Ihate Reed so much more in person than I ever did through a radio broadcast.
Watching him stand there on the deck of theMistrunner, pontificating about natural hierarchy and biological imperatives while holding a fishing rod like it’s some kind of masculine trophy, makes me want to grab that rod and beat him with it.
But what’s worse and tightens me is seeing Slater stand up for me.
For Ash, technically. But still.
The way he smoothly insulted Reed without the man even realizing it and how he made it clear that, on his boat, everyone gets treated with respect regardless of designation left me swooning.
My boss, the man whose voice has been my obsession, just defended Omega rights to a bigoted asshole without even knowing I’m an Omega.
Because it’s the right thing to do, not because he has something to gain. Just because he fundamentally believes that people deserve respect.
The guy’s heart is made of pure gold, and watching him be so specific about his work ethics, so careful about being fair to everyone on his team, is blowing me away. I never expected this level of integrity.
He isn’t a man who would fire an Omega unfairly.
The thought keeps circling through my mind even as I try to focus on taking photos of Reed’s stupid triumphant face as he reels in his fish.
That note I found in Mason’s office.Let go due to safety concerns.What does that even mean? Because standing here watching Slater operate, seeing how much he cares about his business and his people, I’m struggling to believe he would intentionally hurt one of his staff members.
Maybe there’s more to the story and I’ve been investigating the wrong people this entire time.
I’m taking a break from photographing, pretending to need a moment, when Jasper heads inside to grab drinks from the built-in fridge near the salon doors.
I follow him in, grateful for the escape.
The interior salon is gorgeous. All rich wood paneling and cream leather seating. There’s a curved sofa along one wall, a small galley kitchen with marble countertops, and windows that let in plenty of natural light. Everything is clean and well-maintained, clearly expensive but also comfortable. Lived-in.
Jasper pulls out several bottles of water, then glances at me and lowers his voice. “That guy out there? Real fucking piece of work.”
“Understatement of the century,” I mutter, dropping Ash’s forced masculine tone slightly since we’re alone.
“You know about him?” Jasper asks, leaning against the counter.
“I’ve listened to his show a few times.” The admission tastes bitter. “It’s vile. Every episode is just him telling Alphas they’re superior and Omegas need to be controlled. Makes my blood boil.”
Jasper’s expression darkens. “I don’t understand how anyone buys into that shit. Like, we’re supposed to protect Omegas, not dominate them. There’s a difference.”
“Try telling that to his thousands of followers.”
“Fuck his followers.” Jasper uncaps one of the water bottles and takes a long drink. “Anyone who thinks being an Alpha means being an asshole doesn’t deserve the designation.”
I’m about to respond when he moves past me toward the door, then pauses. He leans in slightly, sniffing, and my entire body goes rigid.
“Fuck, man,” he says, brow furrowing. “Did you bathe in your sister’s clothes or something? You smell just like her.”
My stomach drops.
Of course he smells her on me. Panic flashes hot and fast under my skin, my pulse spiking so hard it makes my fingers tremble. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I force myself to stay exactly where I am.
“Laundry,” I say quickly, forcing a laugh that sounds almost believable. “We share a washing machine. Same detergent.” God, that sounds lame even to me.
He studies me for a second longer. Then he shrugs. “Makes sense, I guess. Just threw me off.”
He heads back outside, leaving me alone with the echo of my own heartbeat.
That was too close. I grasp the water bottle tighter, staring at nothing, forcing myself to breathe slower.
