Page 81 of Wild Omega

My brows knit together. “You haven’t been sleeping?”

She shakes her head. Well, no wonder she drove into the fence and had a nervous breakdown. I open my mouth to say so, but then realize she must be aware.

“What’s been keeping you awake?”

“Oh, just the usual.” She shrugs it off like it’ll roll down her back. “You know.” She flashes me a tiny smile, but I feel like her watery blue eyes beg me for something.

Problem is, I don’t know what. The washed-out blue color of her eyes reminds me of Red and the uncomfortable pang in my chest deepens. Mom will freak out if I tell her I met an omega, but what else can I say? I got too busy with work to call my supposed scent match and check on her? Or Rickon. And my best friend seemed kind of pissed when I finally spoke to him.

As if reading my mind, Mom asks, “Have you seen Ricky recently? He called looking for a place to get riding lessons for someone. I thought you might know what he’s up to?”

A cold chill runs down my spine. Is someone out there sticking a doll that looks like me with voodoo pins? I press my hand into my throat, which suddenly feels scratchy. “No, not for a while. He’s been busy looking after his actress, and I’ve had my hands full with my cases.”

Mom’s face falls. “Oh, that’s a shame.”

I can’t even tell her Ricky found his scent match, because that’d lead to uncomfortable nagging for me to get one. Fuck, it’s like walking on eggshells to find a safe topic.

I clear my throat and lace my fingers together, so I don’t end up fidgeting. “We caught up for a drink a bit before your birthday. He was doing well.”

She nods, worrying her bottom lip through her teeth. “He’s a sweet boy, Calli. You should take better care of him.”

“He’s doing fine.” That little pinprick in my chest niggles again. Is Rickon really doing fine? How would I know if he wasn’t? Our last conversation didn’t end too well, and he hasn’t even sent me a movie-themed meme in several days, let alone a meaningful message.

Mom squeezes Lector’s hand, and he interrupts my daze. “Tell us about the cases you’re working on.”

Right, she’s given me a topic I can run wild with. “Just a couple weeks ago, the OCB busted a huge illegal omega trading ring a few hours north of here. They have so many cases they asked Harkman and Laurance for help, and your boy got assigned to the case.” I rest my hand on my chest.

“Oh, you’ll do a great job bringing them to justice.” Mom nods firmly. “But I hope you slow down soon.”

I deflate, ignoring her nagging. “Well, unfortunately we’re missing some key evidence and one omega has gone AWOL, so that’s a problem.”

Mom tips her head. “Oh, is that related to the omega the OCB are looking for?”

An eerie premonition flutters through my soul. “What omega?”

Lector grabs the TV remote and aims it at the screen over the foot of Mom’s bed. “She’s been all over the news.”

The midday romantic dramaDays of Our Heatsflickers to life with its characteristic hazy-edged screen, like everyone’s living in a cloud. Must be nice. After a minute, a scroll bar runs across the bottom, and there in miniature portrait, sits my Red, unsmiling and cold compared to when I last saw her. The tickertape states she’s considered vulnerable and anyone with information should contact the OCB’s missing persons hotline.

My insides twist and I blink, my world shifting once more. “Wha—?” Shouldn’t she be tucked away safely with Ricky? My mind scrambles back to the day we met. She had no idea where she was and didn’t have any money. Not to mention a color for a name. I wrote my credit card number on her arm, for crying out loud.

And what if she’s the missing omega from the cases? Held at an illegal clinic, with no family, no pack, no love. What if she’s the one—?

For a moment I can’t breathe. Heavy pressure squeezes my chest, and I gasp, dark and light sensations warring through my body. I jump to my feet and snatch my jacket off the back of the chair. “Sorry, Mom. I think I gotta go.”

She gets a wistful look on her face, but I’m too dazed to process. “Oh. All right, son. Thanks for coming by when you’re so busy.”

I drop a kiss into her hair and stride out the door, breaking into a jog when I reach the empty hallway. It can’t possibly be her. Please, please let me be wrong.

The Omuber driver waited near the hospital as requested, and I wave my hand furiously to signal him as I cross the road, not waiting for the pedestrian crossing at the lights.

“I need to go back to the OCB office, immediately.”

Dread winds through my belly and slowly up my neck, burning my throat and leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Every car on the road seems determined to go at a snail’s pace today, and I thump the back of the front passenger seat in frustration, earning me a wary look from the driver.

“Can you go any faster?” I hiss.

“I can only do the speed limit, sir,” the man answers, mouth curving down in obvious displeasure.

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