He huffs, the line crackling with his annoyance. “Cal-ee come?”
“Yes, I’m on my way. Keep saying you were listening to music.”
“Okay. Hurry.”
The line clicks off, and I switch back to Red, relaying Zack’s message. “I’ll find out what happened,” I promise.
“Thanks, Callisto,” she says in a shivery voice. “We’ll be waiting, so drop by the tent when you finish.”
The way my heart leaps at the invitation makes me shake my head at my foolishness as we say goodbye. “You’re a lovesick little puppy, Callisto,” I scold myself after hanging up the phone.
I catch Hale on my way out, asking him to search for any bail appeals where the applicants cited frequent time in solitary as a reason. Maybe I can spin this situation to show Zack doesn’t understand the rules. Or that he’s being unfairly targeted. I’ve lodged the request for an appeal, but the justice office is dragging their heels. Most likely whoever barred Zack’s bail has a hand in this too. I’m going to need a third party to apply some pressure.
I play Zack’s words over and over in my head on the drive out. It’s plain as day that they got attacked and Al gave him a story to tell. The gruff criminal boss seems to have an odd affinity for explaining things to the feral.
The prison’s expecting me, so this time I only have to wait a few minutes before getting into the visitation room. Zack gets brought in, locked in chains and simmering with annoyance.
As soon as the door shuts behind the guards, he asks, “Cameras in here?”
I shake my head. “No, just you and me. Did you get attacked?” He frowns and clams up, so I try again. “Al told you what to tell the guards, right? But you can tell me the truth.”
Zack crosses his arms. “But Cal-ee sends lawbreakers to cells.”
I wag my finger at him. “Usually, yes but now I’myourlawyer, so I try and get you out of prison. Tell me the truth so I can help—” My tongue tangles and I stop as the strangeness of our conversation catches up to me.
Zack only said a few garbled words, but I understood him pretty well. I know he’s learning at a frightening pace, but do I have a talent for understanding ferals? Zack’s the only one I’ve met, but maybe I could help others as well.
Zack grunts. “Truth? Alphas attack Al.” He turns his hands upside down and rings his fingers around his throat. “Squeeze here until he turn blue. Me—” He frowns. “Me or I?”
God bless him, working out the finer points of grammar. “I,” I tell him.
“I stop them. Then Al cut this off.” He holds up his index fingers, and my stomach rebels. Zack stares at me, blue eyes intense. “Ray talk but Zack hold back,” he declares. “But next time, I calculate and challenge him.”
“Good,” I say without hesitation.
And there I have it. The answer to all my professional conundrums: I’d rather protect Zack than uphold the law.
“But you can’t get hurt or caught fighting,” I warn, thinking of Red’s distress from feeling the bond.
Zack grunts. “Al and Owen say where cameras watch.”
Well, at least Alhedy’s earning his pay. As I study Zack, I can’t help but think of the pitiful alphas trapped in cages in the mechanics’ basement, experimented on and forced into rut against their will. While technically rescued, those men will get thrown in yet another prison cell and, if written off, potentially euthanized.
How many smart alphas like Zack are out there with nobody to interpret for them, nobody to believe in their potential? Zack’s only been free for a few months, and he’s already talking about complex topics like plotting revenge. Now he sits here, logically weighing his options. Like a sponge, he’s absorbing everything, hungry for knowledge and meaning. The speed of his progress astounds me.
And Red was the only person who looked into his future and saw it all while he was still raving like a madman. My heart throbs, feeling like it tears open under the strain of the injustice.
“Zack,” I ask on a whim. “Would you like to help other alphas who are feral like you learn how to live?”
He twitches. “Who?”
I spread my hands. “Like the other fighters from the kennels. Most of them still live in cells in prison.”
He cocks his head, eyes narrowing, and a growl vibrates in his chest. “Go live with Red?”
“No.” I chuckle. “You don’t have to go that far. Just . . . I don’t know yet, but something different from prison.”
His jaw works as he considers until he nods slowly. “Zack knows. The scents, the challenges. Small, cold cells. Hurts.” He taps his chest and then his head. “Hurts big time.”
