Chapter 35 Rickon
Chapter thirty-five
Rickon
I smother a yawn as I plug my laptop charger into a socket in Director Yun’s production company office.
With a quick check of my phone, I confirm Red hasn’t called me yet.
I don’t like leaving her alone, but I’m so swamped.
This hour will make all the difference in catching up on admin tasks, and since they’re filming in the studio today, she’s not far away.
My brain runs faster than I can type as I complete Callisto’s acting contract, making notes on the PDF to draw his attention to the nudity specifics, and then shoot him the email. With that finished, I check the ever-growing list on my phone for the next priority.
The building contractors wrote to say they’ve finished the external structure of the rooftop nest, but I haven’t been home in days to do an inspection.
I detour via my calendar to check when Red’s next heat is due, marveling at how the weeks blur together.
We need to line up options for Red’s next acting role, and I think we might have overdue utility bills on the apartment, but I haven’t yet gotten them transferred to Red’s name yet.
An ache forms behind my eyes, and I rub them. The only way Red and I sleep well at the moment is fucking each other senseless and collapsing. I miss the comfortable apartment and power on demand, and our own bed. And I miss Zack.
An email alert for the online petition I set up for Zack’s release lands in my inbox and I click the link.
My eyes bug as I read the number. The support campaign just passed seventy thousand signatures.
All the exposure to the media Red got from taking Zack around on a leash is paying off now.
I forward the email to Callisto to add to his bail appeal.
Have I recorded Red’s last race scenes for her to listen to? I’m sure we had a registration with the actors’ guild notification somewhere. One of the car tires looked a bit soft when I parked up today, and—
My heavy eyes slide closed and my thoughts trail off. Just one moment, and then I’ll continue.
I wake with a bitter burst of adrenaline, flailing to stop my laptop sliding off my knee. Instead, I end up whacking my wrist on the chair armrest.
“Ow,” I mutter, looking around. My laptop sits on the seat next to me, but I know I didn’t put it there.
The director’s assistant walks over, holding a cup of water. “I moved your computer,” she says, offering me the paper cup. “You looked like you needed the nap.”
“Thanks,” I say thickly. “How long was I out for?”
“Only about twenty minutes. They’re all still filming over in Studio Two.”
I sip, the chilled water clearing my foggy brain. Over the woman’s shoulder, I spy a television screen up on the wall, the subtitles running hot. The words seep slowly into my brain.
Wren Enterprises announces hostile bid for Alpha Cash. Financial sector in uproar. Shareholders’ meeting called under growing allegations of mismanagement.
I clutch the cup tighter as it slips in my numb fingers, splashing water on my knee.
Bloody hell! The Simon and Lector duo really fired the starter gun.
I could hardly believe it when Callisto explained how Ray was using dodgy companies to wash his money into Alpha Cash.
Who would imagine such a massive financial institution could be so corrupt?
But this takeover will root out Ray’s illegal activities once and for all. We’ll turn his wealth tap off one pipeline at a time, and this is the biggest one.
I grab my laptop and log into my bank’s trading platform. I haven’t used this in years, having sold the shares Aunt Lexi gave me to stay afloat when I was first building my career. But Lector taught me how to navigate the platform, and thankfully I used a PIN I know well.
“As I thought,” I mutter, checking the stock price on Alpha Cash.
It’s down three percent today from the takeover news.
I eye my bank balance, now much greener thanks to a share of Red’s contract advance.
Couldn’t hurt to dip my toe in the market, and it’d make me feel like I owned a piece of revenge.
After placing my order for two grand’s worth of Alpha Cash stocks, I send Lector a good-luck text message with an excited fingers-crossed GIF. He shoots back a wink emoji almost immediately. I pack up my laptop and call Callisto, getting my earbuds in as the phone dials.
“Hi, Ricky,” he answers on the second ring.
“Hey! I just saw the news.”
“Exciting, isn’t it? I mean, that battle won’t be easy and could take a few months, but I’m hopeful.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s Lector,” I tell him, throwing open a side door and striding toward the second studio shed. “I’m on my way to tell Red right now.”
“How is she?” he asks.
I smile at the eagerness in his voice. “Good, I think.” A golf cart zips around the corner of the studio, and my feet slow. Fuck, I’m so stressed out now I’m seeing my mother everywhere I go. “Hey. You got that restraining order filed, right?”
“Of course.” His tone tightens, alpha dominance giving it a sharp edge. Callisto’s always cared, but this sounds far more possessive. “Pretty sure I saw an email saying the temporary order was granted. It should’ve been served yesterday or the day before.”
I nod and rock forward with a relieved exhale.
My nerves are all over the place, with us sleeping in a tent and Zack not in our midst. It reminds me of how I used to live before meeting Red: locked in a permanent state of weary fear.
But that went away after Zack joined us. A pack really changes things.
“Did—” A muffled background voice interrupts Callisto. “Oh, hold on a second, someone’s asking for me.”
I slip inside the giant studio building. The red light outside the studio door flashes, warning me the cameras are running, so I lean against the wall in the corridor outside to wait.
“Well, would you look at that,” Callisto crows down the line.
“What?”
“Hang on. I’ll switch to video call.”
The request flashes up, and I hit the accept option. My screen blurs as Calli turns his phone over to reveal a big blue envelope resting on his palm, one corner touching his watch. The Omega Center’s nest logo practically glows in silver embossing, smack in the middle.
“This is their support for the appeal,” Callisto says, turning the phone back to show his grin. His gaze tracks up, polished hallway with old-style grandeur bouncing in the background as he power-walks. “Just in time before they close.”
“You’re going to submit it right now?” I ask.
“Yep. Hang on a second.” He brushes through a doorway and rings a service bell. His voice muffles as he sets the phone down on a high countertop and opens the envelope in front of the administration officer. “I’d like to submit this as an addendum for a current appeal.”
A man responds by saying he’ll take care of it, but Callisto doesn’t move. From the low angle I can see, he stays rooted in place, an expectant look on his face.
Calli picks up the phone. “Sorry, sir,” he says as if I’m his boss. “Yes, I just delivered the Omega Center’s recommendation, but I’m waiting for the clerk to date-stamp it.” His belligerent expression makes me want to burst out laughing.
I decide to play along, adopting a deeper voice. “Well, do they plan to take all day? Time is money, and I need you back in the conference room, now!”
Callisto lifts his brows and stares down at the clerk, and the click of the stamp rings out.
“I’m on my way,” he announces to me, his fake boss, before thanking the clerk.
He winks down at me but stays quiet until he pushes back out through the door.
After he checks over his shoulder, he chuckles darkly.
“Nice one, Ricky. That should get things moving. I daresay we’ll have an appeal date in less than a week. ”
“The Omega Center has that much say?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, once they get involved, it’s like lighting a fire under the judges’ tails. But if someone in the clerk’s office was the one burying my case, now they can’t.”
Clever. I swear I feel like an amoeba some days around my super smart friend.
“Any word from the prison?” I ask, leaning my head back against the cool wall.
“Yeah, Zack’s in solitary again. Even if he hates it, he’s safer there.” He puffs a little, no doubt striding down the sidewalk. “Hold on, Ricky. I believe we’ll have him home within two weeks.”
My heart leaps. “Fuck, that would be amazing.”
The red warning light over the studio door flicks off and I push away from the wall and slip inside. Red grins and waves before turning back to talk to the assistant director.
A faint ball of unease in my belly unwinds; it seems to appear any time I don’t have eyes on my omega. I might need to read some articles to see if all alphas feel this way.
Callisto’s voice muffles as he covers the phone and gives the address for his office.
“You heading back to the office?”
“Yeah. No rest for the wicked, right? The judge threw out an affidavit today, saying it was submitted late, so I need to do some digging and probably fire someone.”
“Couldn’t have been Hale.”
“Right. We’ve been pretty swamped, so he might have asked an intern to take care of it. I should’ve done it myself, but with the way things are currently . . .” He doesn’t need to finish because I know exactly how crazy busy he’s been.
“Will it damage your case?”
Callisto grunts. “I’ll see what I can do to fix it overnight. If I can find something wrong with the other party’s submission, I’ll get everything zeroed and we’ll start again.”
It feels like it’s been months since we’ve talked about a case that wasn’t Red’s, and it reminds me of the all-important goal Calli used to talk about. “What’s your win streak at?” I ask.
Silence comes down the line.
“Calli?”
“Um, yeah. I just realized this is case number one hundred.”
“What?” I screech, drawing gazes from all around the studio. I duck behind the set and cup my hand around my mouth. “I can’t believe you’re at ninety-nine already! What’s Shiloh Laurance’s record again?”
“One hundred and two. Damn.” He huffs out a big breath, as if the impact of the moment settles on him.
“You got this,” I say. “Smash that home run, baby.”
He chuckles, deep voice soothing in my ear.
That suave rumble heats my belly, reminding me how affectionate Calli’s been ever since Red’s last heat.
Some days, when we’re alone in the tent, it feels like I’m all Red’s got now, but that’s not true.
Callisto has our back. Those bills I was stressing about?
He’ll take care of them, just like he’s doing everything required to get Zack home.
No way will Zack ignore all this man’s done for us. I won’t let him.
I smile, cradling the phone to my ear.
My phone beeps, letting me know another call’s incoming. When I see Agent Josef’s number, I ask Calli to hold.
“Rickon Jones here,” I answer.
“Hey, Rickon. Sorry to bother you but we have a bit of a situation here at the tent.”
“What’s going on?” I ask. The set suddenly feels darker and more cramped, and I duck out from behind the staging, searching for fresh air.
“Well, the police are here, demanding we pack up and go home on account of illegal camping.”
I sigh. “Man, we can’t catch a break.”
Red walks toward me, and she frowns as she watches my expression.
Agent Josef sighs. “I’ve tried to talk them out of it, agent to agent, but I think they’re getting signals from their higher-ups.”
“Okay. I think we’re done for the day so we’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Roger that.”
“Something wrong?” Red asks after I hang up on the call and say a hasty goodbye to Callisto.
I run my fingers through my hair, stiff with gel. “The police say we need to pack up the tent.”
Her eyes flash with anger.
I reach out, requesting her hand. She might not want to leave, but I’d be grateful to have my omega inside a house once more. “If you’re done here, let’s go see what they have to say.”