Chapter 59 Rickon
Chapter fifty-nine
Rickon
“Red!” I scream as our car screeches to a stop in a shower of gravel.
My omega hangs through a doorway, blood spattered across her white pullover, a pistol dangling from one hand. She welcomes our arrival with a smile.
A billow of flames wreath her back, pouring inky smoke through the top of the doorway. “Get away from the fire!” Callisto shouts, throwing himself out of the car.
Zack flies past him, arriving at Red’s side before I can even get out of the car. He gathers her up in his arms and lifts her clear. Flames race up her back, and Callisto throws his jacket over her head to smother them.
Heart pounding, I run up to them and catch her face in my hands.
Red sighs happily. “You came,” she murmurs wearily.
The meaning loaded behind those words brings me to tears; the waiting alone in the dark for years, through the heats, the madness, the voices in her head.
I kiss her smudged forehead, trembling all over. “Of course we came.”
Suddenly she thrashes out of our grip and turns toward the burning building. “The laptop!” she shouts. “There’s evidence.”
I leap up and through the doorway without thinking. Smoke chokes me, but the countertop is only a few steps away. A lump lies between me and the desk, the size and shape sickeningly familiar as I step over it.
“Rickon! Get out!” Callisto shouts behind me.
I grab the laptop and keys lying on the bench and spin around, but the lump heaves with a gasp.
Bloody oath, she’s still alive. If I had to make a logical decision, I’d leave her to burn, but my body acts without thinking.
I throw the laptop at Calli and drag on the woman’s feet, tugging her toward the doorway.
The car driver shouts furiously into his phone, and Zack babbles at Red, wiping blood from her hands with his shirt as Calli helps me pull my birth mother down the step. Tears stream down my face, but I don’t know who or what they’re for.
The moment the wounded woman hits the dirt, I release her and run to Red. She’s covered in blood. “Red, what happened?” I gasp, patting her body to search for the source of the bleed.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she tells me, snatching my hands. “It’s not my blood.”
I slide my hands up and down Red’s arms, gasping in her lovely, honeyed macadamia scent.
Right now it carries a bitter edge after her ordeal, plus the pungent smoke thickening the air.
The blood drenching her shirt might not be hers, but her cheek swells, and she holds herself stiffly.
The way our bond flared with pain and fury a minute ago, I thought I was losing her.
“Red,” I gasp, choking on fear and smoke. “Omega—”
She has the audacity to fucking laugh before throwing her arms around my neck. “I’m truly okay, thanks to Fabby McStabulous. Your gift saved me, Rickon.”
“McStabulous?” I choke out a laugh as I stroke her scorched hair. She’s alive; that’s all that matters. “I fucking love you,” I declare.
Fire explodes through the building’s roof with a loud bang, spraying sparks in all directions. I twitch, instinctively shielding my omega.
“Zack, get them out of there!” Callisto shouts.
Zack, who hasn’t let go of Red even though she’s hugging me, rises and grabs me with one arm, towing me toward the car.
As I glance back, Callisto hands the laptop to the driver and drags Clarissa away by the ankles.
An afterimage burns in my eyes, of my glorious omega smiling from the doorway, half in and half out, dangling a gun in one hand.
So fierce, and more powerful than any movie scene.
Red whimpers, and pain floods the bond.
“Ohm-ee-ga?” Zack growls out, freezing in place.
“I’m okay, I just have a bit of whiplash from the car,” she mutters, holding her neck.
“Hold her gently,” I tell Zack, pressuring his tight grip on her.
He stares down at Red, jaw tight, and his heartbeat pounds against my arm. The bond quakes under the strength of his wild emotions, pulsing with a different kind of whiplash.
I wheeze as I tuck my hand behind his head. “She’s okay, alpha. We’re all okay.”
When he nods and lets out a long sigh before loosening his grip on Red.
“Get her in the car,” I order as a burning ember floats overhead. A national park in early summer could go up like a tinderbox without warning.
I turn back to check on Calli and find him crouched over my birth mother.
She shudders and gurgles with every breath as he presses his shirt to the bullet hole in her chest. Blood seeps through, spreading across her stained t-shirt.
The tangle of sensations within me tightens into a hard lump in my belly, hatred and grief mingling together.
The woman’s eyes flit open, and recognition dawns in their green depths as she coughs.
I stare down at her. Her life’s marked by discontent and jealousy. This is what becomes of people who can’t be happy with what they have. If I’d joined her in complaining about everything I missed out on, or continually blamed my parents for ruining my life, I’d be just as pathetic.
Another thought follows behind the realization as my gaze fixes on Callisto. Maybe no one told Clarissa Jones she was amazing, or ruffled her hair when she passed a test, or kicked her bully’s ass. Maybe all it takes is one person to change the direction of a person’s life forever.
Callisto’s haunted gaze finds me, and I read his dilemma within.
He doesn’t want to save her life either, and he definitely doesn’t want to burden me with the choice. I rest my hand on his shoulder.
A trickle of blood spills from Clarissa’s lips as she opens her mouth. “Rick,” she murmurs.
My heart leaps in my chest, skidding against my ribs.
The woman who gave birth to me spasms, breath rattling through the foam in her throat, and then she goes limp, eyes staring vacantly past me.
Ah.
A tragic but fitting end to an unremarkable life, and a meaningless farewell from a mother who never cared for me.
She had no wisdom or apologies in life, so neither would I want to receive them at her death.
Let her merge with the dust and fade away.
I’ll be the only good thing that came from her life.
Relief blooms cool and sweet through my chest, bursting out with a gasp.
Callisto jumps up and grabs me as I stagger back a step.
“She’s gone,” I mutter.
“Yeah. She can’t hurt you again,” he murmurs into my hair.
Sirens weave in and out among the fire’s roar as we lean into each other, watching the building collapse.
“Come on,” Callisto says, tugging me away as the growing heat threatens to scald my skin.
Lewis offers the keys to the service car. “If you’re okay to drive, I can take the other car.”
“Sounds good,” Callisto says. “We’ll stop whenever we reach the OCB, and they can deal with this mess.” He points over his shoulder at the body on the ground.
I slide into the backseat, and Red reaches for me, making my heart flip-flop like a beached fish. “Can’t go a day without a crisis around here,” I mutter, thoughts muddled.
Red wags her brows. “I was thinking the same thing, but I think I figured it out.”
I shoot her a questioning look, and she grins. “All the world’s a stage, right? Well, I just happen to be such a damn good actress that whoever or whatever’s up there watching—” she juts an ashy finger toward the roof. “—they don’t want the show to end.”
Fuck, I think she might be right. I choke as my love for her and her craziness overwhelms me. The tears held back by adrenaline burst loose and pour out of me in an uncontrollable torrent as Callisto turns the car in a tight circle and accelerates away from the fire.
“No more,” I declare. “I’m getting a security team, and an anti-theft tag and . . .” My blank mind won’t give me any more options; I just know I have to protect her so this never happens again.
Red chuckles. “How about we start with staying home for a few days?”
I nod and swipe my tears. “I’m such a fucking crybaby,” I splutter when they won’t stop.
Red tugs me close, crushing my head to her bosom. “Yeah, but you’re my fucking crybaby.”
I chuckle wetly and cling to her, sobbing.
“White Mine cry for all of us,” Zack adds, patting my back. Yeah, maybe that’s why the tears won’t stop.
Callisto slows the car as fire trucks, local police cars, and the OCB all zoom down the road toward us in a colorful parade. He flashes our headlights and pulls over.
“We have Red,” he calls as agents swarm around us.
The firetruck rolls past, sirens wailing at top volume as it follows the flaming pillar in the dark night, but an ambulance pulls up beside us in its place.
“She’s got a neck injury,” I tell the paramedics as they get Red out of the car. Zack snarls at them but settles as Red explains they’re here to help.
“You’ve got some burns too,” Callisto says, pointing to my arms.
I look down in surprise, but the red patches don’t seem too serious. Nothing’s too serious compared to losing Red.
Red, draped in a blanket, turns back to us. “It’s not over yet. There’s one more thing we gotta deal with before we can rest.” The burning intensity in her eyes tells me it’s important.