Chapter 14 #2
“Then why’d he try to help her in the first place?” the same person demands, determined to paint the young Alpha as a villain.
“Maybe because he’s a decent person?” Grady responds, his quiet voice carrying in the sudden lull.
Heads turn toward us, noticing our presence for the first time.
Emily spots us at the back, a flash of surprise crossing her features before her professional mask returns. “The point isn’t whether her pheromones affected Jared. The point is what actually happened versus what you’ve been sharing online.”
A younger carpenter scuffs his boot on the plywood floor. “The video I watched looked different.”
“That’s because it was edited to look different,” Emily replies. “Fifteen seconds taken out of context. I can think of quite a few visits to the Rusty Gull, where if someone had taken a video out of context, any one of you would be cast in a bad light.”
A few chuckles rise from the group, but Emily’s hard expression quiets them. “Would you want the entire town turning on you because of something like that?”
The room shifts, the atmosphere changing from confrontation to uncomfortable realization.
“If anyone wants to spread rumors about members of this crew,” Emily continues, her next line carrying across the entire tent, “you’ll do it with the full story in your hands. Not edited clips designed to destroy someone’s reputation.”
She clicks off the projector, and the screen goes dark. “Now, we have a resort to build, and two hours before you get to call it done for the day. Back to work!”
Crew members begin filing out, conversations hushed but intense. Some avoid Jared, skirting his corner, while others cast a fleeting, apologetic glance his way, though none stop to speak to him.
“Amazing how fast people turn when there’s blood in the water,” Grady murmurs beside me, his words pitched for my ears alone.
The phrase strikes like a physical blow, memories surfacing of my previous teaching position.
How quickly I became dangerous after a parent witnessed me defending myself against Carson’s advances during an open house.
All she’d seen was Carson’s bloody lip, not the bruises on my wrist from his fingers, and the rumor had spread that the oversized Omega was too aggressive and shouldn’t be trusted around kids.
An entire career dismantled by gossip, and the principal’s solution was for me to give in and accept Carson’s Mark to prove it was just a misunderstanding between lovers.
I’d come to Misty Pines to rebuild in a place where no one knew me. And yet, when the first viral clip of Jared surfaced, didn’t I participate in the same kind of judgment?
The tent empties until only a handful remain. Jared stands, keeping his head down, and inches toward the exit.
Emily gathers her equipment, speaking with one of the older workers, but she tracks Jared’s movement, concern evident in the furrow of her brow.
A burly man with a salt-and-pepper beard stops in front of Emily, and I recognize him as the one who kept pushing the Heat issue. “You can show the video all you want, but Alphas stick together. That’s just how it is.”
Emily steps forward, closing the distance between them without touching. “Do we, Frank? Is this why you’ve spent the day spreading gossip among the crew that painted one of our own as a predator?”
Frank’s shoulders hunch. “I’m protecting my people. Got an Omega daughter at home.”
“Your concern would be touching if it wasn’t based on lies.” Emily juts out her chin. “Keep doing it, and you’re off my site.”
Frank’s face flushes beneath his weathered tan, and Frank appears ready to challenge her. But then he snorts, turning on his heel to push past his companions toward the exit.
“Come on, boys. Plenty of other jobs in Pinecrest.” He aims his parting shot at Emily with a sneer. “Ones that won’t endanger my pack.”
The canvas flap slaps closed behind them, leaving the tent empty. Emily’s shoulders sag a fraction before she squares them again, gathering her equipment.
Outside, the workers resume their day. Through the tent flap, I spot Jared lingering at the edge of the site, standing apart from the others, and I wonder if he’s waiting for someone to give him direction.
“Going back to Quinn and the cookies?” Grady asks, his attention also on Jared.
I hesitate. “In a minute.”
Grady nods in understanding. “I’ll head back down to Cabin One and give Holden a heads-up to expect you.”
He moves toward the exit, pausing beside Emily to exchange quiet words. He returns her thermos, and his hand lingers on hers in a gesture of support before he leaves.
Left alone in the back of the tent, I consider my options.
Return to the safety of Holden’s kitchen and Quinn’s innocent enthusiasm for cookie sprinkles? To a world where I’m accepted without question? Or do what I know is right?
Emily passes me on her way out, a thermos tucked under her arm that I imagine she brings on the off-chance Grady will join her for lunch. And Jared’s not on her crew, but she protected him like he was. Like it’s natural to extend a hand to help others.
She pauses, gray eyes assessing. “You didn’t have to come.”
“No,” I agree. “But I’m glad I did.”
Her head dips in acknowledgment. “He’s not what they’re making him out to be.”
“I see that now.” The admission feels like stepping out onto thin ice. “I should have realized it sooner.”
She studies my face for a moment, and when I don’t say more, she continues on her way.
Through the open flap, I catch Jared pushing away from the wall where he’s been waiting. He moves with deliberate casualness toward the dock path, head down, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
I recognize the posture. I’ve worn it myself.
Before I can second-guess my decision, I leave the tent to jog after him. Workers raise their heads as I pass, curiosity evident in their expressions. In khakis and a polo, with the sun turning my hair dark violet, it’s clear I’m out of place here.
Jared’s pace quickens as he nears the path leading down to the water, eager to escape the weight of scrutiny.
I lengthen my stride to catch him at the trailhead, my call carrying across the distance between us. “Jared.”
He stiffens, bracing himself before turning. Surprise registers on his face when he recognizes me, then wariness replaces it, his body angling away, preparing for another blow.
“Boat’ll need a good scrub after all this rain,” I say, the words casual. “Bottom’s probably collecting algae.”
Confusion flickers across his features, his brow furrowing. “What?”
“The water taxi,” I clarify, stopping a respectful distance from him. “After heavy rain, the lake bottom kicks up sediment. Creates a film on the hull.”
Jared blinks, hood slipping back to reveal more of his face, where the bruises have faded to greenish-yellow smudges. “Yeah, it does.”
“Quinn loves gross things from the ocean.” I slip my hands into my pockets. “I’d have to get her pack’s permission, of course, but maybe we could come down tomorrow afternoon to help you clean it up? In the name of science.”
Understanding dawns in his expression, followed by cautious hope. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I reply, echoing my words to Emily moments earlier. “But six hands make faster work than two.”
Workers pass us on their way back to the construction site, heads turning in speculation.
Jared’s shoulders hunch before he forces them straight again. “Why would you help me?”
I could offer platitudes about believing his innocence or explain my own history with false accusations.
Instead, I shrug. “Because the boat needs cleaning, Quinn has an excessive amount of energy, and I’ve detailed hulls before.
My grandpa had a boat, though it was a lot smaller than the water taxi is. ”
It’s the right approach, based on the way Jared’s posture eases. “Sure, then. If her uncle says it’s okay. Lots of disgusting things to be found around the dock.”
I walk backward. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll bring cookies. Quinn says there are rainbow star sprinkles.”
Jared’s lips twitch. “Can’t say I’ve ever had rainbow star sprinkles.”
I smile back, because someone should.
Once, I let gossip drive me into hiding.
Tomorrow, I won’t.