The Stripper Woman

Alexa pov

What the actual fuck?

The rumbling of Jem's truck grows quieter as we reach the suckenly rich part of the city. As we slow down I watch the giant houses with green gardens roll past. Wondering what the hell we're doing here, because they can't actually live in one of these houses. I scowl at the world. We come to a stop outside of a gate. Behind it sits a beautiful white house. It takes me a moment to realize which house this is and why it seems so familiar. Stipping, we wait as a wolf sitting in a little box houses exchanges a few words with Ryder before pressing a couple of buttons to let us in. The gate slides open and we roll inside.

My heart beats out of rythym as my gaze falls on the entire house. Big black double doors sit above a small half-moon staircase that leads to the front door. Jem, veers the car to the right and a black garage door opens. A narrow road tilts down and leads us underground to a massive garage. Multiple cars and bikes, all expensive as hell, is lined up facing the wall in a neat extremely expensive row.

The engine turns off and Jem hops out pulling my door open with a flourish.

"My lady," he drawls and bows at the waist.

Tentatively I scoot to the edge of the jeeps seat peering out. Ryders jacket is still around my middle I climb out of the jeep and walk along the line of vehicles looking at them all with wide disbelieving eyes.

They're rich. The four boys who used to steal croissants from the small bakery down by the beach for me are fucking rich. My mind can't really wrap itself around them here. I always imagine. It's the same house. The one I wanted to buy and renovate. They bought it. Renovated. Live in it.

Without me.

They took my dream and made it their own.

A fist wraps itself around the organ slamming against my chest protecting it from any further harm.

Four pairs of eyes watch me closely as I move closer to a door at the end of the line. The air is thick with tension and when Jem slips past me to hold the door open, he looks almost nervous. Silently, I move through the basement. Noting the gym on the right and a closed door to the left of a staircase that leads up into the house.

Jem walks ahead of me. He swiftly enters a code on the keypad which blips and opens the door. Jems tall lithe frame blocked my view of the pad keeping me from seeing what numbers he pushed. Mentally cataloguing to find the member combination later, I step into a living room.

To my right, there's floor to ceiling windows looking over a dark wooden deck with a pool, bar and grill. The ocean sits beyond it and I can see the cliff peak to the left from here even in the dark.

Inside to my left is the wide expanse of the living room. White couches sit in front of a flat screen TV with a massive speaker system. On the TVs right side is another door that, if this place is built like I imagined it to be, leads to the office/library.

Ahead of me is the dark brown and white kitchen. Isle, barstools and all. Mouth open and body numb I take in everything from the wooden floor to the large photograph hanging on the wall next to the staircase that leads to the second floor. It's a blown-up polaroid picture.

Of me.

Hunter took it years ago with a stolen instant camera. The body twirling in the blue ocean is blurry. Blonde strands block out the young girls face but a hint of a wide smile can be seen. Worn jean shorts and a white flowy long-sleeved top covers her skin. There's a bandage around her left thigh starting at her knee and disappearing behind the storts.

My fingers skim over faint white line beneath the tattoo. It never faded completely, the wound deep enough to scar.

That photo was taken the day I turned thirteen. We'd been celebrating with a picnic on a cliffside on the other side of the city. The beach there is made up of huge rocks and continues onto a cliff smaller than one here.

Hunter challenged the other boys to jump off it. There weren't many stones jutting up the water so they deemed it safe enough. Asking me to guard their stufg they stepped up to the edge gazing down below gauging the distance. Angry at being left out and because I know they thought it was too dangerous for me to jump I rushed past them and threw myself into the air. Freefalling into the waves. The water gripped me tight and slammed me against a rock before I could breach the surface giving me the scar on my left thigh. That photo was taken shortly after.

"What do you think?" Jem questions a bit hesitantly.

Turning I find all four behind me standing shoulder to shoulder creating a wall of muscle and intense gazes. "What the fuck?" I snap glaring at each and every one them.

They look a bit taken aback by my reaction. All except Hunter who's face remains impassive.

"That's-what?" Jem stutters looking from me yo the others confused.

"You stole my house!" I throw my arms out enveloping the space. "What the fuck!" I shout anger rising in me. They live in the house I created for all five of us and they built it for themselves.

"Stole?" Ryder drawls raising a brow at me. "We bought and built it just the way you always wanted to." His voice is steady and slow as if he's explaining something to a child. It makes me want to stomp my feet. Like a child. My muscles bunch as I resist the urge.

"For you!" I point at him accusingly. "You took my house and built it for you!"

Their brows furrow in confusion. Ryder shakes his head at me. "No," he says calmly, "we built it for you." He clarifies pointing his own finger at my forehead. "This house belongs to you just as much as any of us. More even. It's yours. Your home."

"I don't have a home," I mutter under my breath on instinct.

"Yeah, you do." Shade snaps back. "You always have."

My head throbs. I can't wrap my mind around this. They're the ones who had me sent away. They wanted me gone so they could take the treasure and split it four ways instead of five. Yet they built this house that I dreamed of saying it's mine. My home. I drag my fingers through my hair turning my gaze to the floor. Trying to piece this together is giving me a headache.

"Come on," Shade always holds a hand out, "today's been a lot. Go get some rest and well talk more tomorrow." He says noticing the growing ache in my head. Always so attentive and turned in to the people around him.

Shaking my head, I take a step back. "I'm not staying here."

My protest falls on deaf ears. Ryder steps forward stalking after me as I back away. My back meets the wall. Caging me in Ryder swoops his arms low and tosses me over his shoulder again. I don't even fight as he carries me up the stairs and down a hall. Four doors face each other and fifth sits right ahead. Ryder opens that one and carefully sets me down on my feet inside.

A large queen-sized bed stands in front of me. The bedsheets white and at least ten pillows are learning against the dark brown wooden headboard. There's a small nightstand on the left and right side of it in the same wooden color. Lamps and vases with fresh flowers standing on them.

A dark wood peeking out where it ends. The right wall one large window. There's even the window seat decorated with plush pillows that I always wanted. A glass door next to it leads out to a balcony. The wall next to the door we stepped through is a built in dark brown bookshelf.

The wall opposite the window is bare except for the two doors sitting far apart.

Ryder points to the one farthest away. "Closet," he states before moving to the door closest to us. "Bathroom."

My head is spinning as I roll my eyes over the space. It's fully decorated in my favorite colors. The bed made and the flowers blooming in the nightstands. It sits untouched but still cared for. Someone must clean it and keep it from becoming dusty as its6 left unused. It's clear no one lives here but still ready for someone to move in.

It's as if they've been waiting for its owner. For me. My eyes burn and my stomach aches as I stand completely frozen by the threshold.

"Get some sleep." Shade repeats leading me over to the bed when my feet don't move. He tosses the covers back and I climb in.

"Holy fuck. This is the most comfortable bed I have ever lain in. It's soft but not too soft. It's like a big hug. The pillows fluffy beneath my head. Like soft clouds.

Sighing deeply, I sink into the mountain of them. Grabbing one to hug as I sleep precisely like I always do. Turning on my right side I draw my legs up, flip the cover up so it wraps under my feet and tucking a piece of it between my thighs. I don't even notice that my bra and makeup is still on. Mind's too scrambled from the day's events. Forgetting my protests about staying in this house I close my eyes and slip into a deep slumber.

I wake up to the smell of pancakes, coffee and croissants. Mouth-watering, I slip out of the cloud and I slept on and stumble into the wardrobe.

Which isn't empty. There's some pyjamas, shorts, shirts and workout gear in the rectangular room. Empty hangars fill both sides intercepted by short shelves where folded clothes lay. Beneath the hangers are rows meant for shoes and on the wall facing the door is a full body mirror.

Finding some clean underwear, I slip out of the stripper ones and into the panties forgoing a bra. I drag an oversized white t-shirt over my head and slip my legs into some chocolate brown track shorts.

The bathroom is white with a built-in bathtub beneath a round window. A shower sits against the far wall, a rack with shampoo and body wash inside. The cabinet over the sink has a toothbrush, toothpaste and a couple of bottles with night and day cream as well as sun lotion.

Leaving the doors it open I take some makeup remover and wash my face. Then add some sun lotion onto my face before heading downstairs. Following the steps to where the smell of delicious food is coming from. My stomach growls loudly and realized I haven't eaten anything since the night before yesterday.

I find Ryder behind the stove flipping pancakes and Jem setting the table whilst the coffee is brewing. They're both bare chested and in sweatpants. One balck the other is grey. I admire their asses from my place on the stairs. It's a nice view.

Ryder's shoulders are broad, his back and arms corded with muscle. Jem's slightly shorter and his muscles learner but just as defined. They grew up to be hot. As in steaming-mounth-watering-panty dropping eyes popping out of my head-hot.

Ryder's tattoos are on display. The viper wrapping itself around his right forearm is detailed and absolutely stunning. I can't see the word I know is tattooed above his right knee. Nor do I see the same word under Jem's collar bone when his back is too me. I absently trace the word on the left side of my ribcage the "A" starting right where my breast ends. My fingers pass over the cursive and four stars spread out around the letters. I was the only one who got the stars the others complaining it was too feminine for them. Huffing out a breath I take the last steps and head to the kitchen isle slipping onto a barstool.

"Goodmorning," Jem greets cheerfully, "sleep we-" his words stop on his tongue as he turn around.