Chapter 9 #2
"That's Gumbo. He lives here. If he wanted to eat any of you, he'd have done it by now.
" I said casually, scratching at a mosquito bite on my arm like I hadn't noticed the way all three of them had gone rigid, like I couldn't smell the sharp spike of adrenaline cutting through their individual scents.
"Comforting." Remy muttered, his voice pitched higher than usual, his amber eyes locked on the nine-foot predator floating placidly in the shallows.
"He's beautiful." Silas said quietly, and something in his voice—reverence, maybe, or recognition—made me turn to look at him.
He was watching Gumbo with an expression I'd never seen on his face before, something almost like wonder softening those sharp features, and I realized he was seeing a kindred spirit.
One apex predator acknowledging another.
Harper just nodded, a small movement that barely disturbed the air. He didn't seem afraid, exactly. More... wary. Respectful. Like he understood that some creatures deserved space.
"Alright. Let's get to it. You've all been watching my property.
Pulling up survey stakes. Keeping secrets from me.
Why?" I set down my glass with a deliberate clink and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, looking at each of them in turn with the kind of direct stare that made most people squirm.
Steel underneath the words. No room for evasion.
Silence. The three of them exchanged glances—wary, assessing, none of them wanting to speak first. The tension stretched like a rubber band about to snap.
"I was trying to protect you. From the developers.
From whatever threat they posed. I know that's not—I know I should have told you.
I just..." Harper finally said, his voice rough as gravel, his massive hands gripping his whiskey glass so hard I half-expected it to shatter.
He trailed off, jaw working like he was chewing on words he couldn't quite spit out.
"You just what?" I pressed, keeping my voice level even as I leaned closer.
"I didn't know how. I'm not good with words.
With people. I thought if I could fix the problem, handle it before it became something you had to worry about.
.. Stupid. I know it was stupid." The words came out like they'd been dragged from somewhere deep inside him, each one costing him something, and his knuckles had gone white around the glass as he shook his head slowly, unable to meet my eyes.
"It was. What about you?" I agreed, but I kept my voice gentle, softening the judgment with understanding as I turned to Remy.
"Same story, different packaging. I found the stakes, recognized the threat, started checking your property lines.
Told myself I was being helpful. Truth is, I was scared to face you.
After what happened at the Hook—after you saw through all my bullshit—I didn't know how to.
.." He tried for a charming smile, but it crumpled before it could fully form, and his accent had thickened the way it did when he was being real instead of performing.
He gestured vaguely, the motion frustrated and incomplete.
"How to what?" I asked, my voice softer now.
"How to be real with you. You asked me to show you the real me, and I was too much of a coward to do it.
So I watched from a distance instead. Like that was somehow better.
It wasn't." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, losing the last traces of charm, and a bitter laugh escaped him as he stared into his glass like it held answers he couldn't find anywhere else.
I turned to Silas last. He'd been silent through the others' explanations, his expression unreadable as stone.
"And you?" I asked softly, letting the question hang in the air between us.
"I don't have a different answer. I watched because I didn't know how to approach.
Because you looked at me like I was a person, and I didn't know what to do with that.
I'm not good at being human. I'm better at surveillance.
So that's what I did." His voice was flat and controlled, almost mechanical, but his pale eyes met mine without flinching from the admission, and I saw something vulnerable lurking in those silver depths—something that wanted to be seen even as it expected rejection.
The honesty of it—from all three of them—settled something in my chest. They'd screwed up. All of them. Made decisions about my life without consulting me, treated me like something to be protected rather than someone to be talked to.
It was infuriating. It was also, in its own twisted way, kind of sweet.
"You're all idiots. You know that, right?
Absolute disasters, the lot of you." I said finally, letting a hint of warmth creep into my voice despite my best efforts to stay stern, shaking my head slowly as I looked at each of their faces—Harper's guarded hope, Remy's nervous relief, Silas's careful stillness.
"We're aware." Remy said dryly, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders as the corner of his mouth quirked up in something approaching genuine humor.
A grunt from Harper. A tiny nod from Silas.
"So here's what's going to happen. No more watching from the shadows.
No more making decisions about my safety without talking to me first. You want to protect me?
Fine. But you do it with me, not for me.
I'm not some damsel in a tower. I've been taking care of myself and this land since my aunt died.
I don't need saving. What I need is information.
Allies. People who will tell me the truth, even when it's hard.
" I sat back and looked at each of them in turn, letting the words sink in, my voice carrying the weight of authority that came from being in my own territory.
I held up a finger when Harper opened his mouth, cutting off whatever apologetic protest was forming behind his eyes.
"We can do that." Harper said quietly, his voice rough with something that might have been gratitude, and the other two nodded in silent agreement.
"Good. Now. Tell me everything you know about Crescent Holdings." I picked up my whiskey and took a long sip, the burn warming my chest, and settled back in my chair to listen.
The next hour was actually productive. Harper had done the most research—he'd been asking questions around town, tracking the company's other acquisitions, building a picture of their strategy.
Remy had connections through his music scene that had given him intel on which local officials might be in the developers' pockets.
Silas had mapped their survey patterns, identified their weak points, assessed the legal boundaries of their claims.
Together, the three of them had gathered more information than I'd managed in weeks of worrying on my own.
"They're targeting properties along the waterfront.
Yours is right in the middle of the area they want.
If they can't buy you out, they'll try to pressure you.
Make the land worthless until you have no choice but to sell.
" Harper spread a hand-drawn map on the porch table, his thick fingers—surprisingly gentle—tracing the lines he'd sketched, his voice low and steady now that he had facts to relay instead of emotions to navigate.
"How do we stop them?" I leaned forward, studying the map, my shoulder almost brushing Harper's arm.
"We don't let them. We make it clear that this property is protected.
That they'll face opposition if they push.
" Silas said flatly, his pale eyes gleaming in the fading light with something that might have been anticipation, his voice carrying the certainty of someone who'd planned operations with far higher stakes.
"Opposition how? We can't exactly threaten a corporation." Remy raised an eyebrow, drumming his fingers against his thigh in a nervous rhythm that betrayed his casual tone.
"Legal opposition. My family's been here for generations. So has yours. We have standing. Connections. Resources they might not expect." Harper said, nodding at Remy as he tapped the map with one thick finger, his voice gaining confidence as the conversation shifted to practical matters.
"I know lawyers. Some of them actually like me. I can make calls." Remy admitted, already pulling out his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen with sudden purpose.
"I know the land. Every inch of it. I can make their surveys... difficult." Silas added, and something almost like a smile flickered across his usually blank face—there and gone so fast I might have imagined it, but carrying a hint of dark satisfaction.
I looked at the three of them—these broken, stubborn, infuriating Alphas who'd been circling me for weeks. They weren't perfect. They'd screwed up in about a dozen different ways. They couldn't even sit on the same porch without the air crackling with tension.
Something warm bloomed in my chest anyway.
"Alright. We do this together. But I'm in charge.
My land, my rules. You disagree with something, you tell me.
You don't go behind my back. Understood?
" I said, and all three of them went still, their attention snapping to me with an intensity that should have been unnerving.
I held each of their gazes in turn—Harper's steady and dark, Remy's bright and searching, Silas's pale and unblinking.
Three nods. Three murmured agreements. Three Alphas, deferring to an Omega.
It shouldn't have felt as right as it did.
Gumbo chose that moment to haul himself out of the water and lumber up onto the dock, his massive body glistening in the last rays of sunset, water streaming from his armored hide. All three Alphas went tense again.
"He wants to meet you. Properly, I mean. He's been watching you watch me for weeks. I think he's curious." I said, unable to keep the amusement from my voice as I stood and walked down the porch steps toward the dock, my bare feet familiar with every weathered board.
Harper rose first, following me with slow, careful steps that made no sudden movements.
Remy hung back, his easy charm replaced by genuine wariness, one hand gripping the porch railing.
Silas moved last, silent as always, but I caught the way his eyes tracked Gumbo—assessing, but not afraid. Interested.
"Gumbo, these are... friends. Be nice." The word felt strange in my mouth, not quite right but close enough for now, and I crouched down beside my alligator to scratch the ridge above his eye, feeling the familiar roughness of his scales beneath my fingers.
He rumbled—a low, vibrating sound that could have been greeting or warning or just indigestion. With Gumbo, you never quite knew.
Harper stopped a few feet away, his massive frame utterly still. Then, slowly, he crouched down to Gumbo's level, making himself smaller, less threatening. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment—two large, silent predators, sizing each other up across three feet of dock.
Gumbo's tail swished once. Then he settled, his amber eyes closing halfway in what I'd learned to recognize as acceptance.
"He likes you. He doesn't usually relax around strangers." I said, unable to hide my surprise, watching the unexpected interaction with fascination.
"Animals usually do. Like me, I mean. Easier than people." Harper's mouth twitched—almost a smile, the closest thing I'd seen to one on his face—and he kept his voice low and non-threatening as he held out his hand, palm down, not touching but offering. An invitation.
Gumbo's nostrils flared. He didn't move away.
"I'm good up here, thanks. Me and giant reptiles, we have an understanding.
I don't bother them, they don't eat me." Remy called down from the porch, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his usual swagger completely absent as he eyed Gumbo with barely concealed nervousness. He was only half-joking.
Silas approached the dock without invitation, moving in that silent way of his that made the hair on my arms stand up. He stopped beside me and stared down at Gumbo with those pale silver eyes.
Gumbo stared back.
Something passed between them—recognition, maybe. One predator to another. Silas's lips curved into what might have been a ghost of a smile, so small and fleeting it was barely there at all.
"He's magnificent." His voice was barely above a whisper, rough with something that sounded almost like reverence.
I looked at the scene around me—Harper crouched beside my alligator, Silas standing silent and watchful, Remy hovering nervously on the porch. Three Alphas in my territory, all of them drawn to me, all of them broken in their own ways, all of them trying.
I didn't know what this was. Didn't know what it could become. The smart thing would be to send them away, keep my distance, protect my heart.
I'd never been particularly good at the smart thing.
"Same time next week. We'll make a plan.
Figure out how to deal with the developers.
And you—" I pointed at each of them in turn, my voice carrying clear across the dock, "—will keep me informed of anything you find.
No secrets. No surveillance without my knowledge.
" I crossed my arms and waited for acknowledgment.
Three nods. Three murmured agreements. Three scents mingling in the evening air—moonshine and river water and rain.
"Good. Now get out. I need to process all of this, and I can't do that with you three making the air smell like a distillery mixed with a thunderstorm.
" I turned and walked back toward the porch, waving my hand dismissively over my shoulder even as something warm curled in my chest at the sound of their shuffling compliance.
They left. Harper first, with a lingering look over his shoulder that made my stomach flip—those dark eyes holding something that looked dangerously like devotion.
Remy next, throwing me a crooked smile that was more genuine than any of his earlier performances, his dimples actually reaching his eyes this time.
Silas last, pausing at the edge of the trees to turn and look at me—just for a moment, just long enough for our eyes to meet across the growing darkness.
Then they were gone, and I was alone with Gumbo and the rising moon and the memory of three different scents still clinging to my porch.
"Well. That was something." I said to Gumbo, who had followed me back up to the cabin, his claws clicking against the dock boards as he settled into his usual spot near the steps.
He rumbled in what might have been agreement.
I sat on my porch until the stars came out, thinking about broken Alphas and second chances and the way it felt when all three of them looked at me like I was the center of their universe.
Dangerous. That's what this was. Dangerous and complicated and probably a terrible idea.
I smiled anyway.