The Lab: Rigg (Beyond River’s Edge #3)

1. Rigg

1

RIGG

I didn’t know how to do this dad thing—not even close. But when Connor and Lily crossed my path, there was no way I could leave them on their own any longer. I recognized their scent instantly and knew they were from the lab, but not the one I had been to. They were from a different lab.

And wasn’t that the biggest fucking problem?

Every time somebody shut down one lab, there were five more popping up. I still didn’t know how Connor and Lily got away or how they ended up sitting in a dumpster behind the department store in the city. They had no memory of anything that had happened, and when they looked up at me, they asked me if I was their dad.

It just about broke my heart.

At that point, I had two choices. I had to find someone to take care of them or take care of them myself. I chose the latter. I told them I wasn’t their father, but that I would care for them as if I were. Given what I knew about their conception, they probably didn’t have actual parents. So many children born in the lab were conceived in petri dishes and implanted into surrogates. It would be impossible to locate all the people who made up their genetics, and even if I could, the odds of them still being alive were low.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a network of people to help me figure out my next steps. The man I’d called father was gone. It was just me and my adoptive grandpa left, and I worried I was putting him in danger every day. It wasn’t safe for him to be around me, but I needed his help. And he was always quick to give it.

Grandpa Joel was a normal human who happened to be there when my father and I were on the run. He knew more than he should, but not enough to put a target on his back. At least that was what I believed in the beginning.

As I got older, I realized that no one was safe around me.

Not too long before my father died, he told me to be human. He wanted me to live a human life and never, ever use my abilities or share who I was with anyone. He thought that would protect me. And it might’ve, but I’d never be fully protected.

My abilities were too coveted for the lab to let me live in peace.

If the lab had been completely shut down, I could've tried the human thing. I could’ve obeyed my father’s last wish. But they were still harming shifters, and since I was one of the few beings who had the ability to do something about it, I couldn’t walk away.

Once Dad died, I took to this weird life where I would break into various labs at the most opportune times and either mess things up or try to get information leaked in an attempt to get those inside the help they needed.

I wished there was more I could do, but there wasn’t. I even attempted to create some networking groups through the dark web using names I thought might connect to the right people. But so far, that didn’t get me any connections at all. Maybe that was for the best given I had not one, but two little ones counting on me for everything.

As I watched the kids absorbed in their “quiet time,” I heard a car coming down the gravel drive outside my window. Sure enough, when I glanced out the window, it was my grandpa. He had a laundry basket full of what looked like grandchild-spoiling supplies. That was his way.

He knew that Connor and Lily were here, or as I described it, “I had some new pups.” Because even with someone I trusted as much as him and the burner phones, I didn’t dare say more than that over the phone.

I estimated that they were a few years old, but that was all it was—a guess. They knew so very little about themselves, and most of what I’d learned was from them telling me their “bad dreams” which I had no doubt were actually memories.

I opened the door and my grandpa walked right in, setting the basket on the table and pulling me in for a hug.

“Are they from—” He didn’t say the word. He didn’t have to.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how long they’ve been out. I tried searching to see if I could figure out where they came from, and I can’t. Obviously, they don’t know. All they told me was they were thrown away.” Since I found them in a dumpster, I had a feeling they meant that literally.

He gasped, then gave me one last squeeze and walked over to where they were eating little fish crackers and watching a bear cartoon on the tablet.

It wasn’t good parenting—I knew that—but I had to get ready to leave. I was out of money, and I wasn’t going to be able to get a job until they were a little older. But that was the best I could do. I couldn’t risk putting them in daycare. I felt guilty as it was for bringing my grandpa into this. If they shifted early or had some sort of abilities, no provider should have to witness that and put a target on their back.

He smiled warmly as he watched them. “You must be Connor and Lily.”

They both looked up at him and nodded.

“I’m Grandpa Joel. I’m gonna hang out with you guys, if that’s okay.”

Connor picked up his dish of fish crackers and held it out to him. My grandpa picked one up and popped it in his mouth.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I called, and left without making a big deal of it. I read someplace that’s better for kids. Who knew if it was right or not? The learning curve for this parenting thing was steep.

I climbed onto my motorcycle and drove into town, where my car was parked in a public lot. It was awkward and uncomfortable on my bike. I was wearing multiple layers of clothes and had my backpack on instead of my normal gear, but that couldn’t be avoided. I was doing something that could get me in trouble with the humans today, which meant I needed to take extra precautions.

Once the garage was in sight, I parked my motorcycle and headed into the municipal bathroom to strip out of my sweatpants and hoodie, leaving me in slacks and a button-down shirt. I took out a picture of the person I was about to impersonate, and after absorbing the image, I shifted into his look-alike then shoved my sweats back into my backpack and left

Was this level of precaution overkill? Maybe, but it wasn’t just me anymore.

Inside the car was my briefcase. It wasn’t very professional inside—really just a tote bag, a cap, and a pair of flip-flops—but it was part of the look. I hadn’t driven the car in quite a while and was grateful when I turned the ignition and it started.

For the next forty-five minutes, I drove to Oak Grove. I had a place not far from there, but I’d been keeping the kids in the cabin where it was safer. This time, I parked on the street and then went straight onto a bus. I made sure to go the long way back, using three transfers just to confuse anyone who might try to find me. There were more cameras in the city now than ever before, and I couldn’t get caught.

All right, you can do this.

I walked inside the bank and waited my turn. This was the bank John Wallace Stockard used. He was one of the big wigs at the lab in Oak Grove, and I was currently wearing his face and clothes similar to those that he would normally wear.

Glancing between the tellers, I saw one who obviously recognized me, giving me a smile and a half wave. I crossed my fingers she’d pick me. I didn’t have any ID, and I really needed this cash.

Fate was in our favor.

“Mr. Stockard, welcome! What can I do for you today?”

I walked up to the counter and handed her the signed check—the one I’d stolen last time I was in the lab. I’d made it out for $8,000, figuring that was a safe amount but not enough to trigger any warnings. “Just a quick withdrawal.”

“Hey, I hate to do this to you, but I need to ask what the money is for—you know, regulations.” What she also needed to do was check ID, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Oh yeah, of course.” I coughed and sniffled, hoping she didn’t notice my voice wasn’t quite right. I was pretty good at matching them for people I’d met in real life, but for John, I went by a social media video his kid made and it was close enough, I hoped. “Wren, at the office, his husband is about to have a baby, and we decided to do a money tree.”

“A money tree? I haven’t heard of anyone doing those in ages. It’s such a practical gift and very generous.”

I shrugged and tried to seem humble. “Well, we collected it as a group. I’m just the one bringing in all the cash. You know how people are these days with their money transfer accounts.”

“I know—hardly anyone even comes in here anymore.”

I’d written “Wren baby gift” on the memo line and hoped that was good enough to move on. What I didn’t tell her while she was getting me my cash was that Wren was the closest thing I had to an omega father. He was my birth dad, my lab surrogate. I never met him, but my alpha father told me about him. And the money was technically for me, so there were no lies there.

But also—it was going to let the lab know that somebody had been in there.

Was I playing with fire? Absolutely. But I had kids to protect now, and there would be no real future for them while the lab was still going. It had to be shut down. There was no other way. Something told me putting them on edge was a good idea. If I was lucky, it would cause internal conflict.

She came back with an envelope of cash, and I thanked her and told her to have a great weekend. I walked out with the money safely in my briefcase, grateful she was human and couldn’t hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest. The cameras would be easy to access and see the entire conversation, so Mr. Stockard would be looking for who stole from him.

But that was okay.

I had a plan.

If a plan was a sort of formed group of random ideas.

Back on the bus, I finally took a deep breath and then made two more transfers until I got to the main terminal. Back in the bathroom, I took off my shirt and shoes then swapped them out for the flip-flops that were in my briefcase, as well as the hat. I shoved the unneeded clothing back in my bag. Underneath the slacks, I’d been wearing an old beat-up tee and ripped jeans. I morphed my face to some guy I saw in a lemonade commercial years ago and put on the cap.

The next bus was already there, so I climbed on and headed back to my car to go back to the parking lot where I would change back into my sweats and take my motorcycle back to the kids. It was an arduous journey, but it was better to be safe than sorry. For now.

The $8K would be enough money to get us by until I could figure out something else.

One thing was for sure—I had to figure something out quick. Life couldn’t go on like this. Not for me, and certainly not for the children.