Page 22 of Your Wild Omega

One side of Hale’s mouth quirks. “Lyle hates sushi and seafood. Quinton has date night dinner with his pack every Tuesday at eight.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Apparently, they are merciless if he’s late.”

I grin and slap my hands against the counter with glee. “Damn, you’re good. Remind me not to piss you off. What do you want?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Something elegant from the Wren Grace kitchenware collection. It’s my sister’s wedding next month.”

I shoot him with my fingers as I pass by. “There’s a new line of dinner plate sets coming out late spring. I’ll get you a twelve-piece set.”

He smiles, gaze already dropping back to his case notes. “And that’s why I work for you.”

“Pfft,” I scoff. “Nothing to do with me being an excellent lawyer?”

He shrugs one shoulder, but he’s already sunk into his reading and I know better than to waste his time. Like me, Hale’s ambitious. Most likely he’s stuck to my side because I’m a hard worker too.

I rise on my tiptoes a few times and take deep breaths. The banter smoothed over some of my nerves, but I can still feel them, simmering below the surface. I never want to experience that drowning sensation again, but this vibrating alertness feels like it could spiral at any moment if I’m not careful.

But how exactly do I be careful?

So much at work rides on my ability to dedicate myself, but now my mind and body want to be back at my house, watching Red and Rickon—and that ridiculous man-beast she brought home. I groan softly and drop into my chair. I’m a mess.

My gaze catches on the project-management smart board taking up a huge portion of one wall.

Dad always said if you want to get things done, write a to-do list. I scribble down the most urgent tasks on the notepad beside my mouse, dividing them into personal and work. On the personal list, I add a note to visit Mom. I need to have a heart-to-heart with her, but at the same time, I don’t want to. Admitting you’re wrong isn’t easy.

I tear off the personal half of the list and shove it in my pocket before updating the whiteboard and emailing a meeting invite to the two work partners assigned to the OCB cases with me. Although I intend to roast them for complaining to Parker instead of coming to me, I need them both on my side. Because the truth is, the case against the alpha that raped Red through her heats isn’t looking like one I can win.

I set the tray of sushi down in the center of the conference table in front of the two assistant lawyers. “Eat up. This might take a while,” I tell them.

Lyle’s jaw clenches as he looks at the food, but he smooths away his disgust almost immediately. I swallow down my smugness. It’s amazing how Hale learns such minute details about everyone in the firm.

I drag my attention back to the job at hand and slap down Ray Fibbistachi’s profile photo, taken after his arrest at the trafficking hub. “Okay, so which crimes are we confident we can nail this bastard on?” I ask, rubbing my temple.

Quinton was in court today, finishing off a case against one of the other omega traffickers not related to Red’s case. He won, and the felon’s slated to do fifteen years in the slammer, but it meant we couldn’t meet until dusk. Usually I can work’til midnight without breaking a sweat, but today I’m tired and itching to go home.

I shove the desire to know how Red fared training Zack into the back of my mind and glance at the arrest profile of the criminal. Focus, Callisto. This is what I do best.

Lyle scrolls on his a-Pad. “The home search picked up unregistered haze in his home. Twenty vials. So we have him on possession.”

“Distribution?” I ask.

Lyle shakes his head. “No, he’s been in jail since the arrest. Be nice if they could’ve let him out and done a sting.”

I nod in agreement. Everyone arrested in conjunction with the trafficking hub got denied bail, all determined to be flight risks, but it would be great if we had more to charge him with.

Quinton hums through his mouthful of sushi to indicate he has something to add. He swallows. “Actually, he made bail last Friday.”

“Shit,” I murmur, checking the dates on my calendar. How did I miss that? Must be because Red’s heat distracted me. The guy must have some serious legal muscle behind him to work around the injunctions the OCB set up. Or if not muscle, some under-the-table money.

The idea of that monster walking around freely and possibly bumping into Red makes my blood grow icy. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea for her to have a killer alpha on a leash after all.

Quinton leans his elbows on the table and flicks through his notes. “The OCB arrested Ray in the facility during the raid, and we have the statements from other omegas who said the omega designated O-11 was taken away somewhere regularly—”

“Red,” I interject through clenched teeth.

He looks up, confusion wrinkling his brow. “Pardon?”

“Our victim’s name is Red,” I say. “Red Jones.”

“Right.” Quinton narrows his watery gaze on me. “But why all the runaround? You’ve got her statement, don’t you? Isn’t that why you chased her across the country?”

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