Page 88 of Wild Omega

I shudder and wrap my arms around myself. I know a thing or two about how that kind of death feels. Thought I was gonna die so many times back at the House Bitches.

Samantha chews on her bottom lip. “That’s just one of a hundred reasons why I’ll stick to the Omega Center protocols every time, Red. I’m sorry you saw that report, but it’s just the preliminary evaluation. Every omega coming out of that illegal hub is a high-risk case for falling into further abuse, so we have more steps to go through before your release into society. Please, let me make sure that tragedy won’t happen to you?”

I hate the pleading in her voice because it shoves all her baggage onto me. Who knows if that story’s even true? Could be a guilt trip to make me compliant. But heats are no joke.

I fold my arms across my chest. Problem is, I know the kind of shit that went down at the House of Bitches. I knew I was trapped there, no matter what I did, and I could never talk about it. The few times I did, the omegas disappeared within days. For all I know, this “Lisa” might’ve been one of them.

I want to throw the chair through the window and leap out or bulldoze my way through the OCB agents outside the door like I did with Rickon’s ex, but I remain rooted in my seat, frigid. I already know no amount of talking’s going to buy my freedom.

The only option left is to hope Rickon keeps his word.

I clench my jaw. “Then can we get out of here? ’Cause I’d like a shower and a meal, and sitting here’s making my ass go numb.”

Samantha pulls something out of her pocket and holds it out, her mouth twisted wryly. I smirk as I grab the familiar Center wristband and slot it over my hand. “So it didn’t get on a plane? Pity.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you did that.” Thankfully she doesn’t seem pissed. Is it possible she’s actually relieved to see me again? Samantha points to the agent waiting by the door. “Before we leave, this man needs your statement about what happened at the house where you were staying.”

I nod curtly. The sooner I get out of here, the better.

A knock at the door interrupts us and an agent pops his head in and signals Samantha. “Ma’am, I have a man on the line who claims he’s the lady’s lawyer.”

Samantha whips back to look at me.

I can’t resist a faint smirk since I only know one lawyer in this cold, cruel world. “Is that Callisto Wren?” I ask. Talk about poetic.

The agent jerks in recognition and glances at the other agent in the room before answering. “Y-yes.”

“He’s my lawyer,” I say.

Samantha scrubs a hand over her face. “I see you work fast, Red.”

I shrug, a faint bubbly sensation running through my chest. “It’s in the name; Red goes faster. I’d like to take that call.”

They can’t refuse me, and a moment later the phone on the side bench rings. I pick it up, my heart pounding. “Wild omega hotline, you’re speaking with Red Jones. How may I help you?”

An indrawn breath whispers down the line. “Red Jones? I like the sound of that.”

Damn, his voice sounds good. I shrug even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, has a nice ring to it. Could use a little polishing.” I swallow my nerves. “How is he?”

“He’s pretty bruised but doing okay. The paramedics are taking him to the hospital now as a precaution, and I told him to stay the night. I hear I have you to thank for stepping in.”

I grip the phone with both hands as a nervous shiver runs through me, releasing a lump of tension in my chest. Worry for my alpha had me twisted up inside. “I just did what any girl would do when her mate’s threatened.”

I like the way the wordmaterolls off my tongue, but it reminds me the man on the other end of this phone is also supposed to be my mate. The knowledge sours my happiness.

“I’m not sure just anyone could chase off a big man like that alone, but well done.” Callisto goes silent for a long moment. “I have a feeling it’s not the first time Ricky’s been hurt.”

Wrinkles score deep in my brow. I turn my back on Samantha and the agent, huddling into the phone for a false sense of privacy. “You really don’t know him that well, do you?”

Callisto clears a cough. “No. I have a lot of mistakes to make up for. Where are you now?”

I’m still annoyed with him, but the melodic thrum of his voice soothes some of the anxiety battering at my skull. “OCB office, about three floors up on the west side.”

He chuckles. “You can see the sun getting low?”

I glance through the window at the nearby high rises, which flare a burnished bronze in the sunset, and smile. “Yep.”

“I’m sorry I can’t say ‘duck’ and come swinging in through the window.”

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