Chapter 92

Grace

I shook my head. "Margaret, really?"

"Goddess, I hope he's not here to tag along. I hate dead weight. And what happened to his face?"

"Grace!" Jackson said, marching towards me. "I think you owe me an apology."

Margaret looked at me. "Care to explain?"

"No... Not really."

She scoffed. "So much for your backbone."

It felt like a low blow, even if I sort of deserved it.

"You're going to change your mind," he said. "You need me. Whatever else you feel about me, whether you agree or not, you need me."

Margaret scoffed.

"I'm not changing my mind," I said. "You're a researcher, Jackson. You're not the only one who has your expertise."

He scoffed. "As if Wolfe Medical has the money to hire someone."

I set my jaw. "Well, considering how early it is in the project, I think I can find some."

"Are you really going to risk the development of this drug because of a bit of criticism?" He shook his head. "You're just proving my point. You being so sensitive is part of why Mooncrest is in the state it's in. You can't just let your emotions dictate your decisions."

His words stung, and I could feel anger bubbling within me. However, I couldn't deny that there was a kernel of truth in his statement. Everything that was happening right now was my fault because I hadn't had the sense to face my grief.

"You need me," Jackson said again. "You know that."

I set my jaw. Mad that I had nothing to argue against him with. The next debrief was supposed to be today. What if he'd already worked out a reformulation that would make things easier? I remembered his dossier. It was possible.

"I--"

"Alright, enough," Margaret said, stepping around me. She shoved Jackson back. He stumbled back down the path.

"Hey--"

"I've put up with a lot and kept my mouth shut about a lot of it, but I'm not going to stand here and let you pull this shit when we have work to do."

"You--"

"I am so sick of men like you, werewolves, lycans, humans, who think they can just show up in the last inning and take credit for winning the game." Margaret hissed, pushing him back towards his car until his back hit the car. I was stunned. I knew I was stronger than Jackson, but to see Margaret, who was easily in her sixties, push him around like this was a shock.

"You think Grace needs people like you?" She asked.

"Get off me, or you're going to regret it."

"Try me, 'wolf."

He growled and swung. "Fucking, lycan--"

His head flew back with a loud crack. Blood went flying from his nose as he collapsed to the ground.

"I'm going to call the police."

"Go ahead. Have yourself arrested for trespassing!"

"Grace--"

"Don't you call for her help when you showed up here like that!" She snarled down at him. "You disgust me, and you're lucky Charles isn't here, but don't worry, I can take care of you myself."

"Margaret," I said, reaching her and pulling her back. It felt like trying to move a boulder. She didn't move at all.

"How dare you question Grace's decisions when you don't have the emotional range, or the mental capacity, to even comprehend the kind of decisions she's had to make because piece of shit men like you!"

Jackson pushed himself to his feet.

"I'm not here to talk to you, old lady."

"I wouldn't waste my breath, and you aren't here to talk to Grace either. She has nothing to say to you."

"Margaret--"

"You can't speak for her." He looked at me. "Is that what's going on? You're not just letting lycan men talk for you now, but lycan women too?"

I bristled, and Margaret shoved him back.

"Grace has more important things to spend her energy on than a half-bit fraud."

His eyes widened. "What--"

"Margaret, what do you mean?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

"I can only assume you fired this asshole for HR reasons, but he was going to be on his way out as soon as he showed up to the debrief empty-handed and full of shit," Margaret growled.

"If I'm not on the project, I'll tell everyone who will listen, and I know a lot of companies that will--"

Margaret burst into laughter. "And what are you going to tell them, Jackson? The contents of a freshman-level magical textbook? You're nothing but hot air."

He turned bright red. "You--You--"

"Grace has never worked anywhere by Wolfe Medical, but I have." Margaret looked back at me. "I promised you my dedication if you showed me yours, and you have... There was no way I was going to let this idiot have access to the core research without being sure of his qualifications and integrity."

"You sabotaged me!"

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes and turned back to Jackson. "I tested you, and you failed. Seraphina tested you, and you failed. I was looking forward to watching you get escorted out of Wolfe Medical or hexed if Seraphina was in the mood, but this will do just as well."

"Tested him how?" I asked. "You mean he hasn't seen any of the research?"

"Not a page. I never shared any substantial data with Jackson," she explained patiently. "Neither did Seraphina. I've been keeping a close eye on the situation, and it seems Jackson hadn't been around Wolfe Medical as much as he claimed."

My heart sank as her words sank in. I looked at Jackson.

"But the lab logs in the library, and the receptionist…" I began, trying to make sense of the conflicting information.

Margaret waved off my concerns with a dismissive gesture. "Grace, my dear, I had access to the logs as well. I kept a close watch on Jackson's activities or lack thereof. What you saw were likely sporadic appearances meant to maintain appearances."

"She's already admitted to sabotaging me. I--"

"You haven't even gotten through the primer I gave you after I looked into your resume. You've never even worked with magical formulations, let alone reformulations. All the divisions you worked in were for human medications."

Jackson stammered, but he said nothing. I recognized the look on his face: he'd been caught. I almost wanted to laugh.

"So, you mean to tell me that Jackson made all those threats and accusations without even having the basic knowledge of magical formulation?" I asked incredulously.

Margaret shared in my amusement, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "Precisely. He had a lot of catching up to do, and he hasn't been catching up. I can only imagine he was going to try and bluff his way through the project, hoping someone else would pick up the slack or that you would show him some mercy."

I couldn't help but admire Margaret's no-nonsense approach and her unwavering support. I laughed as the absurdity of it sunk in.

"It's so ridiculous that I can't even be angry," I said, shaking my head. "I've been worried about how to replace you all this time, and... And you're not even worth replacing?"

I wiped my eyes. "Have you even put in enough hours in the lab to get paid?"

"I--"

"How long was I supposed to be fooled?" I asked. "Were you just planning to be a werewolf version of Devin? Figuring that you could skate by the way he did because I've known you longer?"

I laughed again. "Jackson, I would never date you, and you're talking about my and my kids' livelihood. I was twenty-something and grieving when I met Devin."

I dabbed at my eyes. "Are you fucking serious?"

I chuckled. "Go away, Jackson--"

"I--"

"Or I can call the police on you for trespassing."

He sneered at me, wiping the blood from his nose. "You'll regret this."

"I regret giving you my copy of the primer," Margaret said.

He flipped her off and got into his car before speeding off.

I looked at Margaret. "Thank you."

She smirked as the chauffeur car pulled up.

"Be glad it was me and not Charles. Though, I think you would have enjoyed that more."

I huffed, and we got in, heading to Wolfe Medical.

The debrief and all the work I'd had to do at Wolfe Medical and for the pack had made the day go by quickly, but I was exhausted by the time I got home. As I got home, my mind still churned with the events that had unfolded with Jackson, the anger simmering beneath the surface. But as I crossed the threshold and breathed in the familiar scent of home, I felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over me.

Jackson's scent was completely gone.

I dropped my bag by the door and ventured further into the house, the tension in my shoulders gradually easing. And there, in the hallway, I found Eason diligently cleaning Jackson's former room. I couldn't help but smile at the sight. Eason had a habit of immersing himself in cleaning when he needed to work through his frustrations. It was a familiar coping mechanism, one that had been a constant throughout our lives.

"Seems like some things never change," I remarked, my voice laced with a fondness that warmed my heart.

Eason grinned, his hands busy with the cleaning supplies. "Well, Richard wasn't too happy with Jackson's scent lingering around, so I figured I'd give the room a good scrubbing. You know, for a peaceful night's sleep."

I sensed a hint of deception in his words, but before I could press about it, I heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Charles had returned home. My heart swelled with relief at the thought of seeing him again after what felt like an eternity apart.

"You should probably go properly, PG-13-greet your hubby. Cecil might wake up."

I scoffed and headed downstairs to see him.

Then, I saw his expression and froze in place.

"What's wrong?"