17. Damon #2
“I’m hoping that before the next festival, I will have all the details,” I continue.
“Because I’m worried, and I care. I care about this town, about every single person in it.
I went door to door to check on everyone after the last surge.
I have always had, and always will have, this town’s best interests at heart. ”
Another hand goes up. It’s June Finch. “Sheriff,” she says. “Voluntary or not, the Council has shown its hand. How can we trust that they won’t just send in enforcers if we don’t comply?”
“I won’t let that happen. I will stand between you and them. That’s my promise.”
“And what about the Rift?” a man calls out from the back. It’s Pastor Gide, his eyes wild with a fervent fire. “The Rift is our punishment! The Council’s meddling is just another sign of our sin!”
“The Rift is a natural phenomenon,” I say, my patience wearing thin. “It’s dangerous, yes, but it’s not a punishment. And for now, I just want people to stay out of the quarry, away from the Rift. Let us handle the monitoring. Let us do our jobs.”
The questions keep coming, a barrage of fears and concerns. I answer them as best I can. I talk about the wards, about the emergency response plan, about the importance of community, of sticking together.
I see Caroline watching me with an unreadable expression. I want her to see me as the man who can protect her, who can protect this town. Not the man who lost control, who gave in to his desires in the middle of a crisis.
Finally, the questions start to taper off. The crowd is still restless, but the panic has subsided, replaced by a wary sort of calm. I’ve given them something to hold on to, a sliver of hope in the face of overwhelming fear.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” I say. “But we’re Willowbrook. We’ve faced the Rift before. We’ve faced Council interference before. We’ve faced it all, and we’re still here. We’re still standing. And we will continue to stand. Together.”
I step back from the podium, the meeting officially over. People start to file out, their conversations a low, worried hum. I watch them go, my heart heavy with the weight of my promise.
I will protect them. I have to.
Because if I don’t, who will?
I’m exhausted.
Silas texted me ten minutes ago to ask if I’ll stop by the office because there’s something he’d like to discuss. Honestly, I’m hoping he cancels just so I can head home and sleep.
Aunt Etta, who left half an hour ago, texted to let me know that she made some pasta for us.
I would kill for some dinner.
Long after the formal questions have ceased and the crowd has thinned, a stream of people approach the podium, their faces etched with a mixture of desperation and hope. They want an audience. They want to talk.
A mother worried about her daughter, a shopkeeper concerned about his business, a young Alpha terrified of being forced into a bond he doesn’t want.
I listen to them all, my voice growing hoarse, my patience wearing thin, but my resolve hardening with each story.
I give them my time, my word, my promise. It’s the least I can do.
By the time I’m finally able to escape, the Town Hall is nearly empty, the clock on the wall reading almost 10 p.m. The night air is cool against my skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy, tension-filled room.
I rub the back of my neck, my muscles protesting a day that feels like it’s lasted a week.
All I want is to go home, fall into bed, and forget about the Council, the Rift, and the complicated mess that’s my life.
I’ve just turned the corner from the hall when I see Caroline again.
She’s walking alone down the deserted street, her figure illuminated by the single lamppost at the corner.
My heart does a complicated little flip-flop, a reaction I can’t control, no matter how much I might want to. This is the first time I’m seeing her since I fucked her. The memory hits me with the force of a physical blow, an embarrassing pulse that makes my cheeks burn.
I stop the truck, the engine still running. “Hey,” I say, climbing out, the door closing with a heavy thud.
She stops, turning to face me. “Hey,” she says back. She looks tired, her shoulders slumped, but there’s a defiance in her eyes that I recognize all too well.
“Where are you headed?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intended. I clear my throat and then curse myself for being too obvious. She doesn’t seem to notice how nervous I am.
“I’m meeting June at the apothecary,” she says. “We still have some cleanup to do from… well, from everything.”
I pocket my keys, then pull them out again. “Can we talk?”
Caroline looks around, at the empty street, at the dark windows of the surrounding buildings, and finally nods. “Okay.”
She climbs into the passenger seat of my truck, the leather creaking under her weight. I slide back into the driver’s side, the space between us feeling both too small and too vast. The moment I’m in, I breathe in. And I know, with a certainty that settles deep in my bones, that this was a mistake.
She smells too fucking good. It fills the small space, wrapping around me. It’s the scent of her skin, her heat. It’s a memory I can’t escape, a phantom limb that aches with a sudden, fierce longing.
I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles white. I have to say something. I have to break the silence.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” The admission is ripped out of me, raw and unvarnished. “I’ve wanted to come see you. To talk to you. But I know Griffin is back, and I don’t understand…”
A short, bitter laugh escapes her lips. “You don’t understand? Join the club.” She looks away, staring out the windshield at the empty street. “There’s no ‘me and Griffin.’ Not anymore. He left. He’ll probably be gone for weeks. Rosehill needs him.”
Weeks. The word hangs in the air. All this time I thought she was with him, that I was just a momentary lapse in judgment, a convenient distraction while her boyfriend was out of town. The thought is a punch to the gut.
“So you two aren’t together?”
“We haven’t been together for a really long time, Damon,” she says again.
How? I mean, I spent just one heat with her, and I almost went crazy from withdrawal. How could someone belong to her fully and choose to let her go. How?
“What happened?”
She stares at me for a couple of seconds. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You really thought that I would cheat on my Alpha?”
“Heat makes Omegas do stupid things.” The look on her face quickly makes me backtrack.
“We were high on emotions. I was only supposed to come in and check up on you. None of what happened was planned. It… it’s been so complicated trying to understand what the hell happened.
So humor me, Caroline. Tell me that I didn’t make a fool of myself, pining over an Omega who belonged to someone else. ”
She swallows thickly before licking her lips. I have to look away because I’m so tempted to lean in and lick her lips too.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“I meant what I said about me and Griffin. We weren’t working. It was never going to work. He wanted the city, a life on a fast track. I’m… tied here. To the apothecary, to my life. To my mom. To this town. We just wanted different things. The friction was constant.”
She shakes her head, a self-deprecating smile on her face as she continues.