watched, she reached for the phone that sat on the counter next to the register.
“Scott,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You can either go now, or I can call your dad – and the cops. But I really don’t want to do that if I don’t have to.”
At the mention of his father and the police, the man – Scott, apparently – momentarily stopped struggling.
“Fine,” he ground out, after a long, tension-filled moment. “I’ll go – but don’t think I’ll forget this, Annie. You know this shop’ll be mine soon enough. So look forward to being out of a job once that happens.”
Beau didn’t exactly like the sound of that, but he figured an apology was probably out of the question.
“If you’re done, I’ll let you go now,” he said, calmly and quietly. “And the first thing you’re going to do is walk out the door. Got it?”
The only response he got was an angry huff, but Beau hoped it was clear to Scott by now that all the wriggling in the world wasn’t going to get him free of the hold Beau had him in.
He let him go, releasing his arm, and Scott took a couple of stumbling steps away from him before righting himself. He turned, angry and humiliated, his eyes skittering over Beau before looking past him at Annie.
“You remember what I said,” he sneered, pointing at her. “You won’t always have someone here to protect you. You got that?”
Annie didn’t answer him. She maintained her dignity in the face of his fury, simply staring him down, but Beau could see the way her breath quickened, and she swallowed with what was obviously fear. Nonetheless, she didn’t blink, didn’t blanch – until finally Scott, after one last scowl, turned and slammed open the bakery door and stormed out into the snow.
As soon as he was gone, Annie seemed to sag over with relief, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Are you okay?” Beau asked her, crossing the floor to the counter. He only had the vaguest idea of what he’d walked in on, but still, he knew enough to know that no one deserved to be spoken to the way Scott had been speaking to Annie.
Annie glanced up at him now, her green eyes wide as she licked her lips, a wary expression coming over her face. Something inside Beau felt pained to see it – it was clear that Annie wasn’t used to trusting people.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, pulling herself upright again, as if trying to disguise the fact she’d been relieved to see Scott gone. “He was just… well, I guess you saw it.” She paused, biting her lip. “Uh, thanks. For getting him to leave. I appreciate it. But you must’ve just come in here to buy something. What can I get for you?”
Annie had pulled herself together remarkably quickly, reverting to what must have been her calm, polite customer service persona. But Scott could still see the tension in her shoulders and the clench of her jaw. She was far from calm, even if she was doing a good imitation of it.
She needs our help. We must help her. We must.
Inside him, his hippogriff was stamping its back hooves and screeching, tossing its head wildly. Something had gotten its dander up. Of course, Beau knew about its protective instincts. That was just part of being a hippogriff – or a shifter in general. His instinct to protect was part of what helped him do his job. But he’d never seen it react this way to anyone before.
“Well, I did come in for some cookies and cake,” Beau said. “But if you’re in any kind of trouble, then I’d like to do what I can to help.”
Annie’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at him, her full, pink lips parting slightly. “I – no, no, that won’t be necessary,” she said quickly. “Really. Let me just get what you need so you can –”
“Annie, isn’t your shift over though?”
Beau and Annie both turned at the sound of a voice from the side of the shop. A woman with black hair and a wide smile stood there, boxes of sugar cookies in her arms. She put them down on the counter and turned her smile toward Beau.
“She’s done for the day! So she’s free if you wanted to ask her any questions. You could do it over coffee or something. Couldn’t he, Annie?”
“Christina…” Annie muttered, shooting her what could only be described as