“When things ended between us, I assumed Mixie would stay with me. She was mine.” The word catches in my throat. “But Auren said she belonged to the pack, and since I was the one leaving the pack, I couldn’t take her.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jared blurts out, then flushes, his hands clenching into fists on the table, knuckles whitening. “Sorry, but it is. You can’t just claim someone’s pet like that.”
His indignation on my behalf surprises me.
“So this Auren guy stole your cat? Your legally adopted pet?” Each question comes sharper than the last, color flooding his cheeks beneath the bruising. “Do you have adoption papers? Vet records in your name?”
“I do.” At his reaction, a warm, unfamiliar emotion blooms in my chest. “All of it. But he said we could share custody, and since I work?—”
“Do you, though?” Jared demands. “How many times have you been allowed to visit?”
I shake my head. “He keeps telling me the timing is wrong, or Mixie isn’t feeling well…”
“That’s theft!” Jared’s jaw sets in a hard line, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for battle. “He had no right to take Mixie from you.”
A small smile tugs at my lips, impossible to suppress despite the ache of the memories. The sight of him sitting at my table, borrowed clothes rumpled from sleep, face bruised and swollen, yet angry over a cat he’s never met, strikes me as both ridiculous and touching.
“What?” he asks, catching my expression.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “It’s been months. I’ve made my peace with it.”
“Have you?” His too-perceptive eyes cut through the careful wall I built around the loss. “Because you still keep her picture in the living room, and the carrier is still in your truck.”
“No.” The truth slips out before I can stop it. “I miss her every day.”
Jared leans forward, forearms braced on the table. “Then you should get her back.”
The simplicity of his statement catches me off guard. As if reclaiming what’s mine could be so straightforward. As if I haven’t spent months begging Auren for time with her.
“It’s not that easy,” I say.
“Why not? She’s legally yours. You have the paperwork.” His eyebrows rise in challenge. “What’s stopping you from taking her back?”
The question hangs between us, weighted with implications I’m not ready to face. What’s stopping me? Fear? Pride? The secret hope that, as long as Auren keeps Mixie, we’re still connected?
The timer goes off, saving me from responding, and I stand. “The bread will need another twenty minutes, and then we should head down to give your official statement.”
As I turn back to him, his focus dips to my neck, where my robe gapes from moving around. His pheromones spike, filling my kitchen with the scent of the sea, all saltwater and driftwood.
It hooks in my stomach, demanding a response, and flustered, I adjust my robe’s collar. “Finish eating while I go get dressed.”
“Okay."
But he doesn’t turn back to his food, and my feet stay planted. A stuttering purr rises from him, and he starts to stand, to move toward me.
The motion breaks whatever spell held me in place, and I spin on my heel, fleeing the room.
The security office door opens, sunlight spilling across the threshold as we step out into the dock’s parking lot.
Jared walks beside me, his posture straighter than it was when we entered an hour ago.
Officer Barnes stands in the doorway behind us, clipboard tucked under his arm. “That’s that, then. Case closed.”
Jared turns back, offering his hand. “Thank you for reviewing the footage.”
Barnes hesitates for a heartbeat before accepting the handshake. “It was only standard procedure. Nothing personal.”
The lie hangs between them. Everything about yesterday was personal, from the assumptions to the accusations to the marks left on Jared’s wrists from the handcuffs. They treated him like an outsider in Pinecrest and seized the chance to mete out their idea of justice.