Page 16 of Believe it or Knot

I look at her neck again and I know he put those bruises on her and she didn’t want him to.

It takes everything in me to stay where I am on this side of the counter, to not leap over the beat up wood slab and pound my fist into this asshole’s fucking face, to leave him with more bruises than he’s left her with. It’s an overreaction for someone I don’t know. I walked in here blind and I need to suss out the situation before doing anything.

Doesn’t mean I’m going to let him hurt her again, though.

“Who the hell are you?” The guy asks in a snotty voice that I know means he’s the big man in this tiny little lakeside town.

Sorrel looks at him with wide eyes, like she thinks he’s crazy for not recognizing me. “This is Grayson Cordova,” she says, flinging the hand that she had been cradling against her chest in my direction. I catch it before she can pull it back, using it to tug her closer and ignoring the warning growl from the alpha standing next to her.

“Of the Cordova pack,” I say smoothly, uncurling her hand gently and examining the bright red flesh on the pads of her fingers.

“Should I know who that is?” douchebag asks, reaching to yank her away from me, but it only takes one low warning grumble and a shitton of my pheromones in the air to stop him in his tracks. Yeah, asshole, you might be an alpha, but I’m a hell of a lot stronger than you. Back the fuck up.

Almost like he could hear my thoughts, he stumbles back a step. Sorrel is watching all of this with those wide aqua eyes, before she gently tries to remove her hand from my grip and explains, “Liam Cordova’s pack leader.”

“That pretty boy omega actor?”

Okay, yeah, I’m definitely going to kick this guy’s ass before I leave here, but for now I carefully uncap the burn cream and dab it on the tips of Sorrel’s fingers. She stops trying to pull away from me and glares at the guy whose name I haven’t gotten. Not that I care. “Jesus, Stephen, could you be more of an asshole?”

I chuckle at his scowl grows. “Careful, Sorrel. You know I own you.”

I glance up in time to see her gaze drop, her shoulders slumping again. My alpha really doesn’t like that. At all. I lift her hand toward my face and bend just slightly to blow over her fingers, helping the gel to dry, before I look at Stephen. “What’s your name?”

He straightens, puffs out his chest like he thinks his pack name will impress me. It really, really will not be. Even if I have heard of his pack—which I highly doubt—everything about him tells me he’s from a crappy pack.

“Stephen Stillwell.” I arch a brow and search my brain for any information about them. It’s vaguely familiar but I can’t place it. That’s enough to tell me he’s insignificant, and there will be no repercussions if I beat this asshole down.

I flash him a wolfish smile, still holding the pretty beta’s hand. “Well, Stephen Stillwell, I think it’s time for you to go. Whatever business you have with Sorrel is over. If you ever set foot in this establishment again, I will tear your entire fucking world apart. Do I make myself clear?”

Silence for one blissful moment, and I think maybe he got the message, but then he lunges forward. Fingers gripping the front of my shirt. Sorrel lets out a gasp and stumbles away, further down the counter. I lose my grip on her, which I find I really hate. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Stephen shouts in my face, shaking me like that will hurt me. “You can’t just come in here-”

He cuts off when Sorrel barrels into him, shoving him with all her might. He wasn’t expecting it, and neither was I, so he actually moves, releasing his hold and falling into the griddle. There’s a sizzle when his hand touches the hot metal and he hisses in pain. Good. Fucker deserves it.

“Shut up, Stephen!” She shouts, hands fisted at her sides, trembling from head to toe, but still standing her ground. “You can’t come into my restaurant and threaten my customers! Get the hell out of here!”

I’m impressed honestly at how determined she sounds, how fierce. When I’d walked in, she’d been a frightened little rabbit, but now she’s gone all mama bear on him. Apparently, she can be strong to protect other people, just not herself.

I’m oddly flattered that she would do this for me. Not that I need her protection. If she hadn’t intervened, I would have dragged that asshole over her counter and outside to really make sure my warning stuck.

But as it is, Stephen stares at her, his mouth hanging open. His alpharomones drown out the smell of hot oil and burgers, stinging my nose with burned tea tree oil. My eyes water, and I blink to remove the moisture. In the time it takes for that to happen, Stephen lunges toward her, a snarl on his lips. “You fucking-”

The sound of a gun cocking brings him up short, skidding to a stop just inches from Sorrel. Cool winter pine floods the space. I immediately relax. Knowing Stephen isn’t going anywhere, not while Rafe has a gun trained on him, I turn my attention to the terrified beta. “Sweet thing, come here.”

Sorrel twists her head to look at me but stalls out on the gun just inches from Stephen’s face. Her pretty aqua eyes widen and a whine pulls from her. It’s almost omega in sound and it has my alpha instincts revving up into overdrive. I need her on this side of the counter with me, where I can make sure she’s okay.

“Sorrel, sweet thing, look at me.” Her eyes flick to me, to the gun, up to Rafe and then back to the gun. “Don’t worry about Rafe. You know he won’t hurt you, right?” She gives a jerky nod. “Good. He’s just going to keep Stephen from doing anything stupid while you come over here to me.”

Still she hesitates, but this time her gaze goes to the food on the counter, growing cold. “I have to keep working,” she mutters. “They’re waiting for their food.”

“And they can keep waiting. I’ll pay for their meal for the inconvenience. Please,” I hold out my hand to her. “Come here.”

She glances at Stephen, then the food, then Rafe and finally back at me, before she rounds the counter and slips her hand in mine, letting me pull her closer. “Good girl,” I murmur, sliding my hand onto her lower back. She flinches in pain. My hand drops immediately, but I don’t let her go anywhere, hooking a finger in the belt loop of her shorts. “Show me,” I demand.

She shakes her head, sending a waft of lavender and clean laundry into the air. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Rafe narrows his gaze on her face. “Show us, Sorrel. Now.”

She shivers as the alpha command slips over her and she turns to present us with her back, tugging her white Snack Shack t-shirt out of the waistband of her cutoff jean shorts. “It’s really not that bad.”

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