Happily Ever Alpha: Until Mallory (Kindle Worlds Novella)
Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Aurora Rose Reynolds. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Happily Ever Alpha remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Aurora Rose Reynolds, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Until Mallory
Ella Fox
Letter from Aurora Rose Reynolds
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the Happily Ever Alpha Kindle World.
I personally chose each author participating in the Happily Ever Alpha Kindle World because I love their books, and the way they tell a story. That said, this book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it, and I didn’t have any part in the process of writing the story.
Enjoy the BOOM!
xoxo
Aurora Rose Reynolds
Happily Ever Alpha Kindle World
Happily Ever Alpha Kindle Worlds is based on the bestselling Until Series by Aurora Rose Reynolds. Every single author included in the world has been hand-picked by Ms. Reynolds.
Some of the authors have chosen to write about characters or couples that you have met in the series while others have just referred to a place or person from one of the Until books.
Every book is a stand-alone, there is no reading order.
Until You're Mine by Jenika Snow
Until More by S. Van Horne
Until Nox by Layla Frost
Until We Meet Again by K.D. Robichaux
Until Avery by Brynne Asher
Until Arsen by K.L. Donn
Until Leo by Rochelle Paige
Until The Summer by Elle Jefferson
Until You by Samantha Lind
Until Sunrise by Sarah O'Rourke
Until Brandon by Natasha Madison
Until Kayla by CC Monroe
Until I Saw You by Jordan Marie
Until Mallory by Ella Fox
Until Susan by C.P. Smith
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Ella Fox
Chapter 1
Mallory
I let out a sound of frustration as I finish loading yellowed sheets into a
washer that’s further on in years than I am. The old but serviceable basement apartment I found on Temp Rent seemed so promising online. Newsflash: in person, it is a nightmare. Although the dated furniture is the same as what I saw in the photos, the ad failed to mention that when I got here the entire place would reek of a mixture of cigarette smoke and cheap floral air freshener that makes me want to gag.
The bedding was neither clean nor fresh (hence why I’m doing laundry) and the kitchen is stocked with cheap paper plates, plastic utensils, and red plastic cups you’d normally see at a keg party. Yay for me, I finally know what it would’ve been like to live in a frat house—and it’s just as gross and crusty as I always imagined. If my grandmother is seeing this up in heaven, she’s rolling over in her grave.
I knew I was in for it when my ride pulled up out front and I got a good look at the junkyard on the lawn. That hadn’t been mentioned in the ad. The other thing not mentioned was the lack of cable or internet that’s got me confined to my cellphone. With the limited data plan I have it won’t be long before I blow right through it, which means I’ll be racking up another bill. I’m hoping the nearest coffee shop will have free WiFi but even that isn’t a huge plus since I’ll have to buy coffee to be there, which means I’ll still be spending money I never planned on. Every little bit adds up.
If only it were possible to turn back time to the moment before I clicked confirm on this apartment. Spending the money on this place was a huge mistake but there’s no getting it back and that leaves me screwed with a capital S since I paid upfront for one month. After my brief chat with Mario, the super greasy owner of the house, I know he’s never going to offer a refund. He seems miffed that I’m not “feeling” the apartment.
The bottom line here is that I’m not made of money and since for all intents and purposes I don’t know anyone in the area—well, there’s one person, but I’ll need to apply myself to ‘running into’ him in a way that doesn’t make me seem like a stalker—so I’m stuck in this pit. The only thing I have going for me in this apartment right now are the locks and the heavy duty-chain on the basement door. I’ll still be shoving things in front of the door for extra safety before I fall asleep tonight.
Heading back into the bedroom, I take out my cellphone and navigate to the online classifieds. I can’t afford to let being stuck in a gross apartment get me off course, which means I need to get my butt in gear. My number one priority is finding a job and I intend to devote time to that every single day until I am gainfully employed. Once I have that in place, I’ll be able to get a real apartment. Although my savings are limited, I have just enough to get myself set up in a small, inexpensive apartment—as long as I have a job to pay the bills once my savings account is depleted.
I hum along to the song playing on my phone as I scroll through job listings and make notes in my super adorable hot pink notebook. I write down contact information for a bakery, two bars, three restaurants, two daycare centers, a flower shop, and a big box store. I know the waitressing jobs are probably my best bet since I have been working in a restaurant for the last five months, but I’m tired of food service. Although I loved the camaraderie amongst the staff, for me the issue was that customers seem to be getting ruder by the day. The amount of times I’ve been stiffed on a tip is a-freaking-lot. So many times, I’ve busted my butt to be accommodating and fast—only to get a three dollar tip on a forty dollar ticket.
By the time I’m finished making job notes my stomach is growling. Looking at the clock I see that it’s just after one in the afternoon, which means I’m due for lunch. Heading into the kitchen area of the basement apartment I pull out a packet of chicken flavored ramen. Tossing the noodles and flavor packet into an ancient looking wheat-colored plastic container, I add water and then put it into the microwave for five minutes. With that cooking, I get a small frying pan out before I open the fridge and take out an egg from the dozen I bought at the market on the way here. With the ramen noodles and the egg, I’m covering all my bases. Carbs for energy, broth water to fill me up, and an egg for protein. I’ve achieved expert status in the dinner for a dollar way of life. I spent ten dollars at the store this morning and I’ll definitely get through three or four days with the eggs, ramen, dry mashed potatoes and milk I got.
Once my food is ready, I take a seat on the less wobbly of the two stools at the counter and dig in. Needing something to fill the silence I pick up my phone, put in my headphones and turn up the volume on the country music station. I’ve finished my egg and about halfway done my ramen when I feel a rumbling. Taking the headphones from my ears, I realize the rumbling is coming from the thunderous sound of banging and many, many footsteps above me. My heart starts beating faster as my stomach clenches. Unless Mario is holding an exercise class up there something dramatic is going on, and by that I mean something not good.
Hearing pounding footsteps on the stairs outside my door I spring into action. Jumping up from the wobbly stool I look around fo
r something—anything—to protect myself. The pan I used to cook my egg catches my eye, so I run around the counter into the kitchen and grab it from the sink. As I’m getting a good grip on it, the handle on the basement door starts to jiggle.
“Open the door,” a no-nonsense voice yells.
“Go away!” I squeak.
With the small frying pan in my left hand, I scramble across the counter and grab my cellphone. My fingers are trembling and my eyes have started to water as I begin to dial 911. I’ve got the 9 and one 1 entered in when the door smashes open. Screaming I jump like a frightened cat, dropping the pan as I sprint for the bedroom as I pray to God that someone will save me from being kidnapped or worse.
“Police! Stop running, put your hands up and turn around,” a voice behind me barks.
If I hadn’t used the bathroom before starting dinner, I’d be peeing my pants right now.
There’s a familiarity to the authoritative voice that I’m too wound up to grasp as I stop dead in my tracks and follow the commands. My phone clatters to the floor as I raise my hands in the air and turn around. When I realize there are three men with their guns drawn and pointed at me, all the blood rushes from my head and my knees start to buckle.
My vision starts to gray out around the edges and I know I’m going to faint. I lock my knees in the hopes of staying up as the officer in front lifts up the shield on his headgear that covers his eyes. Holy smokes—it’s John Wright! The very person I came to Nashville to find. The only man I’ve ever had any interest in is less than twenty feet from me. I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing here but I don’t get a word out since I’m busy crumpling to the floor.
Chapter 2
John
I’m paralyzed for a few seconds when I realize the girl with her hands up is Mallory McDonald. As quickly as my impromptu gaping session starts it’s over because I realize that she’s going down. Racing across the room at high speed, I’m damn lucky to reach her before she hits the horribly stained carpet. She weighs next to goddamn nothing in my arms and I find myself annoyed that she’s lost weight in the last six months. She didn’t need to lose an ounce—Mallory has always been perfect. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her over to the shabby sofa and lay her down.
Hitting the button on the walkie-talkie on my shoulder I bark, “I need an EMT ready to come down in the basement on my order. I’ve got a fainter.”
Once I finish speaking I look back over my shoulder at Nico and Leo. “Need you to hurry up and clear this so I can take care of her.”
They nod their heads in tandem as they come further into the basement apartment and begin conducting the sweep. I want to stay facing Mallory on the couch but protocol in a breach situation is specific. I need to stay sharp and keep my eyes on the room at large. Failing to do so could turn a bad situation worse and I owe it to Nico and Leo to stay frosty. Fortunately, the place is small as hell so it doesn’t take long for them to scout the entire place.
“Clear,” Nico declares as he steps back into the living area. “We found suitcases and signs of travel in the room—don’t think she’s been here long.”
“Anything weird in her stuff?” I ask, already knowing the answer will be no. Mallory is the sweetest woman alive. She wouldn’t get involved with trash.
“It’s all clothes and toiletries and shit. No drugs or money.”
I nod, not at all surprised, before I press the button on my walkie again. “We’re ready for the EMT but for fuck’s sake send in Barbra and not fuckin’ Curtis,” I order. Even the idea of Curtis getting a look at Mallory is not okay with me. That douchebag hasn’t ever come across a pair of thighs he doesn’t want to get between. Normally I ignore his over-the-top bullshit but I know if he so much as says one flirty word to Mallory, I’ll probably put him through a wall. She’s off-limits, period.
Crouching down in front of the couch, I stare at the beautiful woman I haven’t seen in just over six months. Mallory was always gorgeous but I swear she’s even more stunning than ever. She and her grandma Ruby were my downstairs neighbors for two years back when I lived in Chattanooga. I wanted Mallory—badly—and had even swallowed my pride—seven separate times—to ask her grandmother for permission to take her on a date. I was rejected out of hand each time, which wasn’t really a surprise since her grandmother was easily the strictest person I’ve ever met in my life.
Mallory had never been permitted to date—something I thought was fucking nuts considering she’d been twenty years old the first time I’d gone to her grandmother seeking permission. As crazy as it was it didn’t matter what anyone else thought since Ruby’s rules were all but carved in stone and Mallory was a good girl who adhered to them. I’d never been allowed to spend any time alone with her and it fucking sucked.
Ruby was firm on the fact that Mallory would meet her future husband in church or not at all. I’d wanted Mallory enough to consider changing churches but in the end I knew it wouldn’t matter because in Ruby’s eyes I was a heathen after she’d done some digging and found out that I’d had a girl living in my apartment for six whole weeks the summer after I started police academy. That was enough to put a black mark next to my name.
“You got the milk for free,” Ruby said with an imperious huff. “The poor girl you lived with is probably washed up and living a life of sin thanks to your debauchery.”
The “poor girl” in question had cheated on me with the mayor’s son—who she’d since gone on to marry in a lavish country club ceremony. On the whole, I figured her life had shaken out pretty well. Unfortunately, Ruby did not see it that way. After two years of trying, I couldn’t take the torture of being so close and yet so far from the only girl I’ve ever really wanted, so I applied to the Nashville PD and moved. I hoped time and distance would make me want her less but that shit hasn’t worked at all. Lately I’ve even been considering transferring back to Chattanooga just to be near her, and that’s jacked because I feel more at home in Nashville than I ever did in Chattanooga.
Staring at Mallory, I feel something inside of me shift. I’m not a guy who believes in fairytales but straight up, her rosy lips are giving off one hell of a sleeping princess vibe. Even passed out, she’s undeniably beautiful with her long blonde perfectly curled hair. On top of all that she smells like strawberry bubblegum and I’m desperate for a taste of that sweetness. Further inspection shows that her porcelain skin is as perfect as ever, not a blemish in sight. Setting my fingers against her wrist, I check her pulse and breathe a sigh of relief when I feel that it is steady. Looking down at her dainty hand, I notice her perfectly shaped fingernails are painted a bright glittery pink. Miss Ruby had not allowed color of any kind. I’m surprised but also fuckin’ relieved to see that Mallory is rebelling. Maybe, I think, just maybe, Ruby is no longer in control. I’m closer to the girl I’ve pined for than I’ve ever been, and I know without a doubt there’s no fuckin’ chance I’ll be able to walk away again.
As I take in what Mallory has on, I smile. She’s wearing a white tee with the word love written across the chest in pastel glitter and I’m seeing a lot more of the supple and soft looking skin on her legs than I ever have because she’s wearing cotton-candy colored shorts and a pair of aqua-colored ankle socks with little pink and white unicorns on them. On anyone else, I’d probably think this shit was ridiculous but on Mallory, it’s cute as fuckin’ hell, especially since Ruby only ever allowed her to wear tan, white, navy, or baby blue—absolutely no patterns or flowers or anything like that. Mallory’s personality has always been bright like sunshine and now her style matches what has been inside the whole time.
“The EMT is coming down now,” Leo announces.
I jerk out of my reverie and glance over my shoulder to find him and Nico studying me with great interest. The downside of becoming such good friends with my co-workers is that they’re cops. This means they’re both observant as fuck and they miss nothing. Not wanting to get into it, I turn back around and look back to Mallory.
<
br /> A few seconds pass in silence before Nico speaks. “You good here if we go upstairs?”
I nod but don’t look away from my sweet girl. “Yeah. I gotta find out what she’s doing here as soon as she’s awake.”
“You going to back off,” Barbra jokes as she steps beside me, “or will I need to climb into your lap to check her over? Cause I gotta tell you, even though my husband would not be happy, I think it’d be worth it.”
I give her a wry look as I stand up and move back to allow her access. After taking my headgear off and setting it down on the table I watch in silence as she checks my sleeping beauty over.
“Hon,” Barbra says in a no-nonsense voice as she waves ammonium carbonate under the girl’s nose, “it’s time to wake up.”
Mallory whimpers and wrinkles her nose as she turns away from the smell. After taking a few deep breaths she turns back toward Barbra and blinks in confusion. “Did I faint?”
Jesus, her voice is still so fuckin’ sweet. As usual hearing it has awakened all of my senses.
“You sure did,” Barbra says with a nod, “but you’re fine now. How about you sit up slowly so you can take a sip of this juice box I brought down for you. Sugar will help stabilize you.”
Mallory nods, sits up and accepts the cherry-flavored juice. After a few sips she pushes her hair back from her face and leans forward to set the juicebox down on the rickety as fuck parsons coffee table in front of the sofa. As she does this, she looks beyond Barbra and sees me.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “John.” When her face lights up in a smile I feel like my heart is being squeezed. Fuck me, that smile could bring me to my knees.