Chapter 26 Callisto
Chapter twenty-six
Callisto
I stumble as I push through the front doors of Harkman and Laurance and step out onto the sidewalk. A headache lurks in the back of my mind, and I rub my forehead, trying to remember where I planned to go next.
The last few days have been a blur of court cases, meetings with the OCB, and appointments with my broker to liquidate enough investments to get a sizeable foothold in Alpha Cash shares. As often as not, I sleep on the couch in my office instead of returning to the empty hotel room.
I grit my teeth and walk, knowing my sluggish brain will catch up soon enough. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since breakfast. The grueling pace wears me down, but I can’t rest until Zack, Red, and Ricky are together again.
And to help me with that mission, I turned to Dodge, as well as Alhedy’s lackey. Dodge happily switched his services from hit man to informant, digging into Zack’s list of attackers to find underworld connections.
I cross the road and swing into MoonMugs to order a toasted sandwich and fries.
As I swipe my card to pay, the dollar sign on the screen reminds me just a day ago I handed Alhedy’s contact fifty thousand dollars in cash to fund support for Zack in prison.
While I’m used to working with figures most people would consider huge, actually packing the cash into a laptop bag made me quiver.
Guess it’s more real when it’s in your hands.
Those nerves haven’t quite faded yet, but the ongoing churn in my stomach suggests what I’m feeling is an accumulation of that other thing—the deeply buried panic. But I don’t have time to stop and see a shrink or do self-care. Not now.
My work ethic has always been strong, but a real purpose motivates my efforts these days. I can’t continue at this pace forever, but since Hale put a stop to new clients, I booked vacation to start in a few weeks once my current load of cases dries up. The thought keeps me going.
As I eat my sandwich, I compile a list of questions for my next deposition, pushing through the fatigue to organize my thoughts on the case.
But my pace slows, my mind returning constantly to Zack’s situation.
We’ve tracked Ray’s finances to Alpha Cash, but someone somewhere has to have a lead on the physical operations.
I return my plate to the counter and then head out the door, but the moment I hit the sidewalk my alpha senses tingle.
I swing around, studying the home-going sunset crowd.
As I scan the street, irritation and fear swell through me in equal measure, stripping away the faint inner warmth the food gave me.
A familiar face lurks in the approaching crowd, and I sigh with relief. Jackson, the wiry tech dealer from Dodge’s crew, doesn’t meet my eyes as his steps bring him close enough to bump shoulders with me. When I swing back, he reaches out to steady me, slipping a piece of paper in my pocket.
“Good luck,” he whispers. Then the cheeky bastard grabs a feel of my ass and walks away.
Shaking my head, I follow the sidewalk to the hotel.
In my room, I toss my laptop bag on the bed and toe off my shoes.
I really ought to buy some furniture and move into the new place I bought, but it feels too difficult with everything else going on.
Or maybe that’s simply the excuse I keep leaning on.
Maybe the truth is, I don’t want to move into a cold, empty apartment by myself again.
I had a taste of the good life, and now everything else feels hollow.
I dig out the note and read the message from Dodge.
Tracked the lead to a mechanic workshop at 1034 Dugil Street in Cadence, East Laversham. Suspicious activity inc excessive power consumption and high vehicle turnover.
My heart leaps, and I grab my phone, calling Leroy right away to convey the information.
“Where’d this address come from?” he asks.
“Um, an anonymous tip,” I blurt. A faint shakiness quivers beneath my sternum.
If I’m discovered to be in a contract with criminals, I’ll end up in the cell next to Zack’s.
“Maybe someone felt guilty because Red and Rickon went public about Zack being in prison,” I explain.
“Or because of what happened at the courthouse.” It’s plausible; the news outlets ran wild with the story.
“Hmm, all right. I’ll look into it,” the assistant director says, a foreboding tone in his voice. “If we find anything, I’ll get the task force moving right away.” Even if my story sounds suspicious, he wants this matter closed faster than I do.
“Good luck,” I tell him, breathing a sigh of relief.
After hanging up the phone, I stand in the middle of the room, staring at the lifeless hotel suite.
And I finally admit to myself how lonely I am.
For years I’ve run from my own emotions, burying them in work, but now it’s like someone’s peeled the blinkers back from my eyes.
Zack’s trapped in a cell, while Rickon and Red sleep in a tent on the side of the road just to be closer to their missing alpha.
And I know precisely how they feel.
I want to get another apartment in the same building as my old place, just so I can run into them in the lobby occasionally by accident.
As if the universe hears me, my phone vibrates with a call from Ricky.
“Hey,” I answer, my heart pounding. We resolved the fight we had over his bond, but the other, more intimate things hang between us, unresolved.
“Hi, Calli. How’s things?” His sweet voice makes me feel weak in the knees.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say “busy” but I stop.
Rickon already knows my hectic schedule, and I don’t want to fob him off with small talk.
“I—” I lick my dry lips and sit down on a corner of the bed.
“I really miss you both,” I admit. All three of them, if I’m honest. Even though Zack’s a pain in the ass, nobody’s bored around him.
Silence stretches down the line.
“Are you in the tent?” I ask, drumming my fingers on my knee.
“Yeah,” Ricky replies, a little breathy. “The prison transport bus went by today, and Zack waved at us out the window.”
I chuckle, trying to picture the big alpha waving like a schoolboy.
Ricky clears his throat. “So, I couldn’t see properly, but it looked like he had an inmate pinned over his seat. Thought you should know.”
“Fuck.” A laugh escapes me. “Why am I not surprised?”
Rickon chuckles too, but he sounds brittle.
“Did something else happen?” I ask.
“Kinda. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but Clarissa showed up the other day at the press conference.”
Rage chokes my throat. How dare that selfish bitch show her face to Ricky again after all these years? And she ignored my warning. “I’ll get the restraining order started tomorrow,” I promise through gritted teeth, wishing I could do more.
“Thanks,” he says wearily.
I squeeze my hands, itching to check him over. “Can . . . can I come see you?” I ask.
“Here?” he asks in surprise. “It’s a fifty-minute drive.”
“Doesn’t matter. If it’s okay with you and Red, I’d like to come.”
He relays my question to Red, and she immediately agrees. I smile into the phone as I cradle it to my ear, my exhaustion fading away.
“We don’t have any power out here for your laptop,” Ricky warns me. “But if you’re coming, you may as well bring a sleeping bag and pillow.”
I chuckle. “For what? A sleepover? Sounds like school days.”
“Yeah.” His wistful tone squeezes my heart.
Is it too much to hope I’m not the only one missing our friendship?
Ricky clucks his tongue. “I mean, you’ll probably have to bail Zack out of trouble in the morning, anyway.”
I laugh. “Good point. I’ll grab my charging bank, but the other gear is still at your apartment.”
“Well, if you’re swinging by, can you grab some other stuff for me?”
Warmth swells through me. “Yes, anything you need.” Anything at all.
An hour and a half later, I pull over in the dark on the verge near Laversham’s Alpha Lodging prison. The OCB campervan door flies open, and I shield my eyes from the glare of a flashlight. “It’s just Callisto,” I call, pleased to find the agents on high alert.
“Evening,” Agent Josef says, swishing the light away. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, just came to drop a few things off.” I open the trunk and fill my arms with clothes and sleeping gear. “Brought you guys some donuts, too.”
“I knew you were my favorite lawyer,” he crows, making me laugh. He grabs the top box off my pile and glances at the second. “Bribes for everyone, I see.”
“An alpha’s gotta try,” I say before turning to the tent. I don’t want to hang around to see the pity in his gaze.
Rickon unzips the tent flap, holding it wide open so I can duck inside. “Welcome to our humble abode,” he quips.
“Well, this is cozy,” I say.
A string of globes hang from the peak, illuminating the interior, and judging by the cord disappearing through a flap in the wall, the lights must be solar-powered.
Faint light from the prison gates glows through one side of the canvas, adding to the ambiance.
The tent stretches into a sizeable space, suited for eight people perhaps, with a mattress on the floor to one side and a table with some cooking gear on the other.
“Portaloo’s out the back,” Rickon declares, unloading the stuff in my arms. “Be careful you don’t trip over the strings and pegs when you go out.”
Red sits on the bed, headphones nesting over her ears.
As I step closer, her nostrils flare and her eyes snap open to meet mine.
The sleepy little smile she flashes turns my heart to goo.
The omega wears her hair in a messy bun with loose strands spilling around her face, and a cotton tank top hugs her curves.
One strap slides carelessly down her arm as she waves from her cozy bundle of pillows and sleeping bags.
In fact, this is the most nest-like I’ve ever seen her.
It’s sweet and natural, a far softer picture of her than I’ve witnessed before.