Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jared
The doctor braces my cheekbone with a gloved thumb and smooths the last strip into place, aligning the bridge he reset a few minutes earlier.
The adhesive burns my irritated skin while the splint cools and sets under his hands. As he anchors the splint and gives a final press, the edges of the room bleach out with a burst of pain before the outlines swim back into focus.
While he trims the excess tape with a quick snip of the scissors and checks the alignment, I blink until the tear film clears and the chill across the bridge settles.
“Hands off the splint. No nose-blowing,” he says, tightening the strap. “Mouth open if you sneeze. Ice on and off. Sleep propped up. Afrin only for bleeding, no more than three days.”
“Yes, sir.” The anesthetic’s wearing off, and pain throbs with every pulse beat.
He sets a small clinic-dispensed starter pack on the tray. “Here are two doses of pain medication for tonight. I’ve sent the full prescription to Pinecrest Pharmacy.”
“Thank you.” I ease off the exam table and grab my goody bag before heading out the door.
Emily waits in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, feet planted shoulder-width apart as she leans against the wall. When I emerge from the exam room, she straightens, her gray eyes scanning my face.
“Not broken,” I mutter, lifting the bag of pills. “Just a bad bruise. Gotta keep the tape on for a week.”
Her chin dips in acknowledgment. “I called Kyle while you were in there.”
My stomach drops through the floor. “How mad is he?”
“He’s furious about the situation.” Emily turns toward the exit, expecting me to follow. “Says that couple should have used scent blockers if they were going hiking during her pre-Heat.”
Emily had said the same at the security office, and it helps ease some of the guilt for not acting faster.
I hurry to catch up, wincing as the movement jars my face. The clinic doors slide open, and the evening air hits my skin, cooler now as twilight settles over Pinecrest. Street lamps flicker on, one by one, casting long shadows across the sidewalk.
“Did you tell him about the boat?” I ask, the shame of it burning hotter than the pain in my face.
“He says insurance will cover the scratches.” She slips her hands into her pockets. “Boats can be fixed.”
Easier than reputations, I imagine.
We walk in silence for half a block, Emily’s strides purposeful while mine drag and shuffle.
Kyle took me in after my mother’s pack decided I was too much trouble.
A defective Alpha they couldn’t mate off to strengthen alliances.
When I arrived with only a backpack to my name, he had a job for me and made sure I had a place to sleep.
And how did I repay him? By almost getting arrested and damaging his employer’s boat.
“I should have stayed at the wheel,” I say, the words scraping my throat raw. “If I’d—”
“Don’t.” Emily doesn’t slow down or turn toward me. “You didn’t create that situation. The other Alphas did, by harassing an Omega they knew was vulnerable. Derek did, by not protecting his girlfriend. And Mia did, by not using suppressants when she knew her Heat was coming.”
A couple walking toward us shifts to the other side of the sidewalk as they approach, the woman’s fingers tightening on her partner’s arm when she recognizes my face.
Once they pass, their whispers trail behind them, and I tuck my chin closer to my chest. “Word travels fast.”
“Small town.” Emily’s fingers flex at her sides. “By morning, you’ll either be a predator or a victim, depending on who’s telling the story.”
Her certainty should terrify me, but there’s comfort in her bluntness. She isn’t trying to spare my feelings or soften the blow.
She doesn’t hide behind lies the way my familial pack did when they told their friends I was leaving so their new Omega could settle in. Every interaction with her is direct, unfiltered, and real.
I sneak a peek at her profile, the strong line of her jaw and the silver hair that catches the streetlight. She saved me today. Came when I called, believed me when no one else would, and faced down a roomful of angry Alphas to get me out.
“You don’t have to walk me back,” I say, though my selfish heart hopes she’ll stay.
This is the most attention she’s given me since I arrived, and despite everything, I’m grateful for it.
Emily shrugs. “I’ll see you to your hotel room without trouble.”
More people stare as we pass storefronts. A group of teenagers huddles by a frozen yogurt shop, heads bent over phones, and one elbows another when he spots us. The boy’s face twists in disgust before he turns away.
Uneasiness coils in my gut. The reaction feels wildly out of proportion to a simple rumor. My shoulders hunch, instinctively shrinking under their judgment.
“Stand up straight,” Emily murmurs for my ears alone. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
I try to straighten my spine, to mimic the confidence in her stride, but the prescription bag crinkles in my grip as my fingers tighten around it with nerves.
“The Fairwind is up ahead.” I spot the hotel’s blue awning down the block. “You can head home if you want. I’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t reply as she continues walking beside me. People move aside for Emily without her asking. They don’t even know why they do it as they respond instinctively to the authority she carries in her bones, and I admire her all the more.
She’s gorgeous but doesn’t seem to realize the admiring stares she receives. Or if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge them.
We pass a restaurant with outdoor seating, and conversations pause as diners track our progress.
Emily scowls at them, and her hand finds my back, the same as it did down at the docks when we left the security office. Protective as she glares them into looking away. And just like at the docks, her touch sends a zing of awareness through me that has me leaning closer.
“I should get room service tonight,” I say, the idea forming as I speak. “Fewer people to deal with.”
Emily hums in agreement.
“I could order enough for two,” I add, my heart hammering. “As a thank you. For everything today.”
The words hang between us for three steps, four, five. Emily’s pace doesn’t falter.
“You don’t need to thank me,” she says at last. “I just did what was right.”
“You’re the only one who thinks that,” I counter. “No one else listened to me.”
We reach the corner where we need to cross, and Emily’s hand leaves me as she steps forward to hit the pedestrian button with her knuckle.
We wait side by side, not quite touching. The traffic light casts alternating red and green across her features, highlighting the exhaustion I hadn’t noticed before.
“I can order whatever you want,” I say, desperate to keep her close as long as possible. “The hotel has great burgers. Or there’s a Thai place that delivers.”
Emily turns to me, her expression unreadable in the shifting light, and I think she might say yes.
The signal changes, and she steps off the curb. “Let’s get you inside first.”
I follow her across the street, hope flickering in my chest. Not a yes, but not a no, either. My feet grow lighter despite the ache that pulses through my entire body, and for the first time since Derek’s fist connected with my face, I think maybe something good can come from this situation.
The Fairwind Hotel’s revolving door spins us into the marble-floored lobby, and heads turn in our direction, conversations dropping to whispers.
The concierge behind the reception desk freezes mid-sentence with a guest, his eyes widening at the sight of my taped nose and bruised face.
Self-conscious of the stares, I step closer to Emily. “Elevators are to the left. I’m on the fourth floor.”
Before we can cross the distance, though, the hotel manager materializes from a side office to intercept us. His name tag, which reads Marcus, catches the overhead light as he squares his shoulders.
“Mr. Masterson.” He acknowledges Emily with a quick dip of his head before turning his attention back to me. “I was hoping to catch you before you went upstairs.”
My stomach clenches. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid so.” He gestures toward a secluded corner of the lobby. “Perhaps we could speak in private?”
Emily’s hand settles on my shoulder. “Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of me.”
Marcus’s mouth thins to a disapproving line. “Very well. Mr. Masterson, in light of tonight’s events, we can no longer accommodate you at the Fairwind.”
The words don’t register at first, and I blink, certain I misheard. “Excuse me?”
“Your belongings need to be removed immediately.” His voice drops lower, though not enough to prevent nearby guests from hearing. “We have a strict policy regarding guest conduct, especially when it comes to the safety of our Omega clientele.”
Heat rushes to my face, pulsing beneath the bruises. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I didn’t—”
“We’re well aware of what happened.” Marcus slides a tablet from under his arm, tapping the screen before turning it toward us. “This was posted less than an hour ago.”
The shaky video footage plays on silent, showing Derek’s fist connecting with my face and the chaos that followed. He scrolls to the caption beneath.
Alpha water taxi captain for Misty Pines Resort attacks Omega passenger in Heat. Arrested in Pinecrest.
“That’s not what happened,” Emily interjects, her expression like granite.
Marcus swipes to another video, this one from a different angle, showing Derek shielding Mia while security leads me away in handcuffs. The comments beneath are vicious, calling for my arrest, my firing, or worse.
“Two hundred thousand views already.” Marcus tucks the tablet away. “We’ve received seventeen calls from concerned guests in the past thirty minutes, and our corporate office has been notified.”
The floor tilts beneath my feet, and I grab the edge of a nearby chair, steadying myself as the reality crashes down. “But I was released. They determined I didn’t—”