Page 84 of Wild Omega

I keep my gaze locked on Ricky over the agent’s shoulder. “Callisto Wren, his lawyer. What happened here?”

He nods as I show him my ID. “We’d like to know the same thing. A large male was reported fleeing bleeding from the scene after neighbors reported a domestic dispute. We found a runaway omega here in this apartment, but when we came up to investigate, this man was injured. He won’t give us any details to pursue his attacker.” He waves at a notepad and pen lying on the askew coffee table.

I hold up one finger. “An omega was found inthisapartment?”

He grimaces. “Well, no, she was on the steps outside.”

Rickon’s brows knit together with worry, and I hum under my breath. “Please make sure you’re accurate in your report, agent. What happened to the omega?”

“Our agents took her to the Bureau to get a statement. Then she’ll return to the Omega Center where she’ll be safe.”

Shit, did I literally just cross paths with Red? I glance over my shoulder. If she was so safe at the Center, why did she run away in the first place? I bite down on the question, knowing I can’t rush to any conclusions. At least I know where Red is. Right now, my best friend needs my attention.

Ozzie, Ricky’s boisterous parrot, stalks up and down his bars, jangling a brass bell and calling hello to me.

“Hello, Ozzie,” I offer limply. The bird cranes his neck and settles, even though it’s been months since we last saw each other. No doubt whatever happened spooked him too.

Rickon sits on the couch, his head tilted back onto the headrest while a paramedic examines his throat. My heart jumps with alarm. What happened to my beautiful, sensitive Ricky? I need answers right now, before this tightness in my chest explodes. I lock my gaze on my pale friend as the first responder pockets his instruments and steps back.

“If the urgent medical attention’s finished, I’d like to meet with my client. Alone.”

The agent glances over at the paramedic, who nods, and I wait by the door as they step outside. The agent pauses on his way out to whisper, “We need a name to track down his assailant, and this man should really get a checkup at the hospital. There could be additional damage to his carotid or even his spine.”

My austere persona fades away as the door closes, leaving me feeling winded, plus something else I can’t put my finger on.

I step over the blood and glass on the floor. “Fuck, Ricky!” I murmur, leaning over him with both hands braced on the back of the couch. Gently I peel the cold pack away from his neck. Pure rage boils hot inside me as I see the finger-shaped bruising ringing his throat. My arms quiver as I suppress the sudden desire to destroy everything in sight. Someone laid their hands on my sweet friend, and I’m going to find out who.

“Who did this to you?”

He looks up at me, his pale green eyes watery. Broken blood vessels leak through the whites, and I press my thumb to the corner of his brow, where traces of smeared eyeliner remain. He’s been crying. Rickon opens his mouth, but I cover it gently with my hand. If he speaks, he’ll hurt his bruised throat.

One-handed, I grab the notepad and pen and press it into his grip before sinking down on the sofa and pulling him in for a hug. Rickon would never hurt a fly, so why?

A sharp thought pierces me. “Was it Red?”

He shakes his head so violently I fear for his neck. I capture his cheeks between my palms to stop him. “Okay, okay, it wasn’t Red. I didn’t think so, but I had to check. Then tell me who did this, so I can put them in prison for life.”

Absently I stroke his soft skin. I know a couple of guys whose sentences I got reduced. They might be willing to do me a favor on the side to create a more permanent solution. I shake my head, clearing away my outrageous thoughts. I’m a lawyer for fuck’s sake.

Rickon’s face flushes and I draw back. Could the stress be giving him a fever? He picks up the pen.

Why do you smell like her?

“Well, that’s—” I shake my head. “That’s not important right now. Dammit, Ricky, tell me who hurt you!” I rearrange the pack around his neck, both for his benefit and so I don’t go insane from this hot pain tearing through my chest every time I see the dark bruising.

His hand quivers around the pen.I’m too ashamed.

Those simple words stab like a knife to my heart. Am I not trustworthy enough for him to tell me what’s been going on? No, it’s on me. I should’ve known if someone in his life posed a threat. Instead, I was oblivious. Busy.

I close my hands around his where he holds the pen. “Please, Ricky. Tell me before I lose my fucking mind. I haven’t been good to you, I know, but I want a chance to correct that. So tell me everything.”

His eyes widen and then sheen with tears. His hands shift and I release them so he can write.

He was my ex. I broke up with him a week ago, but he doesn’t take no for an answer well. He walked in on me and—His pen hesitates.

“Someone else?” I supply, grateful he’s being so careful for Red’s sake.

He nods.He walked in on me and someone else and thought he could join. When we refused, he got mad.

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