Chapter 34 Red
Chapter thirty-four
Red
I thump down onto the leather couch and pop my heels up on the coffee table, partly out of childish spite and partly out of dominance. This room holds some unpleasant memories for me.
Dr Marilyn Woods eyes me over her glasses. “What did you want to see me about, Red?”
“I need my alpha,” I declare. Callisto’s request turned out quite simple: ask the Omega Center to get involved with Zack’s appeal.
“Okay,” Dr Woods says, folding her bony hands over her knees. “But before that, can you tell me how you’ve been feeling?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Not so good. Trouble sleeping, lack of concentration, reduced appetite.” The last is true mostly because of how busy we are, driving back and forth from the prison for filming, and not having a proper kitchen—although both thumbs up to Pierce and Josef trying to keep us fed on packet foods.
Marilyn Woods smiles thinly. “We’re not reading out of a textbook here, Red.”
I hang one limp finger vaguely toward her bookcase packed full of psych manuals. “Pretty sure at least one of us is.”
She tugs her glasses off and spends a moment folding them up.
“You’re right. I do have to follow a textbook because that’s the safest way to make sure we’re meeting the needs of our omegas.
But—” She sets the glasses down on the coffee table with a soft plink.
“I do admit we didn’t adequately cover your needs. ”
I jerk upright.
“Your case reminded me we can’t put people in a box.
In this field, unconventional behavior is seen as expressions of subconscious malprocessing, and when the severity increases, that’s a warning sign of a destabilized mind.
In your case, the distribution of—” She tilts her head and eyes me up and down before continuing.
“—let’s say, unorthodox behaviors reveals a different coping mechanism. And, it’s working for you.”
Talk about textbook mumbo jumbo, and yet I can’t help smirking. I might be stuck in a ravine, but I’m still climbing up.
“However,” she continues, raising one hand, “I’m caught between a rock and a hard place because with so much responsibility on my shoulders, I must follow due process here at the Omega Center.”
I grunt softly into my palm. Sounds like fancy bullshit saying she knows she fucked up my rehabilitation but wouldn’t change anything if she got a do-over.
Dr Woods sighs and reaches for her tablet.
“That said, I’m opening a new subdepartment here at the Omega Center, which I’m calling Alternate Therapies.
” She air-quotes the department name. “We’ll be working with some international organizations using experimental approaches as well as art, music, and animal therapy.
My hope is, it’ll give the omegas who aren’t settling in well an opportunity to try a different approach.
” Her pen flips in my direction. “People like you.”
I hum under my breath. “Awesome. Do you want a trophy?” We both know there’s no one like me, but hopefully this means other omegas won’t be driven to contemplate murder in this office.
Her dry expression falters, revealing a hint of a smile. Makes her look less like a stick in the mud. “I’ll pass. I’d be afraid of what you might inscribe on the plaque.”
I chuckle.
“So, let me start over.” She taps her stylus on her tablet like a judge calling the court to order.
I perk up and nod, pulling my feet off the tabletop.
“I will happily lend my voice to getting your alpha out of prison because I can see the growth journey you’re on.
Coming back to the Omega Center of your own accord when under extreme stress shows maturity in your ability to find coping solutions.
” She lifts her brows, a deeper smile tugging at her thin lips.
“Unfortunately, I need some significant psychological data to write in my recommendation. Data that comes from actual facts, not Omoogled descriptions, if you please.”
“Fine.” I sigh and thump my elbow down on the armrest, leaning my chin on it and staring across the room. Thinking for a minute doesn’t really untangle my thoughts, but it gives me a starting place.
I cock my head and eye the doc. “At times I believed what they said, you know? That I was crazy, and no one was coming for me. I’d lie in restraints, my own filth pooling around me while I burned with fever, and wonder if maybe I was a phantom, existing in some other dimension where only demons lived—somewhere no human could ever reach. But then I’d feel this little tug.”
I spread my fingers across my forehead. “Voices. Not saying anything, but low hums. One was calm and collected. I guessed he was reading a storybook or giving speeches.” I shake my head and grin. “Turns out, he was putting criminals behind bars.”
Marilyn’s pen flicks across her tablet in short strokes as she listens.
“The other one was softer, always laughing or crying. He felt like someone I wanted to hug over and over. And the third? He snarled like a wild thing, day and night.” I throw the doctor a half smile. “I reckon you can place which one is which.”
She studies me. “And how did you recognize the voices when you met them?”
That’s easy. “The voices went quiet for the first time when we stood face to face. Then, when Zack bonded me, the voice or presence, whatever we call it, moved from up here . . .” I tap my skull. “. . .to here in my chest.”
“How many do you feel through the bond?”
I lift two fingers. “Two. Zack bonded Rickon not long before the attack.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“He was willing,” I add. “And Rickon hasn’t bonded me, as per the rules.” I slide my silk collar down to show my shoulder. “Only one mark.”
Dr Woods smiles, knowing what I’m getting at. “And the third alpha?”
I tap my head. “Still murmurs up here. He’s in court today and sounding mighty confident.” Happy even. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because we kissed. No matter our difficulties, Callisto’s going to be part of my life in some form from now on.
“Fascinating,” she murmurs.
“But,” I say, holding up one hand, “Zack’s been attacked in prison, and I experience all the aggression and terror like a conduit direct to my soul.
It’s utterly petrifying to sense the danger he’s in but be completely helpless.
I’m having nightmares again and forgetting my lines.
I never did that when I had Zack in my line of sight, even when we were still wrestling with some of his wild behavior in public. ”
“Okay. And you’re camping in a tent near the prison, correct?”
I nod. “Yeah. Besides the media statement, I can sense him better through the bond at close range. I don’t know how, but it’s true.”
The doc leans forward. “I believe you. The wonders of the bond confound science, but no one doubts its existence.” She glances down at her notes, brow furrowing with concentration. “I have to say, sleeping in a tent on the roadside is very dangerous.” She glances up at me, a sparkle in her eye.
“Absolutely,” I declare with enthusiasm, catching her meaning. She’s looking for ways to help me this time. “Rickon gets nervous too. Something about wanting me inside sturdy walls. It’s very dangerous.”
“Would you say you’re pining for your missing alpha?”
“So much it hurts.”
“Hm.” Dr Woods tracks her stylus pen across her notes. “But you can’t go back home because . . .?”
I clutch my chest. My first instinct is to assume a role, but do I really need to? Dr Woods says she needs real data to help with his release. I swallow hard around a lump in my throat. For Zack, I can be honest.
“I keep telling everyone I’m okay, even myself, just so I can get through the day, but I panic without Zack. The last time he was in prison, they scheduled his execution.” I grip the armrest, digging my fingers in deep so the Ghost flittering just out of reach can’t attack.
“I wake up in cold sweats, wondering why I can’t feel him and thinking he’s been attacked again.
For my whole life, I’ve relied on acting various roles that kept me alive, but the truth is I don’t want to keep living that way.
I want to live as the real Red Jones . .
. but I can’t do that without my alphas.
Rickon’s trying to keep a brave face, but he misses his alpha too. ”
Tears prickle behind my eyes, and I clear my throat. If I’m not careful, I’ll lose my composure entirely. “Isn’t long-term absence from a bond mate psychologically damaging or something?” I ask haughtily.
Dr Woods sets her tablet down on the table.
“In your case, I’m certain it can’t be good.
You seem to have an especially powerful connection to your alphas.
I looked into it, and there’s an entire field of research exploding around the concept of a pre-bond.
It would also explain how people feel compelled to travel to countries where their scent matches live. ”
“Well, it would explain a lot of things,” I mutter, looking away. Like how I walked into Callisto in the middle of a city, and how I found Zack locked up in a random prison.
The therapist leans forward. “One of the lead researchers is coming to Laversham. I’d like for you to talk to him in the future.”
I narrow my eyes. “Hey, I’m not being anyone’s lab rat again.”
She shakes her head. “No labs. Just in one of our conference rooms, or here in my office, if you prefer. The fact is, you’re the only case I’ve come across where the pre-bond might be audible. Other omegas in the case study have only ever referred to their connection as a sensation.”
I drum my fingers on the couch arm. “I’ll do it if Doc Leanne agrees to be with me.”
Dr Woods’s mouth tightens, but she nods. “I’ll ask her.”
“Good. Are we done here now?”
“Of course. I’ll write an official release request and deliver it to the Justice Department.
” She picks up her glasses and flicks the metal arms open.
“You should know that lots of omegas ask us for help when their alphas get incarcerated, but we rarely intervene. We can’t when crimes are involved. ”
I jump to my feet and grin down at her. “So, you’re telling me I’m just that special, right?”
Her shoulders twitch with a silent laugh, and she waves me away. I grab my handbag and cross the room, glad to be getting out of here.
With my hand on the doorknob, I pause and turn back. “You know, next time an omega tells you she can hear her alphas in her head, how ’bout you believe her instead of waiting for some scientific research team to tell you it’s possible? Could have saved both of us a lot of heartache.”
I don’t look back as I bounce out and shut the door behind me. She won’t enjoy being told what to do, but I needed to say my piece.
Rickon waits for me in the lobby, eyelids drooping as he taps halfheartedly on his laptop.
I stop in the hallway for a moment to watch him.
He’s got his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, revealing faux-leather dress shoes with a floral overlay he glued on himself.
With them he wears fitted black slacks, a dangling wallet chain, and an oversized knit sweater in the same aqua blue as on the shoe pattern.
Plus a newsboy cap, thrown on last minute because he couldn’t find a comb this morning.
Only Rickon could make the assorted styles work, but every person moving through the Omega Center takes a second look, checking out my gorgeous alpha.
He stirs, sensing my admiration through the bond, and looks up. His eyes soften with delight, framed by slender black wing lines.
“Everything go okay?” he asks, snapping the laptop shut.
“Everything is wonderful, especially you.”
His soft smile warms my heart.
I wrap my arm possessively around his shoulders, one of them bare as the sweater drapes down his arm.
“She’ll write the letter for you?”
“Yes. But only because you’re looking at Laversham’s most special omega, thank you very much.”
He chuckles and stops walking, tugging me around. With a light push, he sends me stumbling back into the wall and cages me in his arms. He leans in, breath hot and vanilla scent sweet as a dessert. I melt into him, accepting a kiss that leaves us both vibrating.
“Most special omega?” Rickon grins and whispers on my lips, “I already knew that.”
I tug him closer and lock both arms around his neck, not caring who sees us.