The Last Word #2
"Here we are," Detective Warren smiles at his notebook. "Mr. Maleth mentioned to a colleague that he took a call from you the night he died. Monday. Is that true, miss?"
I press my hand to my mouth and let my eyes go wide and wet. "Oh my God. I did. I did call him. Is he really—" I let the sentence fall apart, trying to look too overwhelmed to answer clearly.
No one wants to talk to a hysterical omega.
"What did the two of you talk about?" he asks gently.
"I was home with a couple of friends that night," I say, just like we practiced it around the kitchen table until it stopped sounding like a story at all.
"With who?" Detective Warren lifts his pen, ready to take notes.
"Owen Cruz and Mack Shaw," I say, giving Mack our rehearsed alibi. "I was with them the whole evening. I borrowed Mack's phone to call Crispin. I don't have my own. Omegas aren't allowed."
"And what did you call him about?"
I make my chin wobble, then shake my head. "I'm sorry. I just. I can't believe he's gone, I keep—" I press the back of my hand to my mouth and breathe like I'm holding something back.
My mother makes a small sound of disgust through her nose. She has never been able to stand the sight of me crying in her presence.
I reach out and take Adrian's hand. He folds his fingers around mine, like he’s holding me up.
"Crispin was an old friend of the family," I say once I've gathered myself.
"When he heard I was mated, he sent his congratulations.
That's all. I only called to thank him for the well wishes.
" I glance up at Adrian, then back at the detective.
"We didn't talk long. He said he was busy at work and had to go. He seemed fine. Rushed, but fine."
"What happened to him?" Adrian asks quietly. "If you don't mind my asking."
"And what’s your name?" The other man, Detective Wong, finally speaks up.
"Adrian Bennett." He extends a hand, shaking both men’s hands. "And this is my friend, Nicolas Cruz."
Nico nods at both. "Nice to meet you."
Detective Wong nods, then his eyes slowly narrow. "Were the two of you at Maleth Media on Monday night?" he asks. "Around nine?"
"We were," Adrian says at once. "I had an appointment with Crispin that evening."
"What was the meeting about?"
Adrian glances at Nico, then he shakes his head.
"I honestly couldn't tell you. He called and asked me to come by, so my buddy Nico and I went up. Crispin talked our ears off about nothing for about ten minutes, then he got a call and rushed out like the building was on fire. He told me he’d call me later.
" He shrugs. "He seemed kind of nervous. "
The younger detective writes it down. He doesn't look convinced or unconvinced. He just writes.
"Please." I make my voice small. "Will somebody tell me what happened to him?"
The older detective gives me a look that's almost kind. "The details aren't fit for an omega's ears, miss. I'll spare you." He tucks his notepad away.
"Do you have anyone in custody?" Nico asks. "I mean, there has to be at least a hundred cameras in that place."
Detective Warren presses his mouth into a thin line. "It seems that half the city had a reason to wish Mr. Maleth ill." He sighs. "But we're running down every lead we've got."
I want so badly to smile with relief that they don’t think my alphas were at fault, that I turn into Adrian’s chest and hide my face so no one sees.
He wraps an arm around me and presses his lips to the top of my head.
I let my shoulders shake, hoping everyone thinks I’m just a delicate omega overcome with emotion.
"We'll be in touch, Mrs. Van Houten," Detective Warren says to my mother. "You and your attorney both. Thank you for your time."
Calla whispers to both detectives to follow her out this way, then their footsteps fade, until I’m forced to turn and face my mother.
"Well." Lavinia lifts her pale drink and takes a slow sip.
"That's what comes of a man who refuses to take his personal security seriously.
I told Crispin years ago he was careless.
Walking through parking garages alone like some nobody.
" She sniffs. "Money means nothing if you're too arrogant to guard it. "
I don’t say anything. I just let my face go dry and still. There's no point in the tears anymore. She never believed them to begin with.
Lavinia’s hard gaze drifts to Nico, and then to Adrian, and they go wide like she just realized they were here. "I invited my daughter to lunch. Not her mate," she snips. "And certainly not his hired muscle." She glares down at me. "They can wait in the hall."
Heat rushes up my neck. "Mother—"
"It's alright." Adrian turns me by the shoulders to face him and kisses the tip of my nose, easy and unbothered, like she isn't standing three feet away throwing off all that rage.
"We'll be right here. Both of us. You go say what you came to say.
" He leans in and drops his voice so only I can hear him.
"Our bond's wide open. We feel one ugly thing, we're through that door before you finish blinking. "
I square my shoulders, smile at my two mates, then step into the sunroom, my mother pulling the doors shut behind us.
I love this room.
It’s all glass and green. Sunlight pours down through the domed ceiling onto rows of ferns and orchids and a lemon tree in a terracotta pot, and the air hangs warm and thick with soil and citrus.
In the middle of it sits a little wrought iron table dressed in white linen.
A plate of warmed bread waits at each setting.
Cut flowers stand in a low crystal dish, and my mother's good silver is laid out for lunch.
And my father is sitting in one of the chairs.
I stop.
He looks up from his phone, and the sight of me barely registers before his eyes cut past me to my mother. "Are those men gone? The police."
"Gone," Lavinia says, crossing to her chair. "For now. They'll be back, I'm sure. This whole business is going to be a headache for weeks."
Father sets his phone down and starts to rise. "Then I'll leave you to your lunch. I've calls to—"
"Sit down," I say firmly, and both of them go still and stare at me, because I don't think I've told either of them what to do in my entire life. "Please. I want to talk to both of you. Together. It won't take long."
My father’s brows pull together, but he does slowly lower himself back into the chair. My mother stands with one hand on the back of hers, chin tipped up, watching me.
I take a breath. "I'm mated," I say. "But not to one man." I hold my mother's eyes, then my father's, so neither of them can pretend they misheard. "I'm mated to a pack. Three alphas and a beta. They're mine and I'm theirs, and it's already done."
My mother’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I swear the silence rings all around us.
My father's face goes blank, then he frowns, like he’s struggling to understand.
So I show them. I reach up and pull my collar down on one side, and then the other, baring my throat to both of my parents. Three imprinted marks stand out against my skin. Two on one side, Nico and Adrian, and one on the other, Mack.
My father comes up out of his chair so fast, it falls back. "You—" His face floods dark red and a vein stands out at his temple. "You filthy, ungrateful—. Do you have any idea what you've done to this family's name? To mine?"
Lavinia has gone white and rigid, one hand pressed flat to her pearls, and she looks at my throat like I've smeared myself in filth. "Cover yourself," she hisses, before rushing toward me. "God. Cover yourself before someone sees."
I take a quick step back, holding out one hand to stop her, and thankfully she does.