Even now, after the security camera footage showed the truth of the situation, Barnes regards Jared with lingering suspicion.
“The resort will receive official confirmation by the end of the day,” Barnes adds, his focus shifting to me. “For their records.”
“Appreciate it,” I reply, keeping my calm.
These people watched the same footage we didof Jared leaving the wheel to break up a fight, reaching out to steady a falling woman, and getting punched for his trouble, but not an apology among them.
“Get out an APB for those two Alphas who jumped the boat after stirring up all this fuss,” I demand. “They deserve a fine, at minimum, for leaving the scene of a crime.”
Barnes grunts, which I don’t take as an agreement, but there’s not much else I can do.
We move away from the security office, weaving our way through the packed parking lot filled with tourists brought to town for the weekend market up on the boardwalk.
A group of dockworkers pause in the process of coiling ropes, tracking our progress, and two women at a coffee stand lean together, voices dropping as we pass. A man with a camera points it in our direction before his companion pushes his arm down.
“Will the dock security make sure everyone understands I’m innocent?” Jared asks, his shoulders stiffening.
“They’ll release a statement,” I murmur, though I doubt they’ll make a big enough splash about it to draw anyone’s attention to their poor police work last night.
Jared’s shoulders curve inward, the confident posture from moments ago vanishing with each passing stare.
I fight the urge to take his arm and put myself between him and their judgment. Instead, I step closer, our shoulders brushing as we walk. The proximity pulls his attention back to me, away from the whispers.
“They’ll find something new to talk about tomorrow,” I say, though we both know it isn’t true.
Small towns have long memories.
“You see that guy with the phone?” Jared tips his head toward a teenager who isn’t even trying to hide his recording. “They’ll post more videos. ‘Predator Alpha walks free.’”
A father pulls his young daughter closer as we approach. The girl stares at Jared’s bruised face with undisguised curiosity, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, though we’re nowhere near them.
“The law cleared you,” I remind him. “The footage proves what happened.”
“The law isn’t the internet,” Jared mutters, his bitterness bleeding through. “The video is on a dozen platforms, destroying my reputation.”
“The truth matters,” I say, forcing convictioninto the statement. “What actually happened on the water taxi matters more than what people think happened.”
Doubt shadows his sea-glass eyes. “Does it? Everyone already believes the lie. My mother’s pack was right. A scent-blind Alpha is a liability. If I could detect pheromones like everyone else, none of this would have happened.”
My fingers curl into fists at my sides. His mother’s pack should have protected Jared and taught him to navigate his difference instead of convincing the young Alpha he was broken.
“If you could detect pheromones, you’d be like every other Alpha,” I counter. “Quick to react, slow to think. You reached for that woman because she was falling, not because some biological imperative told you to.”
A small group of teenage boys points at us from across the square, snickering behind their hands, and one of them gestures obscenely.
Jared’s jaw tightens, tension running through him. “Let’s go. I don’t want to drag this out.”
Three steps from my truck, Jared stops and turns toward me, face set with unexpected determination.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, scanning our surroundings for a potential threat.
Jared’s shoulders straighten once more. “We’ve got one more stop to make.”
I raise an eyebrow in question. “The security office cleared you. We’re done here.”
“Not with that.” He shakes his head, wincing when the movement jostles his injured nose. “We need to go somewhere else before heading back to your place.”
Curiosity prickles along my spine. “Where?”