Page 83 of Wild Omega

If Red’s escaped from the Omega Center, she might need legal representation. Maybe, if I make myself useful, she’ll overlook our poor start.

When I stop shivering, I crawl out from under the desk and carefully put the pieces of glass back in the bag. I can’t bring myself to be thankful for so many other vials of evidence. Each one came at a greater cost than I can wrap my head around.

Someone knocks at my door, and I wipe my tears away on my sleeve. My face must be super puffy, so I can’t hide the fact I cried. “What is it?”

The door creaks open. “Hey, Callisto, I need—shit, what’s that amazing smell?” George, the lawyer who tried to catch me before, pokes his head in.

I hold up the evidence bag. “I accidentally dropped this, and it spilled.” He’s taking in my tear-stained face with wide eyes, so I clear my throat and add, “I, ah, l felt terrible about it, especially after knowing how it’s extracted.”

“Oh, man. Sure, but that’s not your fault. And damn, it smells divine in here. I wouldn’t blame you for having a little private go-go time, if you know what I mean.” He chuckles. “Actually, give me the bag and I’ll clear it up with the team leader, after a private sesh.”

Heat roars through me and I lurch toward him, grabbing his collar in my oily fist. He gasps.

“We do not enjoy ourselves on their suffering,” I grind out, shaking with the powerful desire to hurt him. My alpha scent flares thickly. “Understood?”

“Yeah, sure, I got it. Just calm yourself, okay?” He taps on my bunched fists warily. “I’m sorry, Callisto, it was a bad joke.”

The apology’s devoid of any true repentance. I know that kind of placating voice all too well. I’ve used it hundreds of times with difficult clients who just needed to be soothed until the situation could be turned around. And he wasn’t joking at all.

Holding in a sigh, I release his collar. If I cause trouble now, I’ll get kicked off the case, and that can’t happen. “I’m sorry too. I think that scent stirred my aggression a little.”

He nods. “I know what you mean. These cases are the hardest to work on. We do it all the time, but you might not be used to it.” He scratches his head, and then sniffs his palm where the oil on my hands touched him. “A big firm like Harkman and Laurance probably avoids these kind of sewer litigations.”

Unfortunately, he’s correct. “And yet these are the most important ones,” I muse, more to myself than him. Red’s scent caresses me and I remember the urgency of what I was doing. I lift the streaked bag containing the broken glass. “Thanks, but I’ll submit this. What did you need me for?”

George lets me know one of the case’s trial dates got moved and I jot the changes into my calendar before submitting the destroyed evidence to the team leader. His assurances it’s no big deal because we have plenty more bite cruelly into my conscience. Not only because they came from Red, but because she’s also wanted by the OCB, and I think I know where she is. I hurry out of the office and wave down a cab. I’ll never betray her trust again.

I try to practice my apologies over and over on the drive, but my words don’t seem to fit together. My insides still feel shaky from whatever happened to me in the office and my mind just spins in circles, yawing on the memory of meeting Red. And turning my back on her.

“Sir, are you sure this is where you need to be?”

The driver’s query pulls me from my turmoil. Red and blue lights flash across the street where OCB vehicles cluster in front of Rickon’s apartment. My heart dives into my throat.

“Yes.” I fling the door open and race onto the footpath. I’m too late, again. The OCB found them first. Then I stumble and the heat drains from my body as I spot an ambulance pulled up on the sidewalk. Why do they need an ambulance to collect a runaway omega?

Chapter thirty-four

Callisto

An agent blocks my path to the stairs outside Ricky’s place. “Sorry, sir, but this area’s closed off.”

I shake my head. “I’m their lawyer.” As the phrase slides off my tongue, I wonder if I even deserve to say those words. Well, whatever gets me inside.

The officer scans me up and down, and I see the doubt blazing in his hard gaze. “Whose lawyer?”

After spending an hour crying and spilling haze oil on my shirt, I’ve probably never looked less like a lawyer in my life. I fish out my wallet and flash my registration card. “I’m here for Rickon Jones, who lives in that apartment.” The delay chafes me as I point to the second floor. Best not to mention Red if he’s got her hidden away somewhere.

The agent scowls at the card, holding it close like he’s short-sighted, then returns the ID and gives me a nod. “Maybe you can help us get some answers.”

Not a good sign if the OCB doesn’t know what’s going on. As I pound up the stairs two at a time, I notice spots of fresh blood on the concrete. Did Red resist arrest enough to get hurt? I growl under my breath. If so, I’ll charge the entire OCB for excessive force.

The door stands wide open, revealing an agent snapping photos of more spots of blood darkening the pale brown floorboards and a squawking parrot. Rickon sits on the couch with a medical officer putting something around his neck. Heightened scents linger in the room, but it’s hard to pick them apart with Red’s haze soaked into my skin.

The moment he spots me, Ricky’s tight expression dissolves in relief and he croaks something which might be my name.

My relief turns bitter as I catch sight of the dark bruising around his neck. His green eyes are bloodshot and his chest heaves with labored breaths.

The OCB agent in the room steps forward, holding up one hand. “You are?”

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