20. Garrison

Chapter 20

Garrison

S omeone bumps into my back.

They mutter an apology. A semi could be hurtling toward me and I still wouldn't turn, much less get out of the way.

The last time Blaine smiled was…

Years ago. Maybe. Certainly before Violet.

I should be walking the party, scanning for threats, doing my job.

Yet here I am, watching a couple leaning against a wall, not speaking. Just standing side by side with a few inches separating them.

For once, I don't give a shit about my job. About security. About anything .

I stay right where I am, nestled beside a table covered with tiny canapés and champagne flutes, absorbing a sight I never thought I would ever see again.

Both failed to check in and I'd been on my way to chew Blaine out for not doing his job. And no, the hypocrisy of what I'm doing—or not doing—has not passed me by.

Instead, I'd watched everything play out.

The woman with the sultry smile as she walked over to Blaine, then halted, her face twisting in disgust before she turned away.

Blaine's fixed smile as the woman told her friend what happened.

Resa coming out of nowhere, snatching up a glass of red wine and flinging it at the woman's dress before I could throw the woman outside like I'd been on my way to.

It's not the first time someone has said something like that to Blaine and I swore I wouldn't let it happen again.

His decision to retreat from the world was a gradual process. It didn't happen overnight. Blaine isn't ugly. He wasn't before the car crash and he isn't now. But before the car crash and the burns, he couldn't enter a room without a woman making eyes at him.

They still make eyes at him, but the nature of those stares has changed. Now someone looks at him and he assumes they're staring at him for all the wrong reasons.

Like what happened with Resa in the kitchen.

He didn't want to come to this party, but he wanted to do something for Resa, maybe as an apology for scaring her in the kitchen. Even if he didn't say it. I knew. And this is what he gets. More stares and more comments, like he's the sum of his scars.

I'd wanted to stride over there, grip that woman by her arm—or, more ungentlemanly, by her throat—and drag her out of the room.

I hadn't needed to because Resa was there, back straight, hands fisted, ready to go to war for Blaine. I protect my pack. It had never crossed my mind that a bruised and traumatized omega would fight just as hard to protect someone she didn't even trust.

I couldn't have chosen a better woman to be mine.

When everything had died down, I'd expected Blaine would find a reason to leave since Blaine doesn't do well with being the center of attention.

He didn't leave.

He leaned against that back wall, talking with Resa, getting her a drink, and that little smile he tamped down before Resa could see it.

But I'd seen it.

He'd peeked over at Resa as she sipped at her apple juice. And he'd smiled.

My earpiece crackles.

"Garrison. Got eyes on Resa?" Vaughn asks.

In an ordinary job, we'd all be on the same channel. This isn't an ordinary job. As Resa had dressed, we'd discussed how this party would go. She'd have an earpiece, but we didn't want to stress her out with every single report of trouble. So we have two channels.

Whatever Resa says in her earpiece, we will hear and get to her in case she's in trouble. But she hasn't been listening to our regular check ins and observations as we circled the room.

Other than the first round of check ins as Resa spoke with Everleigh, Blaine has been quiet. But he can hear.

Touching the piece, I turn away from Blaine and Resa before they spot me. "She's okay. I did a sweep a little while ago. She's with Blaine."

"Any reason why a woman just stalked out of here in a stained white dress cursing an omega bitch?" Frost's voice comes through my mouthpiece next.

"I'll explain later. If she tries to come back in, make it crystal clear the only way that will happen is over my dead body. And if she is still stubborn, feel free to show her you're carrying."

Silence.

"I take it something happened," Frost says.

It's not like me to be anything less than professional. After what that woman said to one of mine, I'm not in the mood for professional. "We'll talk about it after."

A shoulder bumps mine and Rune drawls, "When were you going to tell me that she's your scent match?"

"I wasn't. Yet. How did you know?"

He shrugs. "Call it a lucky guess."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Maybe because I just caught you grinning at her like a lovesick fool."

Maybe I had a hint of a smile, but grinning like a lovesick fool?

"And you're sure it was me you were looking at?"

"You think I don't recognize the look? It's not like I haven't seen Kylian or Cian wearing one just like it when they look at Everleigh." Rune rakes a hand through his hair. "They'd accuse me of the same thing, so there's that." He nudges my shoulder again and nods at the entrance to the ballroom. "You got five minutes? I'd like to talk to you about something."

I spare Blaine and Resa another glance. Neither has moved.

I touch my earpiece. "I'm leaving the room for the next five minutes. Stay alert."

Rune leads the way out of the ballroom, through the foyer and into their den. I saw Everleigh dancing with Cian so we don't bump into her on our way. He heads straight for a drinks trolley and holds up a bottle. "Drink?"

I eye the label. Macallan 18. It's good whiskey but I'm not here to drink. I shake my head. "Need to stay sharp. So this talk…"

He snorts. "You need to learn the subtle art of small talk, Garrison."

I raise my brow. "We have met before, right?"

"You also need to learn the art of taking it easy." He pours two fingers in each glass and offers me one. "Here. Call it southern hospitality. There's no way of saying no without offending me."

I take it but I don't drink from it.

He perches on the edge of the windowsill and sips from his glass. "I'm guessing there's a reason you kept quiet about Resa being your mate?"

I consider lying, maybe making something up, but I don't have many people in my life I can be open and honest with. Just my pack.

"She's struggling with the idea of being scent matched," I explain. "Given what she must have suffered, I can't blame her."

Rune hums in agreement. "Have you given her a place that's hers? Everleigh has omega territory."

"Omega territory?" I almost down my unwanted whiskey. "You didn't buy her an island, did you?"

And why am I considering if that's something Resa might like?

He chuckles. "Nope. Just land marked off as hers AKA her bedroom. She keeps saying we can go into her room whenever, but we ask before we take one step inside. We haven't gotten into a fight yet. If and when that happens, it's important she knows she has somewhere no alpha can go. Omega territory."

That is… not a bad idea.

"She has a room." It's a guest room. A little plain, but the interior designer I hired assured us it was elegant and inviting. I found it boring.

Our home has always functioned more as a workspace than an actual home, so the rest of the house is equally devoid of personality. We rarely relax in the den, and we eat at the dining table in the kitchen, or we hit the gym to work out. Otherwise, we're working. "And Vaughn gave her a knife."

Rune's glass stops inches from his mouth. "A knife ?"

"She needs it to feel safe."

His surprise melts away, and he nods as if he gets it. "Then it sounds like you're well on your way to winning her trust."

"That would be true," I admit. "If she didn't have a fiancé waiting for her."

Rune winces. "A fiancé? Fuck ."

I nod.

Sympathy pulls on the corners of his eyes. "That's a shit deal. And she's going back to him?"

"She says she is." I'm determined to convince her otherwise.

"You haven't thought about tracking him down and cutting his throat, thereby eliminating all threats?"

"I have." More times than I could count.

"Garrison." Rune loses his smile. "You are one man, and as hard as I try to keep my thoughts to myself, you don't make it easy. You need to learn to relax ."

So I take a sip. Not because of Rune's pushiness. Because he's coming from a place of concern. Because he's a friend.

"Now, what did you drag me in here to talk about?"

"I need a favor," Rune says.

"Anything."

He rises from his perch and crosses over to a black filing cabinet. He sets his glass aside and opens the top drawer, retrieving a photograph, which he offers me. "This guy. Simon Marchant."

The man isn't familiar. He's in his late forties or early fifties with short light brown hair threaded with gray. Thin face with light brown eyes. "You need info, or you need me to find him?"

Rune picks up his glass and returns to his original position. "Need info. A background check as soon as you can. Everleigh's mom has started attending a community art college as part of her therapy. Everleigh said her mom mentioned a guy but clammed up as soon as Everleigh pushed to know more about him. Kylian hung around the college long enough to snap a picture, but we'd like to know more about him."

"What do you know so far?"

"That he's a teacher at the college, and he's been paying her mom a bit of attention."

My instincts sharpen. "What kind of attention?"

Sloane Eddiswood, Everleigh's biological father, locked Olive, Everleigh's mother, in a private clinic for decades. He hadn't been able to kill her, but he left her there, all to hide the fact he was involved with Asylum.

Olive will carry scars from that experience for the rest of her life. We still watch over Olive, and none of us want to see Olive suffer even more. If someone is looking to take advantage of her, we're determined to stop them.

"Not sure if it's the good kind or the bad kind yet. But?—"

"It's better we find that out now rather than later," I interrupt. "I'll have Blaine do the background check and Frost and Roman increase their hours watching over Olive. No one will hurt her."

"And Resa?" Rune eyes me curiously. "What do you intend to do about her?"

I tell him the same thing I told Blaine. The same thing I've told myself every day since our scent match materialized into our life when we were least expecting her.

"Convince her no one can make her happy like we can. Convince her to stay."

Rune nods at the glass in my hand and raises a blond brow. "Park the boss outside for five minutes and have a drink with a friend."

"And if there's trouble?"

Rune snorts. "After the way I just saw Resa square off against that woman, maybe we could leave her to handle security."

"Ah. How much did you see?"

His gaze hardens. "Enough to know I need to find out whose plus one that woman was and ban them from setting foot in our house ever again. This is our home, and Blaine is more welcome in it than someone like that."

And that is why Rune will always be more of a friend than a client, no matter how many times we've worked together in the past or will in the future.

I lift my glass in a toast. "I'll drink to that."