Page 11 of Knot A Chance

Me: I need you here now. I have evidence that Felix didn’t take heroin on his own.

Wyatt: Did you leave your garage unlocked yesterday?

Me: What? I don’t fucking know. Did you read my text?

Wyatt: I’m at your garage dealing with the fact that it’s busted to hell. Windows broken. Tires slashed. It’s bad, Bennett.

Me: I don’t fucking care.

Wyatt: Well, I care for you. I’ll send Donovan to the hospital to hear what you found.

Me: I don’t want Donovan. I want you.

Wyatt: You’re getting Donovan.

I groaned and dropped back into my chair. “It’s safe to assume you’ll be seeing Wyatt again, and his deputy, Donovan.”

Julia gave me a skeptical look. “I know it can be challenging to accept when our loved ones are in pain. Their choices can cause us a lot of hurt and anger. We have support groups for families of individuals who struggle with addiction. Do you want me to see if any of them are meeting while you’re here?”

“I don’t need a fucking support group. I need answers,” I growled, knowing that I sounded like an asshole, and for once, not caring enough to do anything about it.

Someone had done this to Felix. They’d tried to make it look like he’d had a relapse and left him on the side of the road to die. There was no support group in this hospital that was going to calm me down until I found out who hurt him and why.

“I’ll be back with your breakfast,” Julia said quietly before seeing herself out as I leaned forward, grasped Felix’s hand, and kissed his knuckles.

“I know you didn’t do this, handsome. There’s not a chance you did this to yourself and I’m going to prove it.” I pressed my lips to his forehead and stayed there until my tears started to fall on his cheeks again.

Chapter Four

Felix

March: Three Months Ago

“I thought Ally said you usually drink one beer and go home.” I smiled as I slid a fresh IPA across the counter to Bennett. It was a slow night at the bar, which I was grateful for since it was only my third night on the job and my first without Ally. We had two waitresses running food, so I had plenty of time to notice the way Bennett’s eyes followed me around the bar while I worked.

He smirked at me. “There used to be no reason to stay for a second drink.”

I leaned on my elbows in front of him, taking a hit of his pine scent. It was nearly as addictive as the drugs used to be—something I realized didn’t fill with me as much fear as it used to. The therapists in rehab had spent a lot of time reminding us that the way alphas and omegas reacted to each other’s pheromones was an entirely different neurological pathway than drug addiction. Both felt good, producing a high in some ways, but the mechanisms were different and not to be feared. Omegas didn’t become addicted to an alpha’s scent in the same way that I’d been addicted to drugs.

“And what’s making you stay for a second drink now?” I asked.

“I’m trying to entice the gorgeous bartender who works here to go on a date with me by continuing to tempt him with my smoking hot presence.”

I laughed and looked around. “And where is this gorgeous bartender you’re so set on wooing? Should I be jealous?”

“Never.” He smiled broadly at me. “Are you feeling wooed at all yet?”

I shook my head and moved to grab another beer for the woman at the other end of the bar who’d just finished hers. “We’re not happening, Bennett. It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” he said.

“It’s not. For many reasons.” I delivered the beer and walked right back to him, like a magnetic energy beyond my control was responsible for my feet.

“Because you’re not interested?” he asked, raising one eyebrow, daring me to lie.

“Because there are complications associated with dating me.”

He waved his hand, brushing me off. “Please, nothing could scare me away from you.”