Come to think of it, I now sort of remember men who looked like those three bastards on the T on the way to Castle Island. It was probably a complete accident we ran into them in the first place.
“How do you even know them?” I ask.
“High school.” Charlotte takes a bite of her pizza. “As soon as we all presented, we realized the scent-match. My body craves them when my suppressants aren’t working and I actually hate it. And them.”
I can sort of understand. “Were you ever an official pack?”
Charlotte shakes her head. “Not really. We went to prom together, but they wanted the whole pack life situation, kids and all, far too quickly. I had my heart set on college and performance figure-skating. But they clearly didn’t take no as an answer. But it’s only been a few months since high school graduation. Hopefully they’ll go away soon.”
I set down my paper plate. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot to deal with.”
“At least Fowler was there to scare them off,” Charlotte says.
Yeah. That.I fold my hands in my lap. “It was a nice gesture for sure.”
Charlotte doesn’t say it, but I know what’s on her mind. That maybe that was enough of a nice gesture to give Fowler a second chance. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
We let the conversation drift for a while. Eventually, Charlotte claims the couch, burrows in, and starts scrolling through her phone. I go to brush my teeth and end up just standing in the bathroom, staring at my reflection.
There’s nothing remarkable about me except the fact that every cell in my body remembers how it felt to be chosen, and then dropped, by the alphas I was supposed to want most in the world.
I think about Fowler. The way he didn’t hesitate today—didn’t even ask if we wanted backup, just appeared and gave Charlotte the space to breathe. I didn’t thank him properly. I should.
But that might mean first tearing down the walls these alphas forced me to build.
CHAPTER 16
FOWLER
The firehouse’s coffee maker gurgles loudly. Pope glances at me over his puzzle, eyes a little too bright for 6 A.M. after all the fun of yesterday’s day off.
Too much fun for people who need to be ready to save lives four hours after last call.
Pope clears his throat. “You keep staring at the door like you’re waiting for Judgment Day, Murph.”
“Not Judgment Day.” I shake out the stiffness in my shoulders. “Maybe more like an ambush.”
We do a round of silent breakfast, me with my oatmeal and black coffee, Pope with his overnight oats and a boiled egg. The rain barreling down outside lets up, but now and the rattle of wind and distant thunder starts to shake the firehouse’s walls.
I’m halfway through my second cup when the door buzzer goes off, startling us both.
Pope raises his eyebrows. “Expecting company?”
“Not unless a cat decided to bring itself in.”
I wipe my hands on my jeans and go for the buzzer. The outer door’s glass, revealing Grace’s profile through the morning rain. Her hood’s up, cheeks pink from the walk, and her jaw is set hard.
Ah, shit.Is she mad about yesterday? I was just trying to help out. Those asshole alphas looked like real pieces of work.
I hit the door release. The firehouse front entry is a hallway lined with steel lockers, but there’s no privacy, so I just step outside, ignoring the wet and the low hang of clouds. Grace waits at the bottom of the concrete steps, duffel slung over her shoulder, sneakers leaving dark prints on the wet sidewalk.
“Hey, Fowler.” She smiles sheepishly. “Sorry to bother you during shift. I asked Connor which firehouse you work at.”
I nod. “That’s okay. Do you want to step in from the rain?”
She shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. I won’t stay long. I’m already late.” She looks like she hasn’t slept. “And I don’t really want to talk about this in front of the entire firehouse.”
I gesture a thumb over my shoulder. “There’s a laundry room, if you don’t mind the smell of dryer sheets and wet socks. At least then we’re dry.”
