Chapter 3
1689 Words
2 weeks later
Tap, Tap, Tap.
I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in before he moves it around, looking in the back. I put my hand up when the light flashes across my face, blinding me. He quickly moves it to the side.
“Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle-aged man tells me; he must be city security, judging by his uniform. My son—who I decided to name Valarian—stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his flashlight away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops.
“Look, I've noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station.” He sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him.
“You really have no place to go? No family?” he asks.
“No, the council kicked me out of the park,” I say matter-of-factly.
He runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot.
“The baby’s father?”
I shake my head, knowing that isn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me about the pregnancy—refused to see me even when I begged him to let me show him the ultrasound pictures. Every time I tried to call after that, he hung up the moment he heard my voice. After a while, I gave up.
“You know there are people out there that would take him—then you could probably go home.”
“I am not abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him, outraged he would even suggest it.
“This is no life for a child. You’re young, if you give him up you could have a normal life. Something to think about. I will give you another week to find somewhere else. After that, you need to move on,” he says, and I nod before winding the window up.
I watch him leave before settling my little baby and putting him back to bed in the fruit box beside me—I have always been paranoid about accidentally rolling on him while asleep. Tugging the blanket up over both of us, I try to get comfortable. A single tear runs down my cheek as I think of his words. “This is no life for a child.” Am I being selfish?
Yet, the thought of giving him up breaks my heart. He is mine. I loved him and would give my life for my little man. Isn’t that enough? I can’t deny the bond between us.
***
Waking up the following day, I groan; it is pouring with rain. It's still early. I rummage through the back for my umbrella before slipping my shoes on. Making sure Valarian is bundled nice and warm, I grab my empty bucket in one hand and pop the umbrella up as I open the hatchback.
Sliding the bucket to the crook of my elbow, I raise the umbrella with the same hand. I then pick up my son in my free arm and make a run for it to the train station bathrooms, paying extra care not to slip on the wet ground. That would be disastrous. Once I get into the large, handicapped stall, I shove the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hate about being homeless is holding my son while going to the bathroom. I can’t place him down anywhere, making it hard to use the toilet while making sure not to drop him. When I finish, I slide my pants up with one hand, which is difficult while holding my son, then awkwardly wash my hand before turning the faucet off.
Now the tricky part—holding an umbrella, a newborn, and a now-full bucket of water. Somehow, I manage it and make it back to the car before placing the bucket down and quickly opening the hatchback to my wagon. I crawl in and set my son in his bed before hauling my tiny bucket in. Lathering my washcloth with soap, I give him a wash down before dressing him in a clean diaper and clothes so he's all nice and fresh for the day.
Using the remaining water, I also give myself a wash, longing for a shower. Gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I use the rest stop ones occasionally, but right now, I have no fuel to get there and can’t risk spending my limited funds.
When mom and dad kicked me out, I had a small amount of savings. I also worked at the Chinese restaurant on the main street while pregnant to keep saving. The savings didn’t last long with buying baby clothes and non-perishable food, though. And now that he's born, I've been spending money on diapers. Not to mention, since my milk dried up from stress and lack of nutrition before I left the hospital, I am forced to stock up on formula and bottled water too. My car looks like a mini supermarket, but I am starting to get low on the formula again. Rummaging through my wallet, I find my last $100. I need to think of something fast. This won’t see us through much longer.
Sighing, I lean back on my door, watching the rain. The restaurant won’t take me back—I tried that—and my parents obviously aren’t an option. His father wouldn’t even let me on pack territory when I requested to see him.
I still remember when I got his number to call him that first time; what a nightmare that was. He laughed and said there was no way he would sleep with a seventeen-year-old. To be fair, I was not supposed to be in that part of the club at the hotel. My sister and I wanted to meet the older Alphas, not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty. So with fake IDs, we snuck in while the meeting was going on in the conference hall. Alpha Valen was just as drunk as I was, so it's no wonder he can’t remember me. I barely remember anything. What I do remember is how I felt that night—the pull to him for some reason—and he must have felt it too. I know I didn’t imagine it.
Shaking the vague memory away, I grab a granola bar and start eating. My belly is rumbling. Oh, what I would do for a home-cooked meal. I love mom’s cooking. She's the best cook!
A tear slips down my cheek and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My father had it disconnected, but I like to look at the photos of when I was still part of the family. I miss my little sister—I wish I could see her, even just once more.
I spend most of the day just trying to figure out what I can do about money. The security guard’s words eat at me. “This is no life for a child.”
I am failing.
I need help and don’t know who to ask. When it starts to get dark, the five o’clock train pulls in. I try to light my candle so I can see in the growing darkness, but my lighter has finally run out of fuel. Popping the trunk to get out, I grab my umbrella and glance around, hoping to find someone smoking—someone approachable—to ask to borrow one.
“Excuse me, do you have a…”
The man in his tailored suit walks past, looking down at me. I try over and over again, ignored by everyone that passes. Feeling disheartened, I'm about to hop back in the car when I see a younger man in a neat suit.
I've seen him a few times. He catches the early train and is always home on the five o’clock train. He's always dressed nicely in suits that compliment his blond hair and green eyes, and his muscular build puts him a good foot taller than me.
He stares at me warily as I approach and I stop when I feel his aura—he has Beta blood. He looks familiar for some reason and I finally place him; he is one of the Betas from the Alpha meet up. He's Beta to Alpha Valen. I pretend I don’t recognize him because he definitely doesn’t remember me, and I know he can’t feel my aura. I've been rogue for so long now, my aura is almost nonexistent. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t shifted. I want to, need to, but what do I do with my son?
“Can I borrow a lighter if you have one?” I blurt out quickly before he waves me away; everyone usually assumes I'm asking for money. He stops, staring at me for a second.
“Fine,” he says, rustling inside his pocket before handing me a green lighter. I run back to the car and light the candle that sits on a plate in my vehicle. Only, when I turn around, I find him behind me, having followed me the few yards back to my car.
I jump, not expecting him to be so close. “Thank you,” I tell him, passing it back. He nods, then begins to leave, walking around the side of my car just as my son cries out.
“Shh, shh, I’m coming,” I whisper, pulling the hatchback down until something stops it. I turn to see what it caught on, only for it to be pulled open by the Beta.
“Is that a baby you have in there?” he asks, and my heart thunders in my chest nervously.
Will he call child services on me?
- Writer
