Page 25 of Omega's Fever
My hands clench into fists. These past weeks, staying calm has become harder.
I’ve had a lot of people start fights with me in the last month. I get my fair few usually, same as anyone else but it’s been a lot more than usual.
I try to finish the fights as subtly and quickly as I can. Technically, I’ve won them all but in reality, prison fights are always lose-lose.
I ‘win’ the fight and the guy gets hurt — that’s another few years added to my sentence. I lose the fight? Well, then I’m just dead, but then they can’t add any more years on if I’m dead so I guess there’s a bright side.
The door to chambers is solid mahogany with a brass nameplate: Hon. David Melkham. My escort knocks twice.
“Enter.”
The door swings open and my omega’s scent hits me immediately.
Milo stands in front of the judge’s massive desk, his back to me. He’s thinner. Even through the expensive suit, I can see the sharp line of his shoulder blades. What’s wrong with him?
He doesn’t turn around but he must have scented me.
“Your Honor,” his voice is steady but pitched higher than I remember, “I must again formally request to be removed from this case. The confirmation of a prime match creates a conflict of interest.”
Judge Melkham looks even more sour than usual. “Mr. Warren, we’ve had this discussion via correspondence twice in the past month.”
“The situation has evolved.” Milo’s knuckles are white against the yellow legal pad. “The Bureau’s assessment—”
“Is irrelevant to these proceedings.” The judge’s voice could freeze hellfire. “You took an oath as an attorney. I expect you to honor it.”
I can’t stop staring at the rigid line of Milo’s spine. Can’t stop breathing in his scent. I’ve been fantasizing about that scent for weeks, and now he’s three feet away and won’t even look at me.
“Bring in the defendant,” Melkham orders.
My legs move on autopilot as the guard yanks my elbow again.
The room smells like him. God, I’d forgotten how strong it was. My brain feels like it’s melting.
“Sit.” The judge points to a chair beside Milo.
I lower myself carefully. This close, I can see the dark circles under Milo’s eyes, purple-black like bruises. He still doesn’t look at me. Something has happened to him or is happening to him. My stomach turns. I don’t know how to protect him from this.
“Now then.” Melkham sighs, his irritation clear with the sound. “I need to make something clear. I do not care about this prime match situation. Not at all. If we have a single inappropriate display from either you Mr Hayes or you Mr Warren, I will find you both in contempt of court.”
Milo’s jaw tightens. “Your Honor, with all due respect—”
“Respect would involve not wasting this court’s time. The jurypool is waiting. We’re already thirty minutes behind schedule because of this meeting and even further because you’ve decided to make this case a lot more complicated at the last minute, Mr Warren.
So let me be crystal clear: you will proceed with jury selection, you will provide competent representation. Both of you will behave like civilized human beings. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” The words sound like they’re being dragged from Milo’s throat with fishhooks.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I say.
“Mr. Hayes.” The judge turns his attention to me. “Has your attorney been in contact with you regarding trial preparation?”
I glance at Milo. He’s studying the floor. “No, Your Honor.”
“I see.” Melkham’s frown deepens, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. “Mr. Warren, you’ve had four weeks.”
“I’ve been reviewing everything.” Milo’s voice gains strength. “I’ve interviewed witnesses, filed the necessary motions, and prepared a comprehensive defense strategy.”
That gets my attention. He’s been working the case?