“—tried to corner her when she was in Heat?—”
“—works for Misty Pines Resort, can you believe it?—”
“—should know better than to hire an Alpha that young?—”
The crowd parts as I approach, my height and the set of my shoulders clearing a path withoutwords. I catch fragments of conversation, each one stoking the flame of my anger. Not at Jared now, but at how fast judgments form, and how easily they can shatter a person’s reputation.
Near the door, a woman’s head snaps up, her nostrils flaring as she catches my scent. “You here about the Heat assault?”
I stop in front of her. “I’m here for Jared Masterson.”
Her expression shifts, eyebrows rising. “You’re with him?”
“I’m his supervisor.” The half-truth rolls off my tongue without hesitation.
She studies my face, searching for disgust, maybe, or solidarity. Finding neither, she steps back, the others following her lead.
I take a breath, centering myself.
This isn’t my problem, I tell myself one last time.
But as I push open the peeling blue door to the security office, I know that’s not true.
A Beta officer with thinning hair looks up from his clipboard, his expression hardening when he spots me. Irritation stiffens his posture as he stands, blocking the path to the back rooms where they keep people who aren’t arrested but aren’t free to leave, either.
“Can I help you?”
I plant my feet shoulder-width apart, claiming the space. “I’m here for Jared Masterson.”
He consults his clipboard with exaggerated care. “Mr. Masterson isn’t receiving visitors. We’re still conducting our investigation.”
“I’m not a visitor. I’m his supervisor.” I step closer, using my height to stare him down. “He called me.”
The officer’s chest puffs up. “That may be, but?—”
“Jared Masterson is my responsibility.” I lean in until he falters, eyes dropping to the floor. “You’ll let me see him.”
A murmur ripples through the small waiting area, and an angry young Alpha turns toward me in challenge. He must be the one making the accusations.
“Ten minutes,” the security guard relents. “Supervised only.”
He unlocks the door behind the desk, revealing a narrow hallway with doors on either side. As I follow him, the whispers grow louder, Jared’s name repeated with increasing hostility.
“In here.” The officer stops at the last door, punching a code into a keypad. “Keep your distance. He’s still considered a potential threat.”
The door swings open to reveal a small roomwith bare walls and a metal table bolted to the floor.
When I enter, Jared’s head snaps up, disbelief washing over his face.
He sits on the far side, one wrist cuffed to the metal chair he sits in. Dried blood crusts along his upper lip and chin, his nose swollen to twice its normal size. Dark circles shadow his eyes, red-rimmed and fixed on the scratched surface in front of him.
“Emily.” My name comes out rough and nasal from his injured nose. “You came.”
The officer hovers at my shoulder. “Ten minutes. I’ll be right outside.”
When the door closes, Jared’s brittle composure crumbles. His free hand trembles as he runs it through his hair, leaving it standing in disheveled spikes.
“I swear I didn’t try to assault her. I didn’t know—” The words tumble out in a panicked stream. “There was this couple, and these two guys kept watching them, and everyone was acting weird, but I was focused on driving the boat. As we neared the docks, they started fighting. I tried to break it up, and?—”