Page 75 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“I need to see Ro,” she stated as the paramedics and police pulled away. “He’s with Heather. Thank God they stayed at Sam’s last night. I texted her because I didn’t want her to worry when she heard the sirens.”
“He’s safe,” I reminded her. “Come on, I’ll take you before we go to the police station.”
I called Sam to alert him to the situation, and he agreed to meet us at the station. Then we went to meet Heather and Ro. Zoey kept a light-hearted attitude around her son, but she didn’t want him to be too far away from her.
Ro asked, “Are we going to the gym? To the splash pads?”
“I’ll take you to the park,” Heather said. “Your mom and Noah have to run an errand, but I bet she’ll come and meet us when she’s finished. Right, Zoey?”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Zoey agreed. “I’ll come and meet you.”
She gave Ro a kiss on the cheek that the youngster made a face at—clearly eight was too old to have your mother fussing over you in public.
With that decided, Zoey and I drove off.
The police station loomed ahead, its sterile façade cold and unforgiving. Sam was already waiting for us. He looked relaxed, but there was a telling tension in his shoulders.
I nodded at him. “Ro’s with Heather at the park,” I said. “I’ve got someone keeping tabs on them. Just in case.”
“Good thinking,” Sam said, clapping me briefly on the shoulder before turning his attention to Zoey.
Her fidgeting hands and darting eyes betrayed her nerves as she stood in the doorway of the police station. Sam stepped closer to her, his gaze softening. “I’m here for you, every step of the way.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Sam leaned down and gently kissed her cheek, then smoothed out her disheveled hair. “You’re not alone, Zoey. Remember that.”
She nodded, twisting the sleeves of her sweater between her fingers.
“I can tell them everything I know, from the first time I came to your rescue to the moment I saw you again,” Sam continued. “That will add weight to your statement.”
Zoey exhaled shakily, looking up at Sam with something that looked like hope. It was a fragile thing, but it was there. Big strides came from small steps, I reminded myself, proud of the way she was handling the entire situation.
She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and the three of us entered the station, ready to face the ghosts of her past.
The chief’s door swung open, and the man himself, Chief Peter Warman, filled the frame, a solid block of authority. He strode forward, his hand extended, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Noah.” He shook my hand firmly.
“Chief Warman.” I glanced at Zoey. She looked small beside me, her fingers wrapped tight around the strap of her purse.
“Zoey, why don’t you sit here with Sam for a minute?” I said. “I need to have a quick chat with the chief to fill him in on what happened at your place.”
She nodded, but didn’t say a word.
The chief led me back along the corridor out of earshot of Zoey.
“Well, that’s a bullshit excuse if ever I heard one,” Peter quipped. “You do know we’re in the twenty-first century, Noah? Nowadays, it’s rare to find someone without a phone, those tiny devices that constantly beep and buzz with notifications.” Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he produced his from his pocket. “The guys on scene have already given me a briefing, unless something’s changed?”
I gave him a wry smile. “I know. I just didn’t want Zoey to hear everything I’m about to tell you. You know Mike Cortana is one of the pack betas.” I rubbed the back of my neck, fingers kneading the knot of tension there. “And you know Zoey is here under pack protection?”
“Your father has kept me informed,” he said as he leaned against the wall.
I blew out a forceful breath. “This George character is a real piece of work. He tried to bribe me to walk away from Zoey. When I turned him down, he started threatening me and my business. He’s been warned to stay away. He even made noises about buying off the cops here in town.”
Peter crossed his arms and snorted. “My guys are good. They aren’t for sale.”
I held my hands up in a placating gesture. “I know. My father set him straight. But this attack stinks of him, literally and figuratively. He won’t have gotten his hands dirty, but this is a warning shot.”
My gaze shifted to Zoey. She was leaning on Sam for support. Despite the obvious fatigue etched on her face, there was a quiet determination emerging from her, a strength I doubted she knew she had. She’d get through this, and the weight of fear that burdened her would finally be lifted. “You need to hear whatZoey has to tell you. Just do me a favor, Peter. Try to remain calm.”
