Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall

Nothing makes sense to me anymore. I feel like I can’t trust anyone at the moment as I sit on the sofa in the living room while Zayn waits to be sent some video footage that will apparently prove killing Deacon was justified, yet death is never the answer. There would have been other options, but I just can’t picture Deacon ever doing that to me. It makes me question everything more. I have known Deacon for years and Zayn for three months, yet he expects me to believe Deacon is capable of something so vile

I’m torn between the Deacon I know and the watching of the supposed evidence Zayn says he has. It’s difficult to trust my instincts when my emotions are clouded by doubt and confusion. I

never thought I would find myself in such a predicament, questioning the character of someone I thought I knew so well. It has me questioning Zayn and his intentions, why would he keep this secret and help me search for my boyfriend, only to then say this?

Zayn”s phone rings loudly and he starts downloading the supposed footage

“Ts that it?” I ask as he stares down at his phone

He clenches his jaw, watching whatever it is. I stand up and he curses under his breath. “What is it?” Task. Zayn looks up at me, his face a mask of emotion. He quickly shuts his phone screen off, looking angrier

The air is heavy with tension as Zayn paces in front of me, desperation evident in every movement. His silver eyes lock onto mine, pleading for understanding. “Cleo, please, just

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listen to me,” he begs

“Show me, you said you have proof!” I tell him, and he looks like he is about to toss his phone, his anger growing by the second. “T have it, but please, baby, you need to believe me, the footage-” I hold my hand out for his phone, ignoring his words; he said he has proof, and I want to see it

My heart hammers in my chest, betrayal gnawing at me like an insistent beast. I cross my arms defensively and glare at him. “And why should I? You have lied to me from the start

Now give me the phone, Zayn, or I am leaving.” I snap at him. He takes a step back, his face a mask of confusion. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and then speak again

“What have you got to hide? Just show me.”

“Because I love you, and this isn’t helping!” he

exclaims, his voice cracking. He reaches out to touch my arm, but I yank it away, unable to stand even the slightest contact with him right now

“Love? Is that what you call this?” I scoff, feeling my vision blur with unshed tears

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“You’ve done nothing but lie to me, Zayn! And for what?”

He clenches his fists, the muscles in his tattooed arms and chest trembling with barely contained emotion. “I did it to protect you. I swear, Cleo, everything I’ve done has been for you.” “But how can I trust that, Zayn? This whole situation has left me questioning everything, including your love for me. I need more than just words to believe you now.”

“I was trying to protect you!”

“Protect me? By keeping secrets and manipulating me?” I shake my head, anger and hurt swirling together into a maelstrom of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me. “How can I trust anything you say anymore? You helped me look for my boyfriend, knowing he was dead. Do you understand how sick that is? How fucking callous and cold!”

“Please, just give me a chance to explain.” Zayn’s voice is barely above a whisper, the raw vulnerability in his eyes threatening to break through the walls I’m desperately trying to build around my heart. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”

“Anything?” My voice wavers as I look into those silver eyes, searching for any hint of deception. But all I see is pain and longing the same feelings that are tearing me apart inside

“Anything,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion

“Then give me that damn phone,” I demand, my own voice trembling

Zayn’s tense form paces in front of me, agitation rolling off him in waves. He holds his phone tightly. The video footage paused on the screen, displaying Deacon leading me to his car. “Just watch it,” Zayn insists, silver eyes pleading, desperation etched onto his handsome face

He passes me the phone and I peer at the screen that is paused still. Gathering my courage and with a deep breath, I press play, knowing I am about to witness my ex’s death. Tears roll down my cheeks as I watch the footage, knowing this is the last moment I spent with him, according to Zayn

The footage rolls, capturing the tense scene as Deacon guides me towards his car. Yet I have no memory of this, and it is clear that I am blind drunk. Nothing appears overtly suspicious; I lean against him as he unlocks the vehicle, and I start sliding along the car side before Deacon catches me. Deacon appears to be laughing as he opens the back of his car and sets me on the tailgate. I can’t see anything going on because of the tinted windows, but Deacon doesn’t appear to be doing anything sinister from the angle. Not that I can see much since there are so many cars in the parking lot

Zayn suddenly comes into the picture and moves toward Deacon, who even seems carefree as he addresses Zayn, laughing

The poor quality of the video and the lack of sound make it difficult to discern the motive behind this attack. This chaotic scene leaves me questioning the reliability of Zayn’s claims

Zayn and Deacon say a few words, but nothing in Deacon’s behavior suggests he is doing anything wrong; he even motions towards me in the car and laughs. Zayn nods, scratches his chin, and then turns into a savage