Page 18 of Omega's Fever

I send him a thumbs up, then drive home on autopilot, already feeling the first whispers of the suppressant taking effect. Or maybe it’s psychosomatic. Either way, I’ll take it.

When I get home, I settle on the couch with my laptop and open my email to see Kellen’s file which she’ll have had some intern scan and send to me.

I read through everything properly, then read through it again. My stomach twists as I read and by the time I’m finished, it’s dark and I’m starving and I think there is a real chance that Kellen Hayes is innocent. I have no idea how I feel about that.

7

Kellen

My spine slams against the metal bench as the van hits another pothole.

I’ve been fortunate enough to get Woods and Antonini as my personal chauffeurs this afternoon and they’re in fine form. Omega slick has a particular sweetness that any alpha or omega can identify. Mix that with the musk of aroused alpha and there’s no hiding what happened.

They’re loving this and right now, I’ve had enough of both of them for one lifetime. I’m not looking forward to another twenty years with them.

“Fuck me,” Woods sniffs the air dramatically, then turns to grin at me through the cage partition. “You absolutely reek, Hayes. What did you do, roll around in that lawyer’s cologne?”

Antonini snorts from the driver’s seat. “That’s not cologne.”

“No shit.” Woods twists further in his seat. “Hayes here gets a fancy Schmitt and Petersen lawyer and gets the full personal service. You know what those guys charge? Five hundred an hour, minimum. That’s one expensive whore.”

He’s trying to get a rise out of me. I ignore it, but perhaps my scent starts giving away how furious I am because Antonini glances at me in the rearview mirror and says, “Leave it alone, Woods.”

“No, I’m serious.” Woods won’t let it go. “We transport you animals back and forth, burning taxpayer money on gas, and for what? So you can get yourself an easy lay? Courthouse is gonna need to be fumigated.”

I keep my eyes on the van’s ceiling. Gray metal with rust spots spreading like cancer. One looks like a dog if you squint.

“You’re awfully quiet back there, Hayes.” Woods won’t let it go. Never does when he smells blood in the water. “Usually you’re all ‘I’m innocent’ this and ‘I was framed’ that. Your lawyer suck the fight out of you along with your—”

“Woods.” Antonini’s voice carries a warning. “Enough.”

“What?”

My hands clench into fists. The movement pulls at the dried blood on my wrists where the cuffs cut deep. I can still smell Milo on my skin beneath the copper and rust. His sweetness that doesn’t belong in this metal box heading back to my cage.

“Fifty bucks says the lawyer doesn’t show for the trial.” Woods pulls out his wallet and waves the bill. “Come on, Antonini. Easy money.”

Woods sighs and gives up on trying to keep him from annoying me. “I’ll take that action. Hayes might be a lot of things, but he’s got that whole big brooding alpha thing going. Omegas eat that shit up.”

“Brooding?” Woods laughs, sharp as breaking glass. “More like brain-dead. You see the size of him? All those muscles don’t leave much room for thinking.”

I let them talk. Their voices wash over me like white noise. The city slides past outside. Normal life happening just feet away.

The van slows, and turns left. I know this route by heart now. The prison’s watchtower appears first, then the razor wire.

“Home sweet home.” Antonini pulls up to the checkpoint. “Got one for processing.”

The gate guard barely looks up from his magazine before he waves us through. A minute lantern the van slows and stops and the two guards disembark.

“On your feet, Hayes.” Woods unlocks the rear doors. “Trynot to trip on your dick.”

I shuffle out. I take a deep breath of the fresh air wanting to store it up. We get outside time but never enough.

“Move your ass.” Woods shoves me toward the processing entrance. “Some of us got homes to go to.”

Three guards cluster around the intake area, sharing some joke that dies when we enter.

“Hayes, Kellen. 83447.” The processing guard doesn’t look up from his computer. “Anything to report?”