Chapter 14 - Nathan
“Thank god you’re here,” Bridget said as I entered the lab the morning after our latest spat.
She motioned me to follow her into the far corner of the room.
For a moment, I let my imagination run wild.
She was going to confess her feelings for me; we’d quit the study and move somewhere on the west coast, far from all the bullshit of Fairview academia. But no. Her face was grave.
She sank onto a stool, her back to the wall, one of her legs tucked into her chest, like she was trying to make herself smaller. It hurt, after seeing how fiercely she stood up for herself at the gala, to see her so meek.
“What happened?”
“He’s paying the participants,” Bridget said without preamble.
It felt like I missed a step walking down a staircase. “Davis? There’s no way.”
Bridget wrapped her arms around her knee, her eyes wide. “Andrew told me last night.”
“Andrew?” I asked before I could stop myself. Jealousy, hot and irrational, boiled up to replace the dread.
Her eyes hardened and she raised her chin slightly. “Yes. I called them last night to warn them about the inconsistent results.”
Why did she even have his phone number? Like picking at a scab, I wanted to follow that thread and see just how close they’d become, but that wasn’t as important as figuring out what to do about this situation. Not to mention, it would make me seem pathetic.
“You’re absolutely certain? That’s a significant accusation to make.”
“I believe Andrew and Gabriel. Why would they lie?”
It was a good question. And while I wished I had proof that they were somehow manipulating her, I didn’t. “Tell me what they said.”
Bridget relayed their conversation. “I know you didn’t know about this. And I can’t imagine Anvi knowing anything, either. But Lisbeth? Is there a chance she’s in on it?”
I’d never seen her do anything unethical in previous studies and I told Bridget as much. “She seems more intense now, though.”
Bridget looked over my shoulder towards the door. “I was trying to convince myself she would never be involved in a pay-to-play study. But I can’t. Not when she’s being so erratic. And it would explain why she’s adamant we don’t say anything about the results.”
I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. There was only one solution. Bridget, Anvi and I needed to report Dr. Davis to the IRB if we wanted to have continuing careers. And while I also had my doubts about Lisbeth’s behavior, there was still a kernel of loyalty.
“Anvi should be here soon. You need to tell her what’s happening.
I will talk to Lisbeth.” Bridget opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but I kept going.
“I won’t say anything concrete. But I’ll tell her there have been anonymous reports of unethical behavior by Dr. Davis and see how she responds. ”
“And what good will that do?” Bridget asked.
“She’s already brushed off concerns about the study’s integrity. If she’s unconcerned about accusations of unethical behavior, then we’ll know we need to proceed with reporting to the IRB without her.” We needed to hurry in case Dr. Davis started covering his tracks.
Bridget looked mollified. “Okay, I can work with that.”
The door to the prep lab opened. I turned, expecting Anvi, but saw Dr. Davis instead, like we’d conjured him up by talking about him. His face was red with apparent rage. He stalked towards us, and I instinctively sidestepped to block Bridget.
“You,” he said, pointing at her. “Fucking Omega. I just got off the phone with Andrew St. James, and he’s telling me he doesn’t want to continue in the study? Did you tell him to drop out?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.
“I know you did. You want to fuck him, right? Maybe you’re already fucking him for all I know.” Patrick completely ignored me and leaned to the side to stare at Bridget.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bridget said, her voice thin and wavering.
“Why would you assume this has anything to do with our team?” I asked, trying to bring Davis’s attention back to me.
“I’m not fucking talking to you,” he said, finally looking at me. “I’m talking to that little whore who’s ruined my research.”
“No. You will not speak to her or about her that way.” I blocked his eyeline to Bridget again. “If you have an issue with any member of our team, you can speak with Lisbeth.”
Patrick inflated with rage. “This is my clinic, my study, my fucking team. If I wanna talk to that little cunt, I will.”
A red haze descended, the one I fought so hard to keep locked up tight. The primal urge to bark him into submission until he was a puddle on the floor warred with the rational part of my mind that reminded me an insult wasn’t grounds for disembowelment.
I had only used my bark once before, right after I had presented as an Alpha.
I was seventeen, on the cusp of leaving for college, and my father had been complaining about something, as usual.
It could have been the money my mother had set aside for my college, the dinner she’d cooked that night, or maybe she’d just breathed too loudly.
It had been years since I’d stood up to him. When I was thirteen, I had tried to intervene and pull my father off my mother during one particularly violent episode. He’d thrown me into the wall hard enough to break my front tooth.
“Oh toto,” my mother had crooned in my ear that night, after my father’s rage had blown itself out. “You do not need to fight my battles for me. I can’t stand to see him hurt you.”
But that night, the newly awakened Alpha part of my brain lit up with the knowledge I could stop him. I’d burst into the kitchen and the tableau burned itself into my mind. My father, his eyes wild, stood over my mother who was cowering in the corner, his hand tangled in her hair, his fist raised.
“Let her go,” I’d barked.
His hands had dropped like a broken marionette. He sagged backwards. Triumph surged through me, along with a heady feeling of power. My mother still looked terrified.
I took a step toward him. “On the ground.”
My father’s knees dropped to the floor with a sickening crack.
“You don’t touch her anymore,” I’d said, still advancing on him.
“Toto, no,” my mother had pleaded.
“It’s okay,” I’d replied, still feeling that power running through me. My inner Alpha was flexing to life for the first time.
My father looked at me differently than he had before. It wasn’t respect in his bloodshot green eyes. It was fear. I relished it.
“Little fucker,” he mumbled. I could smell whiskey over his grassy Beta scent. “Think you’re a big boy now, huh?”
I’d ignored him and just led my mother from the room.
Once the adrenaline had worn off, though, I felt disgusted. Even if I’d done it for a good reason, didn’t doing that, making someone do something they didn’t want to do, make me just as bad as my father in some ways?
It hadn’t changed anything, anyway. I left for college, my mother stayed with him, and it wasn’t until he died that he finally relinquished his hold over her.
I had resolved to never use my bark again unless it was absolutely necessary. A life or death scenario.
I schooled myself into calm, pushed down the Alpha inside, and said through gritted teeth, “This is no longer a constructive conversation. I’m happy to schedule a time to speak formally about this issue with the Principal Investigator present.”
Patrick laughed without humor. He looked at Bridget one more time. “Don’t worry, I’ll be talking to Lisbeth.”
“As will I,” I said.
He turned to leave, walking with a swagger that made my blood boil. Bridget and I watched in silence as he slammed his way out of the lab.
I turned back to her. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the lab door, but she didn’t seem as upset as the last time Patrick had yelled at her. “Are you alright?”
She gave me a rueful smile. “Why? Because he called me a cunt? I’ve heard worse.” The bravado in her voice seemed forced. “How long do you think until we get escorted from the building?”
“He won’t fire us. Lisbeth won’t let him, not without proof you did anything wrong.” I had no idea if that was true.
“Hm. I guess,” she said. “I’m going to gather evidence while I can.”
Patrick didn’t fire us. Lisbeth said she had “talked him down” for the time being.
“But if I find out you had something to do with Andrew St. James dropping out of this study, I will make sure you never get another job in research. Ever,” she said to Bridget.
We were in the prep lab while Anvi fed the cells in the cleanroom.
To Bridget’s credit, she kept her face a mask of innocent compliance.
“And Dr. Davis’ harassment?” I asked.
Lisbeth sighed. “I don’t like him much either, but he’s the one we have to please. Keep out of his way; keep your head down. That’s the best I can do.”
I met Bridget’s eyes, and she shook her head infinitesimally. I agreed. We couldn’t trust Lisbeth with the allegations of him taking payments if she wouldn’t protect Bridget from out-and-out harassment.
“I’ll stay off his radar,” Bridget said.
Lisbeth gave her a patronizing smile. “Thank you, Bridget. Now can we please get back to work?”
When she left, Bridget turned to me and hissed, “We need to get proof. Like, now.”
“How?” I asked, exasperated.
Bridget thought for a moment. “What if we reach out to the other subjects and ask them if they’re paying, too? Anonymously, of course.”
“That might work,” I said. I had seen the informed consent paperwork in Lisbeth’s office, which had the contact information for each participant. “Do you think… Andrew would be willing to speak to the IRB, too?”
Bridget’s cheeks flushed. “Yes. I think so.”
“Once we do this, there’s no going back.”
“I know. But you know it’s the right thing to do.”
As we made a whispered plan to get the participants’ email addresses, I added Bridget’s moral sensibility to the list of reasons I would never, ever get over her.