“This is insane,” I protest, but I do as instructed. Cold metal encircles my wrists with a series of clicks. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We’ll sort this out at the office.” He grips my upper arm as he guides me toward the gangplank.
As we pass Derek, he leans in close. “You’re lucky I only broke your nose.”
The dock boards vibrate beneath my feet as thesecurity officer marches me through the gathered crowd. Their faces blur together, expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility, and whispers follow us.
“Alpha attacking an Omega... in Heat... on his boat... nowhere to run...”
My face burns with humiliation stronger than the pain. My cousin, Kyle, vouched for me to get this job. He trusted me with his boat, with his reputation. And now this.
The security office sits at the end of the harbor, a squat building with tinted windows. Inside, the air conditioning raises goose bumps on my bare arms. They frisk me, emptying my pockets and dumping the contents onto the desk. Then I’m guided to a chair bolted to the floor in a small room, where they uncuff one hand and reattach the restraint to the chair’s metal arm.
“Wait here,” the male officer instructs, as if I have a choice. “We need to take statements from the witnesses and the victim.”
The door closes with a soft click as deafening as a slam.
I lean forward, my whole face throbbing. My nose has stopped bleeding, crusting over in a way that tells me it’s probably not broken, just badly bruised.
Through the thin walls, I hear Derek giving his version of events. Words like “predatory” and “took advantage” filter through, each one a knife between my ribs.
My phone sits on the desk in front of me, placed there along with my wallet, and as I look at it, the screen lights up with a text.
Cousin Kyle
How’d your first solo run go? Not as scary as you thought it would be, right?
My stomach twists. If I tell him what happened, his disappointment will be unbearable. He gave me this chance after my familial pack kicked me out so they could court a new Omega. He’s the only family member I have left who cares what happens to me, and I’ve ruined his generosity in the most spectacular way possible.
The second hand on the wall clock ticks forward, each movement an eternity. Five minutes pass. Ten. The voices outside continue, but no one returns to check on me.
I stare at my phone, considering my options. I could call Kyle, but shame stops my fingers from reaching for it.
Who else would help me?
Emily’s words from my first week float back to me.“Next time you’re left hanging, you call me.”
She had stood at the equipment shed, gray face serious beneath silver hair, and pressed her business card into my palm.
Would she come? Or would she write me off as trouble not worth her time?
The security officers’ voices grow louder in the hallway. Soon they’ll return, and what will happen? I’ve never been arrested before. Will they believe me about being scent-blind?
With my uncuffed hand, I reach across the desk for my phone. My fingers brush the edge, pushing it farther away. I strain forward, shoulder protesting, and manage to grasp it.
Emily’s contact information appears in my recent calls from when I phoned her yesterday about a lumber delivery. My thumb hovers over her name for three rapid heartbeats before I press call.
The line rings once, twice, three times. My hope begins to fade.
Then the ringing stops, and her husky voice fills my ear. “This is Emily.”
Chapter Seven
Emily
Ipull into the harbor parking lot, the sea breeze carrying salt and diesel through my open window. The harbor security office sits at the far end, where weekend boaters go to pay for mooring violations, not handle assault allegations. Now, a knot of people clusters outside the squat building with tinted windows.
As I shut off the engine and hop out, voices drift across the asphalt.