Marked By The Alpha
Pia realized that coming to this club was a mistake when she saw the fat, balding man stumbling towards her. He looked at least middle-aged and his pot belly wobbled as he staggered up to her.
“Hey, beautiful,” he leered, ignoring the death stare she gave him. “You know what would look great on me? You.”
Pia closed her eyes. Perhaps she should have just gone home when the third man old enough to be her father had hit on her. Alternatively, she could have worn a dress that was less appealing to the male sex – like a sack. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at the man before her – and immediately wished that she hadn’t. She could now see that he had awful yellow and black teeth. Even from a few feet away, she got the smell of bad breath overlaid with a generous dose of alcohol.
“Isn’t that sweet?” she purred. “But I think we have a bit of an age gap. Why don’t you go to the nearest elder’s home and try your luck there?”
Her voice oozed sarcasm. Even the drunk guy caught it. Giving her an angry stare, he staggered off and Pia breathed a sigh of relief – mostly to clear her lungs. Finishing her drink, she decided to escape to the relative anonymity of the dance floor. She liked the music and she soon immersed herself in the pounding beat. This was just what she needed. She felt all the stress that she was feeling wash away as she moved to the rhythm of the music.
Unfortunately, she soon started feeling something else. Someone had come behind her and had put his hands on her hips. Then, she felt something against her ass. Pia couldn’t believe it. Some stranger was rubbing up against her. She whirled around to see a tall, thin guy who looked homeless giving her a lascivious grin. Pia’s first impulse was to knee him as hard as she could in his crotch. Fighting to keep her temper under control, she contended herself with angrily giving him the finger and storming off to the bar.
She settled down and ordered a drink, taking a few moments to regain her composure.
“You know, a beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t be in such a bad mood,” said a deep voice with just a hint of an accent.
Pia gritted her teeth. Couldn’t she have just a moment of peace? She turned, determined to give the man a piece of her mind. She found herself staring at one of the most handsome men she had seen. He had a square jaw and bronzed smooth skin. Pia found herself melting as he gazed at her with his intense blue eyes.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” she said, managing to sound almost friendly. The man cocked an eyebrow and she laughed. “Well, maybe in slightly a bad mood,” she admitted.
“You have a beautiful smile,” said the man. “You should smile more. Life has its ups and downs, but you’ll feel better if you look at the positive side of things.”
“Really?” said Pia.
The man shrugged. “That’s what my mother said.” They laughed and the man offered his hand. “I’m Andrew.”
She took his hand. “Pia.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Pia.” He sounded almost courtly. Apart from his looks, there was something about that was different, although she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was tall and broad-shouldered and appeared to be very muscular, given the way he filled his suit. Judging by his Rolex watch and expensive-looking attire, he was clearly successful at what he did. Not that she was a gold digger, Pia told herself. Still, it was nice to talk to someone who didn’t live on the streets.
“So what do you do?” she asked.
“I’m a businessman,” said Andrew, without elaborating. “What about you?”
“I’m a journalist,” she replied. She was tempted to add, currently unemployed, but opted not to.
“That’s interesting,” he responded. “You must have lots of great stories.”
“A few.” If only you knew, she couldn’t help thinking. “So tell me about yourself, Andrew. Your English is very good, but do I detect a slight accent?”
He laughed. “You have a good ear. I am actually from Denmark. But I travel a lot so my accent is not very strong.”
“And what brings you to London?” asked Pia. He seemed like a nice guy but for some reason, she felt that he was hiding something.
“Well, I have a few business contacts to meet. Also, it’s my favorite city in the world. You never know who you might bump into.”
“Very true,” said Pia wryly, thinking of all the weirdoes who kept bumping into her. Al least Andrew seemed like a nice, normal guy. “And what did you say your business was?” She was determined to get to the bottom of this.
“You know, all sorts of things,” replied Andrew easily. “I deal in commodities mostly.”
Pia may not have been a working journalist at that moment, but she had the instincts of an investigative reporter. Commodities, eh? That was a pretty broad category, she thought. But a bar was hardly the place to go into details and Andrew seemed harmless enough. Not to mention, drop dead gorgeous. He bought her more drinks and they chatted more and Pia realized that he was a very charming and intelligent man. One had as much chance of meeting a unicorn in a city like London. The time flew as they talked about their travels.
Suddenly, Pia realized that it was close to one. “Look at the time,” she said. “I have to go.”
“Really?” Andrew seemed genuinely disappointed.
“Yes, I have a busy day tomorrow.” It was true. She had an important interview lined up.
“Well, can I have your number?”
Pia thought about it. She had made it a rule not to give her number to the men she met at the bar, but Andrew was definitely one of the nicest men she had met. Not to mention, one of the most gorgeous. After fending off the advances of all these strange men, it would be nice to go out with a normal man for a change. And Andrew, for all his good looks, seemed as normal as they come.
So she gave him her number. And she was a bit disappointed that he didn’t give her a kiss goodnight. Ah, well, maybe our next date, she thought as she said goodbye and headed home.
It was a typically chilly London night. Her flat was a short distance away and she quickened her pace as she walked there, wrapping her scarf around her. She knew it was hardly safe for her to be out alone at this hour and she glanced around to check if anyone was coming behind her. But she made it to her door unscathed and let herself in with a small sigh of relief.
She was wondering what she was going to wear for the interview the next day when she felt a knife at her throat and realized that she had let her guard down a little too soon.
“Well, well, look what we have here, Charlie,” said the man holding the knife. Pia couldn’t see him as he was standing directly behind her, but she saw the man he was speaking to – a small, weasel-like man with sharp, darting eyes. Charlie was looking at her with unmitigated glee.
“I thought this night was going to be a bust, Art, seeing as how little of value there is here. But it looks as if the grand prize walked right into our midst.”
“A fine filly for sure, Charlie,” said the other man. “We can have some right royal fun with her.” He reached down and gave her breast a hard, painful squeeze.
Pia trembled with anger. But up to now there was little she could do – she could feel the knife’s cold blade against her throat. But in Art’s excitement, he moved the knife away a little and it was all the room she needed. Pia ducked, while stomping on his foot as hard as she could. Turning, she kneed Art in the crotch with all her strength. He shrieked in pain and sank to his knees.
But Charlie was already upon her, throwing an arm around her neck. “A bit of spirit,” he crowed. “We are going to enjoy this one.”
“I’ll give you a bit of spirit, you fucking asshole,” said Pia through gritted teeth. She elbowed him viciously in his face and Charlie staggered back. She kicked him hard in the shin before punching him in the chest. Charlie took a few steps back, but didn’t seem unduly fazed by the blows. Blood tricked from his cut lip. He took a bit onto his finger, licked it with his tongue and looked at her suggestively.
Pia was unsettled. She had hoped that her self-defense would be more effective. Before she could decide on her next plan, someone shoved her violently onto the floor. It was Art and judging by the hate and anger on his face, he wasn’t regarding her actions with the equanimity that Charlie was.
“You fuckin’ cunt!” Art spat. “I’m going to gut you, nice and slow.” He lunged forward, but Charlie quickly stopped him.
‘Are you mad?” Charlie said. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We have to kill her. She’s seen our faces.”
“Oh, we’ll kill her all right.” Charlie regarded her with a wide grin. “But we are going to have a little fun with her first.”
Art gave a low laugh. “That’s what I like about you, Charlie. You’re always thinking ahead.” He looked at her. ‘Who’s going first?”
“Well, I am, of course,” said Charlie. He reached down and unzipped his trousers. Pia swallowed hard. She wasn’t strong enough to resist two men but she would rather die than allow them to rape her. She had never felt this angry and helpless before.
But suddenly there was someone else in the room. Charlie was just taking his dick out of his pants when he was hit and went flying through the air. In the semi-darkness, it was hard to make out who it was, but it was clearly a person who was very big and very strong. And very fast, judging by the speed at which he dodged Art’s enraged lunge with the knife and hit him on the side of the head, sending him crashing to the floor.
Both men rose to their feet and stared balefully at the stranger in their midst. Art circled to his front while Charlie sidled to his back. Both rushed at the same time, Art swinging with his knife, Charlie brandishing a blade that he had pulled from his trousers. With the agility of a cat, the stranger moved to one side. His swift blow caught Art on the midriff, sending him crashing to the side.
Charlie closed in, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Unlike Art’s wild swings, he made a calculated thrust at the stranger, trying to catch him in the throat. The man jumped back, but the knife missed him by an inch. But in the same movement, he caught Charlie’s outstretched arm and twisted it. Charlie shrieked in pain as his elbow snapped in with a sickening noise. He collapsed to the floor, howling.
Art had been watching all this with increasing alarm. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he rushed for the door, but the dark figure was too quick for him. Before he knew it, the stranger was by his side. Art was a heavy, fat man, but he was picked up and thrown against the wall with ease. There was a crack as his shoulder broke and Charlie slumped unconscious to the floor.
The dark figure rushed to Pia. “Are you all right?” At last she could make out who it was. Looking at her with great concern on his face was Andrew. Pia felt confusion and relief in equal measure. How on earth had he managed to get in to the apartment? But as she sagged in to his arms, she was, most of all, grateful to be alive.