Page 72 of The Denver Alpha

I groan in frustration, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “You can’t be serious.”

“There are things I have to do on my end to un-ring this bell, and they have to be done cleanly,” he replies. “But I won’t rest until I get to the bottom of this, you have my word. For now, just cooperate, and try not to let anyone make a scene. If this gets out to the media, my hands will be tied…”

I lower the phone from my ear and mash my finger over the call button, ending it before I fly off the handle on the police chief and make things worse than they already are. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I drag in several deep breaths, trying to calm myself as I feel my wolf pushing his way to the surface.

This is fine.

It’s all a misunderstanding, and it’s just one night.

The chief hasn’t let me down yet, so I’m sure he can get this sorted out by morning.

With one last steadying breath, I turn back to look toward the main floor of the club, watching the officers fan out through the crowd. Their appearance has already spooked the clubgoers. Several of them abandon their drinks and flee toward the exit, and after the lights turn up, the music shuts off, and one of the cops climbs up into the DJ booth to announce that the party is shutting down, pandemonium erupts through the rest of the club.

So much for not making a scene.

As panic starts to take hold, a flood of people pushes toward the exit and my concern shifts from the issue with the police to something much more important.

Juliet.

She’s out there in the crowd somewhere.

I need to protect her from this.

I need to get her out of here.

But I also need to handle this situation with the police and ensure nobody gets hurt or trampled trying to leave my club.

Fuck.

My head spins and my stomach churns with indecision. Against my better judgment, I’m about to abandon my post at the front of the club to search for Juliet when I spot a familiar face in the crowd.

“Tayla!” I shout to get her attention and she whips her head around in my direction, eyes lighting up in response to hearing her name from my mouth.

I beckon her with the wave of a hand, and she shoves her way through the throng of people, eager to get to me.

“You still wanna try to make things right, earn some of your privileges back?” I ask once she’s within earshot.

Contrary to Juliet’s accusation, I didn’t go easy on Tayla Bancroft when I imposed punishment for her part in the shoplifting incident. If anything, I was perhaps harsher than I should’ve been. I stripped her of multiple pack privileges- visiting the packhouse, her luxury apartment in the newest, most desirable complex in our compound, and her job on the marketing team for the pack’s nightclubs. At the time, I made it clear that she could earn those privileges back with good behavior, and now’s her chance.

Tayla nods enthusiastically, all ears for my request.

“Then get Juliet and Shay out of here,” I say firmly. “You know where the back exit is?”

She hesitates for a beat, her distaste evident in her expression. But then she slowly nods in affirmation. “Yeah,” Tayla sighs, hanging her head. “I’ve got it.”

I nod back at her in confirmation. “Go.”

A look of determination comes across her face and she spins around, heading back into the fray to find the girls.

As soon as she disappears through the crowd, I pull out my phone again and call Sam to fill him in on what’s happening, reassuring him that Shay is being taken care of. He agrees to meet Shay and Jules back at the packhouse, so I end the call and stuff my phone into my pocket again, refocusing on getting my club cleared out as orderly as possible.

Though there’s nothing orderly about a bunch of drunk people freaking out and trying to shove past one another. It’s a fucking struggle, and by the time the last of the patrons are out the door and I finish up things with the cops, I feel like I’ve just run a marathon. In less than an hour I’m completely exhausted, ready to just get the fuck home and deal with the rest of this shit tomorrow.

I help Jason lock up before heading out to my car, pulling my phone out of my pocket on the way to check for any messages. When the screen lights up, I see that I’ve got a bunch of missed calls- I must’ve accidentally turned it on silent at some point. I stop short, pausing to scroll through the list and finding that most of them are from Sam. My pulse immediately kicks up a notch as I realize that something must be wrong.

I’m about to hit the button to call him back when his car screeches into the lot, coming to a stop right in front of me.

“Cole!” Sam calls out through the open window, throwing his door open and jumping out.