Claimed by The Rogue Alpha
Claimed By The Rogue Alpha Chapter 31

It had been a crazy day and what better way to wind down than have a nice warm shower. Lyons stood still as the hot water rained on him. He wished he could stay here forever. Oh, how pleasant the shower was. In no time, he was done bathing. He got into his pajamas and sauntered down the stairs to the dining. Cher and his mother, were already seated and were in one conversation about boys and cheer practices. "I could make do with some brandy tonight," Lyons joked, just to see how his mother would react.

And as he'd guessed, her face was contorted in horror. "Of course not."

"Take it easy, Mum," Cher said, rolling her eyes. "He's pulling your legs."

"Party pooper," Lyons stated, before sitting down to eat. He placed the napkin on his laps and was set to enjoy his chicken soup.

"Kennedy asked me out," Cher said, her grey eyes popping in delight.

"Isn't that the midfielder for Jermaine's high?" Lyons said

"Well, yeah." She toyed with her soup. "Got a problem with that?"

Cher was unbelievable. Hitting it off with a member of a rival club? Well, this was Cher. Her usual her. Lyons hoped that her cheer leading crew wouldn't get wind of what was happening. "That's beautiful, honey," their mother said.

Lyons fought the urge to roll his eyes. His mother was always on Cher's side. It was kinda annoying.

"By the way, Lyons. Are you gay?" Cher asked.

Both Lyons and their mother gasped.

"What?" She raised her hands in surrender. "He hasn't got any girlfriend. Well, none that I know of."

"You don't need to know." Lyons frowned at her, before returning to his food.

"Cher, I've told you. It's not ladylike to be too forward," their mother said. Lyons could bet that Cher rolled her eyes when she said that. That was their mom, the typical conservative person. "But she's right though." Lyons looked up to find his mother focused at him.

"Mmhm," she said, nodding.

Lyons shook his head. He couldn't believe it. They had turned against him. "Can we just have our meal. In peace?" He said this with a smile. A smile that was a disguise to cover up his annoyance.

Fortunately, they didn't push it. And Lyons finally got the peace he craved. However, the words of his mother lingered. He hadn't got a girlfriend. None that any of his family members knew of. The reason was as simple as ABC: he was scared. He was terrified of the idea of committing to something as tasking, something as delicate as a relationship. Not when one of such relationships had taken the head of Peggy.

Lyons shut his eyes, taking in a sharp breath. Don't think about it. Do not think about it.

When he opened his eyes, he saw his mother and sister offering him a look of concern.

"Are you okay?" his mother asked.

He didn't answer her, but returned to his food, trying all his possible best not to throw up as he had suddenly lost his appetite.

"Cher was only concerned about -"

Lyons was about to caught her off when the network news rolled in, doing the cutting itself.

Lyons could now be left alone. His mother had an obsession with news. It was safe to say that her attention would be glued to the screen and not to him. Lyons ate his food, inevitably being an audience to the new anchor.

Hello, and good evening. Tonight on Times Daily. The National Association of Air Travel has expressed concern over the of rising surge of kerosene.

Governor Goldberg celebrates his 60th birthday.

Also, coming up. Body found on the Fridgetom-Bookehürt border....

Lyons shot his head up and glanced at the television. His heart pumped more blood, as he fixed his gaze on the TV. Clearly, he'd have to wait for at least 5 minutes or so, before the full story would be told. Patiently, yet stricken with nervousness, he sat. Soon, his patience paid off.

A young man by name, Finn Wallace has been found dead, his throat slashed at the border. Part of his torso was missing.

Oh f*****g bloody shit, Lyons thought. F**k. F**k, f**k, f**k. How had the police discovered that? How? Lyons blinked, hoping that this was the trick his mind was playing. But deep down he knew it wasn't. This was reality. "Wow," Cher said, "pretty messed up."

Lyons couldn't agree more. The only thing he wisjed to correct was the 'pretty'. That wasn't the right adverb for the situation at hand. This was f*****g messed up. Like really, really bad.

He gulped down saliva, talking his eyes off the television. F**k.