“Crazy bitches,” he spat. “Both of you. This place is a joke anyway.”
He stormed toward the exit, boots heavy on the floor. The bell jangled violently as he shoved through the door, and then he was gone, disappearing into the rain.
Silence crashed down. Jamie slumped against the shelf, his hand pressed to his temple, where pain pulsed in time with his heartbeat. When he pulled his fingers away, they came back clean. No blood. Just hurt.
“Jamie!” Emma was at his side, phone still clutched in one hand. “Oh my god, are you okay? Let me see.”
“’M fine.” He wasn’t. His head throbbed, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and his stomach felt like it might rebel at any moment. But Emma looked terrified, and someone needed to be okay right now.
“You’re not fine. He hit you!” Her voice wobbled dangerously. “I already called 911. They’re sending help.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did. That guy assaulted you. Both of us.” She guided him toward the front, steering him into the chair behind the counter. “Sit. Don’t move. Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?”
“Just rattled.” Jamie lowered his head between his knees, trying to breathe through the adrenaline still flooding his system. His temple throbbed with each heartbeat, a reminder of how quickly things had gone wrong.
Emma crouched beside him, one hand on his shoulder. “You were so brave. Stupid, but brave.”
“You shoved yourself in front of him first.”
“Yeah, well. I’m allowed to be stupid. It’s in my contract.” Her attempt at humor fell flat, voice still shaking. “I can’t believe he did that. Who the hell gets violent over snakes?”
Jamie didn’t answer. He was too busy trying not to think about William, about violence, about how quickly a normal day could turn into a nightmare.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out with trembling fingers, Jamie saw Sloane’s name on the screen.
Want to grab lunch? Know a place with decent sandwiches.
Any other day, Jamie would’ve said yes without hesitation. But right now, his head hurt, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and he could still feel the impact of that fist grazing his skull. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Typing felt surreal, like trying to bridge two completely different worlds.
Instead, his fingers moved on their own. Can’t. Guy just assaulted me and Emma at work. Waiting for cops.
Emma returned with a water bottle, pressing it into his hands. “Drink. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, but he took a long drink anyway. The cold helped, grounding him back in his body.
“You’re not fine. You’re shaking.” Her voice softened, losing its earlier fury.
“I just...” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t explain how William had rewired his fear response, how every raised voice now felt like a threat, how he’d spent the last twelve hours trying to pretend he was okay when he absolutely wasn’t.
His phone buzzed.
Sloane’s response came through almost immediately.
Where are you?
Jamie’s throat tightened, something warm and terrifying unfurling in his ribs.
You don’t have to do that. We’re fine. Just shaken up.
Another buzz.
Address. Now.
* * * *
Sloane pulled in behind the police cruiser parked outside Pawsome Pets. The store's cheerful yellow building and paw print window decals barely registered through the red haze clouding his vision. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as he fought to control the primal rage surging through him. Someone had hurt Jamie. His Jamie. Sloane’s wolf snarled, ready to revoke the bastard’s existence.
