All Chapters of Alpha Linked: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Kennedy The moment Anna Josephine stepped into my office five months, six days and four hours ago, I knew she was one beautiful package of trouble. She dropped herself into the seat opposite, sitting just as she is right now, with the same world-hating scowl on her pretty face, the same hunch of her perfectly sloping shoulders, and the same nervous tap of her right foot. She told me back then, just as she will today, that she doesn’t give a fuck about anything. She doesn’t give a fuck about claiming assistance and applying for college. She doesn’t give a fuck about the fact she’s less than a week away from being homeless. She doesn’t give a fuck about the latest foster family she’s run ragged these past few months. Anna Josephine has a chip on her shoulder bigger than the file of case notes with her name on the cover. She has a wildness about her, and if those feral looks of hers could kill, I’d be a dead man right now, along with half of my colleagues in this building. Her long

Kennedy I rarely drink, especially not on a week night, but completing my final writeup and filing Anna’s case notes into the archive room is more than enough to drive me to a few after work. I tidy my desk and take one final look at Anna’s muddy boot prints before shutting down my PC for the day. None of us here are miracle workers. We do our best, but not every case on our books has a happy ending. I’ve watched kids grow into adults with even bigger challenges than the ones they faced in the chair opposite me. I’ve lost good kids to a life of drugs in Bristol or Birmingham once they’ve taken a one-way ticket out of our sleepy county for pastures new. You hear about them, the ones who didn’t make it. It’s not a rare event that we get enquiries from lawyers and prosecutors digging for background information for their criminal cases. Some support workers can’t handle the disappointment. For others of us, we take the rough with the smooth – finding encouragement in the kids that we do

KennedyI don’t let go of Anna’s wrist as I head across the High Street towards my apartment building’s car parking area. I curse under my breath as I check for bystanders. This town is full of eyes and ears and there’s every chance the fake news that I dragged Anna back to mine will hit my office before I do in the morning. I could do without that, not least because I’ll have questions to answer that won’t look great on my employment file. I don’t give a fuck what they say about me, but if stupid rumours were to impact the kids on my caseload… It doesn’t bear thinking about.I’m crazy for getting involved, but I can’t stop. My feet take it upon themselves to keep on walking, my heart hammering while my mind spins with justifications for my actions, even though I know there are other ways to handle this.I could’ve looked up Rosie and Bill’s number and called them out to collect her. I could’ve opened up the office and made her wait in reception with me until they arrived.I pull my c

AnnaBill doesn’t even care that I hear him. In the early days they would whisper or talk about me behind closed doors where they didn’t know I was listening. But not now.Now Bill and Rosie don’t give a shit that I know what they think of me.Bill’s words carry loud and clear. The little window in the room I sleep in is open, and his voice reaches me perfectly. So does Kennedy’s.The girl is a vicious little bitch. She’s a fucking nightmare. A disgusting, vindictive little shit.Bill, please…Of course the answer was no. I knew it would be. They hate me, both of them, and I don’t blame them.I didn’t spit in Rosie’s stew though, I just pretended to. She wouldn’t believe me when I said I hadn’t really. She threw the whole lot in the sink and told me I was a horrible girl. And then she cried.She flapped her arms about and called for Bill and told him she was done with me, that they were all done with me.And I shrugged and said I didn’t care, that I didn’t give a fuck about her shitty

RivenI wait for a text from Kennedy letting me know he’s done dropping his drunk infatuation back home where she belongs, but it doesn’t come. I despair for the guy and his midlife crisis.This thing with Anna Josephine, it isn’t like him. Kennedy is responsible and considered. He plays by more rules than he should in life, certainly more than I do, and if there’s one he should choose to break it’s definitely not this one.I’m about to call the crazy sonofabitch when I hear his car pull up outside. He’s had the same car for over a decade, I’d recognise the sound anywhere.I’ve already opened the door when he reaches my doorstep. He brushes past me without a word, and I follow him on through to the kitchen to grab the beer we didn’t manage at Drury’s.I hand him a bottle and he slumps himself against my kitchen island.“They’re going to throw her onto the streets,” he says, and I sigh.“Not. Your. Problem.”“I’ve been working with her for over five months,” he tells me, like I don’t k