Page 118 of Your Wild Omega

“The country’s best criminal defense lawyer.” I swallow a lump. “Yeah, I heard you.” Normally I wouldn’t be intimidated, no matter who the counsel was, but this case isn’t like other cases. I should’ve known Ray would have the money to employ someone like Pike. He must have made millions selling Red’s haze over the years.

Hale hisses in annoyance. “I’ll have to get the list of witnesses submitted by the end of the week. Should I put Red Jones’s name on it?”

“No.” I shake my head, forgetting he can’t see me. “Leave her off.” The traumatized omega is trying to move forward, not get dragged back into the depths of that hell. I’ll take care of this myself, one way or another.

I shake off my paralysis and drop into the taxi. “Can you stay late tonight?”

“Sounds like a whole bunch of late nights,” Hale mutters darkly.

And he’s right, because we don’t have a case at all.

Chapter forty-four

Rickon

Dawn breaks through a bank of gray clouds, turning windows throughout the city pink and gold. I cover a yawn as I pad into the kitchen to get a jump start on the day before the others wake. I won’t let Red go to work alone again. When I think about all the things that could happen to her, it sets my teeth on edge. Thankfully the director messaged early yesterday morning to tell her to take the day off after her fall, so I’ve now spent most of two days snuggling in bed.

I brush my fingers over the sore spot on my hip. My body suggests Zack’s obsessive attention to the bond mark might be too much, but the new, faint thrum in my chest says it’s worth the price. Not only do I know more about Zack than ever, but I have a direct link to my omega. Life couldn’t be better.

The refrigerator seal exhales softly as I open the door only to discover almost empty shelves. And no sign of milk. I double-check the pantry for powdered milk, but that’s non-existent too.

With a weary sigh, I stuff a few cloth shopping bags in the back pocket of my white skinny jeans and tug sneakers on before slipping out the front door. We can get more groceries delivered tonight, but for now I’ll grab some essentials from the local deli.

Feels odd to leave the apartment after two days of being inside, not to mention minus any makeup. Thankfully no sane people will be awake at six a.m. Or so I thought, because in the foyer I run into a couple of tradespeople signing in with the concierge.

I take in their toolboxes and grin. “Hi, are you doing the project on the roof?”

“Yes, sir,” one man says, tipping his hard hat politely.

“Just Rickon,” I say, offering my hand. “Callisto might have mentioned me?”

“Of course.” He shakes my hand, dwarfing it in his big, calloused palms. “You did the design for this job, right?”

I nod. “Most of it.”

He brightens. “Have you been up to see the progress?”

I wince, mentally tracking back through lost time. “Honestly, I’ve had a few things going on and didn’t realize you’d started.”

He shrugs one shoulder toward the service elevator. “Want to come take a look? I’ve got a few questions for you about product selection.” He scratches at the wisps of hair sticking out around his ears and grins. “Was gonna email you about them tomorrow, but this works well.”

I check my phone to see if I can spare half an hour and still get the family moving before go time. Should be able to wrangle it. I nod and shoot a message off to Red to let her know I’m out getting groceries in case she wakes up and worries. Or, more to the point, in case Zack freaks.

One day he’ll have his own phone and be able to read messages. Maybe I should investigate teaching him to use voice to text with an accessibility read-aloud function. I smile as Iconsider how far our wild alpha has come in just a few short weeks.

We take the oversized service elevator to the roof and step out into the chilly morning air. High glass walls rim the rooftop, cutting some of the gusting wind, but I still have second thoughts about if we chose the right place to build a new nest for Red. It’s probably an even stupider idea to keep it a secret from her, but at this point I’m worried mentioning her heat might set her off. She’s got a lot on her hands, after all.

The builder beckons me and I move out of the doorway, dipping my hands into my front pockets. A wooden frame with a peaked roof rises above the concrete flooring, looking a bit like a small chapel or studio.

The builder rests one gloved hand on the bare wooden structure. “Frame’s almost done and we’ll be working on the subflooring today if the weather cooperates,” he declares with a glance at the clouds sitting heavy over the city. “Come and see the inside area.”

I follow him through the framed doorway, looking around at the wide space.

He points to the left side of the doorway. “Over there will be the wet area for your Jacuzzi, shower, and the toilet.” His hands sweep back toward the center. “And here’s your lounge in the middle. The whole thing is open plan, except for the toilet. The stall will be extra wide, so someone can help the omega in and out.”

I track his excited hands as he points out where curtains will hang around what I’m designating the nest platform, with daybeds in the back for the off-duty alphas to rest if the main area becomes too active, and a kitchenette with a fridge and sink for staying fed and hydrated during heats.

Honestly, it’s hard to picture right now from just a timber cube outline, but I know better than anyone the giant gap existing between a design and the finished project.

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