My fingers tap the cardboard sleeve. Will I be comfortable sharing a boat with Jared again? The question rises unbidden, and I hate myself a little for it. The few times we’ve crossed paths, he’s kept a respectful distance. Never once has he made me uncomfortable with inappropriate staring or comments about my size or Omega status, unlike many other Alphas I’ve encountered.
But the video...
The dockhands move on to the next video in their queue, and I pull out my phone, hesitating before typing “Misty Pines water taxi incident” into the search bar.
The results flood my screen with news articles, social media posts, and video clips, all describing an Alpha water taxi operator who allegedly attacked an Omega passenger in Heat.
I click on one of the less sensational-looking articles, and the facts are sparse. A female Omega went into unexpected Heat on the water taxi, afight broke out, and Jared Masterson was detained. He was released later the same evening without charges.
Released without charges. The viral conversation leaves out that detail.
Guilt washes over me at how quickly I slipped into believing the worst, letting a grainy video override my own limited but neutral impression of Jared. Isn’t that what I’ve spent my entire life fighting? People making assumptions about me based on incomplete information?
As an Omega who doesn’t fit the physical stereotype, I’ve been on the receiving end of rumors and whisper campaigns. I know what it’s like to have others decide who you are without bothering to learn the truth.
Yet here I am, convicting Jared based on a viral video and dock gossip.
The coffee sits like sludge in my stomach as I gather my things.
Outside, the morning sun glints off the harbor water, boats bobbing against the docks. It looks the same as it did yesterday, Pinecrest firmly entrenched in the late July heat.
As I round the corner of Pinecrest Bakery, my shoulder connects with a grocery bag, sending a carton of eggs teetering toward the sidewalk.
I lunge to catch it, my fingers closing around the cardboard a split second before disaster. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!”
“No worries,” a familiar voice says. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, either. Thanks for the save. Breaking eggs on the sidewalk would’ve been the perfect cap to my morning.”
I straighten as Grady juggles the bag with his cane, trying to find a balance between the two.
When he spots me, his hazel eyes widen in recognition. “Well, fancy running into you. Having a good day off from babysitting duty? Quinn can be quite the handful.”
“I’m getting better at figuring out how to direct her energy. How’s your day going, except for the whole flying eggs thing?”
“I’m doing well, thank you. I decided that it was a beautiful day to get some shopping done.”
The bakery door swings open behind us, and we shuffle to the side, creating a small island in the flow of pedestrian traffic.
“Let me help you with these.” I place the eggs back in his paper bag and take it from his hand, feeling the weight of canned goods at the bottom.
Grady doesn’t protest, which tells me his leg is bothering him more than usual today. “Appreciateit. I might have been a little too ambitious with my shopping list.”
We move toward a nearby bench beneath the bakery’s striped awning. The morning sun warms the wooden slats, and the scent of fresh bread wafts through the open door, mingling with the salt air from the harbor.
I set the bags down between us.
From the café’s outdoor tables, a man’s voice carries on the morning air. “That Alpha kid’s finished. This is why giving jobs to outsiders is never a good idea. Who vouched for him? Who’s his familial pack?”
Grady’s hand tightens around the handle of his cane, knuckles whitening. I turn toward the café patio, where two men in business casual attire lean over coffee cups, heads close together.
“Caught the whole thing on video,” the other man says, waving his phone. “My niece was on the dock when it happened. Said the Alpha went berserk when he smelled the Omega in Heat.”
The muscles in Grady’s jaw flex beneath his trimmed beard. He leans closer, and I tilt my head to catch his words.
“Kyle pulled the boat footage from the security camera.” His eyes flick toward the men and back tome. “The poor kid didn’t even realize what was happening.”
I blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Grady shifts on the bench, grimacing as he adjusts his position. “There was a couple on board with two other Alphas. The woman went into Heat, and the other Alphas started harassing her. Her boyfriend tried to protect her, and a fight broke out.”