Jeremiah’s POV
“Get your hands off me, Rita,” I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous level.
I didn’t wait for her to comply. I grabbed her wrists and peeled her arms away from my neck. She was heavy with the scent of expensive gin and desperation. My wolf stirred in the back of my mind, his mental growl vibrating through my chest. He sensed someone watching us, but when I glanced over my shoulder, the shadows on the deck were still.
Rita didn't take the hint. She stumbled forward, her fingers digging into the fabric of my suit jacket. Her eyes were glassy, and her composure was starting to slide. “Jeremiah, please. Just listen to me for one second. We were so good together until you—”
I cut her off by gripping her elbow. I didn’t squeeze hard enough to bruise, but I made sure sh
