Chapter Two

She raced back to the changing room and packed her bag and headed home immediately, all the while still agitated by Ambrose's demand.

On reaching the front of the almost dilapidated building where her shabby apartment was stationed, she stood looking at it, taking a steady breath to calm herself before going in. This is the only time she often felt at ease after her performance every day. Every pain melts away to be replaced by the warm thought of only one person...

Her son.

The thought of him running to her when she got home, the way he told her he missed her and watching him sleep, made up for her fucked up life and gave her hope for the future. It wasn't supposed to be like this, yet, this is what life thought she deserved.

Stabilizing her emotions, she covered the distance that led to the creaky boards that made up for stairs that would take her to the floor of her apartment.

She wasn't always a stripper. She used to be the happy child of Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth, one of the influential families in the human territory from another town far away from here. Things were beautiful and she was the apple of her parent's eyes.

Then one night, a creature that her mind was too little to decipher, came, and before her eyes as she watched from the door of her parent's room, ripped her parents into shreds like a ragged doll, leaving them nothing but bits and pieces of nothing.

While the beast's hunky frame was still backing her, the only voice she recollected at that moment was her mother who would often say, "If anything ever happens to me, run without looking back and save yourself!" and that was what she did.

She ran, all the while thinking about what her family did to deserve such a cruel fate.

She ran, tears pouring, heart slamming, body quivering, having no one to run to. She knew of no relatives as her family seem to be isolated for reasons she couldn't fathom as she was still a babe_She was just nine years old.

And from that day, she entered the street and started doing everything possible to survive, until that very day at fourteen when she stole from an angry merchant and he sent mobs after her. She thought she was going to die as she ran down a lonely alleyway. But, mysteriously, Ambrose arrived and saved her. He took her from one life of suffering and penury to yet another one.

He turned her into a stripper at his club.

At fifteen, he sent her off to the werewolf Kingdom during an Alpha’s son's birthday party to strip and that night, she was raped by a werewolf that left her for dead. Life became unbearable and even more so when two weeks later, she found out she was with a child.

"Mama?" His cheery voice came from within the door as she knocked, delighting her heart.

"It's me, Nicky," She mouthed, too tired from today's hassles but excited to hear his voice.

The door flung open and as usual, he flung his tiny limbs around her neck, burying his bouncy blond curls in her neck. She inhaled his essence with her eyes shut and rose with him in her arms to walk into their room.

Shutting the door, she took him in, becoming alarmed at how quiet he seemed today. "What's wrong, Nicky?" She asked wearily, lowering him gently to squat before him and take his cheeks in her palms and look into his sharp hazel eyes.

"The Landlord came and threatened to throw our stuff outside if we don't pay up the rent fast." He expressed, in despair. She closed her eyes and stood up, took his hand, and led him to the bed to sit down.

"I will handle it, I promise."

"I'm sorry I'm letting you do all the work, ma." She smiled sadly, warmed by his words.

"I am supposed to take care of you, Nicky." She brushed her fingers through his thick manes and ambled to the makeshift kitchen by the side of the room where she scraped the food remnant from this morning into a plate and brought to him. She had eaten a few crumbs back at the club and would make do with that for the night. That was how things worked here. Life is hard.

He took it and mumbled his thanks.

She sat opposite him on the floor, her knees raised to her chin. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as wished she could do more to save them from this wretched life. They can't continue like this. She worked her ass out for Ambrose but all he gave her was crumbs. Using her for his own profit and caring little about her well-being. I wasn't just her, even with the other girls at the brothel.

"You will be fine, Nicky, I promise," She mumbled to herself as a single tear fell down her face.

That night before they slept, she already made up her mind and knew who she was going to take him to. If she doesn't make it back alive, she was sure he would be taken care of more than she could have ever done for him. Maybe, it's for the best.

*******

"Are you sure you know what you are doing, Eleanor?" Her neighbor asked her the next day, taking the boy from her and leading them inside her apartment.

Eleanor smiled ruefully knowing nothing she said would convince her neighbor otherwise. Mrs. Goldberg might as well be her angel in disguise in this life. She took her as a daughter and helped her most times to look after her son while she was working. Though she never supported her trade and would often say...

"You know you can always stop living like this, child."

Eleanor knows she could, yet, that would mean giving herself to Ambrose for free to murder her. He never fails to remind her that if she shows any form of rebellion he will kill her.

"I will come back early, Mrs. Goldberg," She said half-heartedly, entwining her fingers in front of her, not wanting to look at the older woman so she wouldn't see her fears. "It's just for a few days."

The woman nodded once and led the teary-eyed Nicky inside the house. "Mama, are you going to be alright?" He looked back while being strung away with tears in his eyes and his mother nodded rapidly, knowing there was nothing she could do.

"I will, my son," She rasped, gave Mrs. Goldberg one last glance, and hurried away from the apartment lest she broke down in front of her son. She went back to her apartment, fell behind the closed door, and wept into her knees to muffle the sound.

She hated her life, everything that made up the girl called Eleanor Macbeth. It sucked! Her life was a mess and there was no one there to rescue this little girl buried in the body of a woman. She was just nineteen but she has known the suffering of an old woman.

"Curse you, dark monsters! You did this to me!" She hit her lap continuously until she felt the pain and saw her thighs go red. Then recalling she had to look flawless during her performance, she stopped and sagged her shoulders in grief, quietly sniffing.

She sat that way staring into space for a long time that by the time she decided to go and prepare, it was already getting late and she was worn out by hunger.

She hastily gathered her stuff into her black satchel and made her way out of the room, paying no heed to her appearance. The only effort she made was to run her fingers through her hair to smoothen it.

On getting to the brothel, she was panting as she was already late and knew if Ambrose finds out, she would be toast. She passed through the backdoor to avoid being seen, and once she reached the stairs and ran up, she nearly bumped into Ambrose who was seething as he stood with his back to her in front of her door.

He twisted about at feeling her presence and without a word or question, the back of his right palm connected with her left cheek, knocking her to the ground. "I told you to be here on time, you insolent wench! Have you lost your marbles?"

"I beg your pardon!" She cried, nursing her stinging cheeks.

"Get your behind up and run along, they are already outside!" He whetted his forefinger at her lethally.

She did exactly that, stood and ran off, still holding her cheeks which ached awfully. On getting downstairs, she pushed through the crowd and reached outside where a black tinted SUV was parked and a burly man wearing a clean three-piece black suit was standing with his hands braided in front of him and a black shade concealing his eyes.

"Hy," She waved nervously. "I am_"

It happened fast.

One minute he was standing beside the car, and in a flash, he was next to her, seized her, and before she would comprehend what was going on, he touched her temple and muttered a word and as if she was drugged with chloroform, her vision stuttered and everything went blank.

…