandmother's collection. As I spritz myself with the familiar scent, memories of my grandmother flood my mind, a bittersweet reminder of happier times gone by. She had a knack for collecting perfumes, and each bottle held a story, a fragment of her vibrant personality that I carried with me always. 

With everything I need in hand, I pause to give my mother a hug before heading out the door. She's engrossed in her television stories, a fleeting moment of calm amidst the chaos of her life. I glance at the screen, noting that she's watching some fantasy series about fairy tale creatures. Suddenly, she yells at the TV, declaring defiantly, "I don't care what they say, they are real. I have seen it." It's a moment that brings a mixture of emotions bubbling to the surface. My mother has always had these delusional episodes, particularly when her addiction takes hold. My grandmother used to say that her mind was poisoned after my father left, and sometimes, it's hard not to see the truth in those words.

Despite the challenges we face, despite the turmoil that swirls around us, I can't help but feel a pang of affection for her. In this moment, as I wrap my arms around her, I'm reminded of the unconditional love I still hold for the woman who brought me into this world. Despite her struggles, despite the moments of darkness that threaten to consume her, she's still my mother, and that bond runs deep.

As I stepped into Shiloh’s, ready for another night of work, I felt a buzz of excitement coursing through my veins, mingled with anticipation for the festivities to come. Rikki greeted me with her usual flair, her words laced with playful enthusiasm. "You look absolutely stunning, girl! You're going to have those guys eating out of the palm of your hand!" Her bold proclamation drew a few stares from nearby customers, but Rikki simply giggled and swiftly returned to her duties. With Rikki by my side, the energy in the air seemed to crackle with excitement. We were both eager to power through the shift and move on to the real celebration awaiting us at the club. As we navigated through the evening rush, our laughter and camaraderie served as a beacon of light, guiding us through the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. Despite the challenges and occasional stares from curious onlookers, I couldn't help but feel grateful for Rikki's unwavering support and infectious enthusiasm. 

To my surprise, the same trio of guys from last night sauntered into Shiloh’s, this time taking a seat in Rikki’s section. Ever the proactive server, Rikki wasted no time in taking their orders, her confident demeanor leaving no room for hesitation. With a playful grin, she sauntered over to me, excitement radiating from her every move. "I hope you don't mind, but I told the guys we're going to the club," she announced, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I couldn't help but chuckle at her audaciousness. "Oh my god, Rikki," I exclaimed, a mix of amusement and disbelief coloring my tone.

Undeterred by my reaction, Rikki continued with unwavering enthusiasm. "Hey, they're all fine as hell, and who knows, maybe they'll buy our drinks all night." With a playful wink, she leaned in closer, her optimism infectious. Rikki always had a knack for finding an angle, and her ability to see the silver lining in any situation never failed to amaze me. Despite my initial reservations about mixing work with pleasure, I couldn't help but feel swept up in her enthusiasm. After all, what harm could a night of fun with a few handsome strangers do? With a grin of my own, I nodded in agreement, ready to embrace whatever the night had in store for us.

As we finished out the shift, Rikki emerged from the back with a dress and heels in hand. The cobalt blue spaghetti strap dress and sleek black stilettos she handed me made me blush at their revealing nature. "Rikki, this is really... something," I stammered, feeling a bit self-conscious just holding the outfit in my hands.But Rikki just laughed, her confidence infectious as ever. "If you think that's revealing, just wait until you see mine," she teased, a misc hievous twinkle in her eye. Sure enough, when we changed into our outfits, Rikki's tight black mini dress and bold red heels made my attire seem tame in comparison. I couldn't help but marvel at her ability to effortlessly exude confidence in even the most daring of ensembles.

After touching up our makeup and finalizing our plans for the evening, I couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that bubbled within me. Despite my initial reservations about the revealing outfit, I found myself embracing the excitement of the night ahead, ready to let loose and revel in the freedom of the moment.

Following Rikki's lead, I left my car at home and climbed into hers, ready to embark on a night of celebration and adventure. With Rikki's infectious energy guiding us, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement for what the night had in store.

As Rikki lit up a joint while we drove to the next town, I couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement. Weed was something I'd never tried before, but with it being my 21st birthday, I figured, why not step out of my comfort zone? With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I tentatively took a hit from the joint, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over me as the familiar scent filled the car. As the weed worked its magic, I felt a sense of calm settle over me, mingling with the buzz of anticipation for the night ahead. Rikki had a knack for getting us pumped up, and the pulsating beats of the electronic dance music only added to the excitement coursing through my veins.

Amidst the haze of smoke and the thumping bass, Rikki mentioned that it was opening weekend for the club called the Wolves Din we were headed to. But she reassured me with a confident grin that we wouldn't have to wait in line. Apparently, she had connections – the owner was her brother's best friend