𝐃𝐞́𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐫 || 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐒𝐨𝐨

Chapter 1

Seokmin pushed open the familiar door to the sheriff’s office, reaching a hand back to catch it before it could slam shut. A year ago, he hadn’t known what the inside of this place even looked like. Now he felt like he could find his way around blindfolded. He did his best to hold his anger at bay as he strode toward the desk, nodding to Trudy, the clerk. This wasn’t the time or the place to seem like he wasn’t in control.

“Morning, Dr. Lee,” the deputy greeted him, wandering out of the office. There was a newspaper in his hand, half-done crossword visible.

Must have been a slow morning.

“Good morning, Deputy Jackson. What’s the damage this time?”

The deputy gave him a rueful grin and shook his head. “Just a few broken glasses and a chair. In Vernon’s defense, he didn’t start it. Only stepped in when the guy who did was about to pound Grit’s face into the pavement.”

Vernon never could resist a fight, no matter the reason for it.

“Charges?”

Deputy Jackson glanced back at the office he’d just left and lowered his voice.

“Not this time. But tell him to keep his nose clean, hey? Sheriff Donnelly doesn’t like it when the same faces keep popping up every month or two.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message,” Seokmin promised.

Deputy Jackson showed him to the cells, where he counted no less than five guys and one woman sleeping it off. Busy night for their normally quiet town. He glanced at Thomas, who shrugged.

“Some big family get-together camping out in Blakely Park. A group descended on the local watering holes, and let’s just say some of them couldn’t hold their liquor. Sheriff had to get backup from the next town over.”

The deputy banged twice on the bars of Vernon’s cell. It didn’t escape Seokmin’s notice that they’d put him in there alone, squashing the other four guys into the same cell. That was rule one when it came to alphas: respect their personal space. Clearly, the sheriff hadn’t been taking any chances last night.

He took a closer look at Vernon. The alpha gave a good impression of being asleep: slumped against the wall, his head tipped back against the bare bricks, and his eyes closed. There were bruises on his knuckles, and Seokmin could make out the faint outline of a black eye in the gloom.

“My ride here?” Vernon asked, not moving a muscle or even opening his eyes.

“Let’s go,” Seokmin told him shortly. He didn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary.

He thanked Deputy Jackson on the way out, a hand on Vernon’s shoulder as they walked toward the door. As soon as they were outside, Vernon shrugged his hand off and stalked toward Seokmin’s car, making a beeline for the driver’s seat.

“Not a chance in hell,” Seokmin said. “You smell like a brewery.”

“Some idiot tipped his drink all over me. I barely touched my third beer.”

“Not the point. The sheriff sees you driving out of here, he’ll be fit to be tied.”

Grumbling, Vernon stormed around the car and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Nothing like driving a fast car to clear your head,” he said, rolling down the window and letting the wind run through his hair as Seokmin pulled out of the parking lot.

Seokmin let silence reign for a few minutes before he tackled things head-on.

“We can’t keep doing this.” He glanced at Vernon out of the corner of his eye. The alpha tensed at his words. “You’ve got to find a better way to occupy your time than getting into bar fights.”