The cottage creaks around us.
“So I filed one final report with the Registry documenting harassment.” I pick up the whiskey glass, taking a small sip and wincing at the burn. “Then I resigned my position.”
Grady’s pen stops mid-word. “And you left town.”
“Yes.” My whisper trails off as the rain pounds the roof in a steady rhythm. “I canceled my lease, packed what I could fit in my car, and drove until the city lights disappeared in the rearview mirror.”
My throat tightens as the last truth surfaces. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
I glance around the table. “At the time, I thought disappearing was the only way to survive Carson Whitaker.”
Silence settles as the storm begins to ease.
“And for two blissful months,” I finish quietly, “it worked.”
“Which is why you were so shocked when he appeared at the Phase One Completion party,” Grady murmurs. “You thought you’d escaped him.”
“I should have known better.” Bitterness fills me. “I knew he was in town for the teaching summit being held in Pinecrest, but I never expected him to stay here. I thought if I stayed out of the public for the weeks leading up to it, there was no way our paths would cross.”
Sad understanding fills Emily’s features. “Which is why you stopped coming to Saturday Market.”
“Yeah.” I take another sip of whiskey and hiss at the burn as the alcohol hits the cut on my lip. “Fat lot of good it did me. Once Quinn started at Pinecrest Academy, Carson picked up right where he’d left off, only this time, it was harder to packup and leave again. I had a job I loved, a child I didn’t want to disappoint, and people I didn’t want to?—”
I cut off as shame floods back in, because as much as I didn’t want to abandon them, my staying had still brought them pain. I really did mess everything up.
Emily’s hands unfold on the dining table, palms flattening on the polished wood. Her focus never leaves me from across the table, tracking each wince, each pause, each moment when pain interrupts my speech.
“I told myself if I kept him at arm’s length, if I played by his rules but never gave in, things would be different this time.” I give a bitter smile, and the cut on my lip splits back open. A bead of blood wells up, which I wipe away with the back of my hand. “But men like Carson don’t lose interest. They escalate until they get what they want.”
Jared rises and crosses into the kitchen, where he pours water into a tall glass before returning to set it beside my whiskey, and the simple kindness of his gesture undoes me.
“His methods grew more sophisticated at Pinecrest.” I lift the water to my lips, welcoming the cool relief on my cut lip. “He weaponized Quinn’s accommodations, and every time I resisted him, he reminded me of my responsibility to her.”
Emily sucks in a sharp breath. “Why didn’t you tell Blake what was happening?”
“I didn’t disclose why I left Westbrook, and I didn’t want to jeopardize her socialization. She’s at a fragile point in her development. I thought I could handle it. I took on the additional jobs at the school that Carson demanded, took up the committees, the substitute teaching… I let him overload me until all of my free time was wrapped up in Pinecrest Academy.”
Emily’s crushed clover and flannel pheromones wrap around me, offering comfort I don’t deserve, while beside me, Jared’s salty reassurance and Grady’s even calm fill the room.
“Every choice I made,” I say, meeting each of their eyes in apology, “was shaped by the fear that any protest might trigger retaliation against Quinn or anyone who dared stand near me.”
My confession hangs between us after months of hiding.
“Carson understands coercion better than anyone. He prefers psychological warfare. Rewriting reality until you doubt your own senses.” I blot at my lip again. “This was the first time he straight-up hit me.”
Growls come from the two Alphas, and Emily’s focus shifts to the crowbar still by the door, though she remains seated.
“I believed that keeping distance between my private life and Carson would stop him from discovering how much you mattered to me,” I admit, and her attention leaps back to me. “Every canceled dinner, every excuse, every time I slipped out before dawn, I told myself I was protecting you from becoming his next leverage point.”
Jared shifted in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “We could have faced him together.”
“I know that now.” The admission surprises me with its ease. “But after years of handling him alone, exposure felt more dangerous than isolation. And after Westbrook…” I shake my head. “I didn’t trust the system to protect me or anyone who stood with me.”
After so many months of carrying this alone, my shoulders loosen.
“The night I walked away from you both,” I continue, “Carson demanded I go to the holiday staff party with him as his registered Omega. We were right back to where things ended at Westbrook, and I knew what was going to happen when I refused.”
Emily’s nostrils flare. “You knew he’d hit you?”