Chapter 8 #2
“The Fairwind has a reputation to maintain.” His face hardens. “We advertise our hotel as a safe space for Omegas. Having you here breaks our policy.”
A woman at the concierge desk whispers to her companion, neither trying to hide how they stare at me. Near the bar, a group of business travelers huddle over phones pointed in my direction, and I can already see the next videos that will go viral of me being kicked out of the hotel.
“Please,” I say, hating my desperation but unable to hide it. “I’ll stay in my room. No one will see me. I just need a place to sleep tonight.”
Marcus shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We’ve already refunded the remainder of your stay.”
Emily shifts her weight, body angling to block the recording of me. “This is discrimination. He was released without charges. You can’t punish him based on social media rumors.”
“Our policies are quite clear—”
“Your policies can’t override basic fairness,” Emily cuts in, dropping to the same dangerous register I heard in the security office. “He needs a place to stay tonight.”
Guests edge closer, hunger for drama evident in their faces, and bile crawls up my throat. I can’t have her dragged into this any further. No need for both of our reputations to be ruined.
I touch her arm, her muscles coiled tight with tension. “It’s okay. Don’t fight this.”
Her gray eyes flash to mine, brimming with an anger on my behalf I don’t deserve. For a heartbeat, I think she’ll ignore me and bulldoze ahead with the same unstoppable force she used to free me from custody.
Instead, she releases a slow breath, jaw clenched tight enough that a muscle jumps beneath her skin.
“Fine,” she tells Marcus. “We’ll collect his things.”
“Security will escort you.” Marcus signals to a uniformed man hovering near the front desk.
The security guard, built like a linebacker with hands the size of dinner plates, joins us. “Fourth floor, right?”
“Yeah,” I choke out.
The elevator ride passes in suffocating silence. Emily stands with her back to the wall, arms crossed over her chest, while the guard tracks my every move, ready for trouble that isn’t coming.
When the doors open, he gestures for me to exit first, staying close behind as I lead the way to my room.
Emily pauses at my door to glare at the big man. “Wait outside.”
He starts to protest, but for all his size and strength, her expression alone is enough to shut him down. “Five minutes. Door stays open.”
Inside, the room appears smaller than when I left it this morning. My few possessions are scattered across the surfaces, work clothes draped over a chair, toiletry bag open beside the sink, and a beaten-up eReader on the nightstand.
I pull my backpack from the closet. “I’m sorry about this.”
Emily doesn’t respond as she moves to gather my things from the bathroom.
I fold shirts on autopilot, the motions familiar from a lifetime of temporary stays. Pack tight. Leave nothing behind. Don’t get attached to places.
“You don’t have to help,” I tell her as gratitude washes through me.
“Faster this way.” She hands me my toothbrush and razor, wrapped in a washcloth.
We work in tandem, emptying drawers and checking under furniture. Within minutes, my entire life is once again contained in a single bag, zipped and ready for the next uncertain destination.
The security guard clears his throat from the doorway. “Time’s up.”
I hoist the backpack over my shoulder, giving the room one final sweep. Emily reaches past me to flip off the light, her hand brushing my arm in what might be comfort or accidental contact.
Either way, it’s the only warmth in a world that’s suddenly turned very cold.
The security guard escorts us back downstairs and straight to the exit.
The hotel’s automatic doors whoosh shut behind us with finality, leaving me stranded on the curb. Night has settled over Pinecrest now, the air cooler with a dampness that hints at fog rolling in later.
Emily stands beside me in silence, while passing headlights sweep over us in rhythmic intervals, illuminating her profile before returning us to shadow.
Across the street, a couple hurries past, the woman’s arm linked through her companion’s. They don’t look our way, but their quickened pace tells me they recognize me, the predatory Alpha from the viral videos, the monster who attacks Omegas.
A brittle laugh escapes me, nothing like my usual sound. “Guess that’s it, then. Maybe I shouldn’t have come to Misty Pines at all.”
The words slip out before I can stop them. I hadn’t planned to share this wounded thought, this fear that’s been growing since Derek’s fist connected with my nose, that my attempt at finding a new place to belong was doomed from the beginning.
Emily remains quiet beside me.
“Sorry.” I shift the weight of my bag, wincing as it brushes my bruised ribs. “You’ve done more than enough. I can find somewhere to crash tonight.”
I remember there’s a cheap motel near the industrial district that I found when I was initially looking for lodging, before I learned that the Misty Pines owners would put me up at the Fairwind. It might not care about violent Alphas. I could walk there in twenty minutes, if my legs cooperate.
The pills in my pocket might dull the physical pain, but nothing will ease the ache of knowing my reputation has been shredded, my job is likely gone, and my few belongings once again fit in a single bag.
“My mother’s pack was right,” I mutter, the words bitter on my tongue. “A scent-blind Alpha is a liability.”
I’d sworn I’d prove them wrong when I left. Now I wonder if I should swallow my pride and call them, begging them to let me come back.
“I still have some savings,” I say, more to myself than to Emily. “Enough for a few nights somewhere cheap until I figure things out.”
A cab slows as it passes, the driver flipping us off before accelerating away. The hatred and distrust run so deep that he’s willing to give up a fare.
“The marina has benches.” My attempt at humor falls flat. “If it doesn’t rain.”
Emily’s boots scuff to a stop beside me. When I dare to look up, the streetlight catches in her silver hair, turning it almost luminous beneath the darkening sky. She stands with shoulders squared beneath her work jacket, chin lifted as her mouth sets in a determined line.
It’s the same expression she wore in the security office when she told Barnes she’d take responsibility for me.
“You’re not sleeping on a bench.”
Hope flutters in my chest before I squash it. “I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Not tonight, you won’t.” Emily pulls out her phone, thumb hovering over the screen. “I know every motel in this town. Most of them aren’t fit for stray cats, let alone people.”
“I can call Kyle,” I offer weakly. “He’ll let me sleep on the floor.”
Emily shakes her head. “It’s too dark for him to cross the water again tonight.”
My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. “I’ll figure something out. You should go home. You’ve already done too much.”
“I have a spare room.”
My breath catches. “What?”
“It’s nothing fancy,” she continues, as if she’s not offering to save me. Again. “But it’s clean, and no one will bother you there.”
A tremble runs through me. “I couldn’t impose—”
“It’s not an imposition. It’s practical.” Emily tucks her phone away. “I need to take you back to give your statement in the morning.”
A car horn blares nearby, startling me from my stunned silence. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” She motions for me to get moving again. “Truck’s back by the clinic. We can pick up the rest of your prescription on the way.”
She turns and starts walking, not checking to see if I follow. Dazed, I remain frozen on the curb, certain I’ve misheard or misunderstood. Then my feet carry me after her, hurrying to catch up.
“Thank you,” I say, the words inadequate for the lifeline she’s thrown me.
Emily’s expression softens in the intermittent glow of passing storefronts. “Just don’t get too comfortable. It’s only for the weekend.”
“Sure,” I respond too quickly.
But as I trail after her like a stray begging for scraps, hope flutters hard in my ribs.
Emily strikes me as the kind of Alpha who takes care of strays in need, and I plan to prove how in need of her I am for as long as she lets me.