“That’s what I was telling you,” I whisper back, and as I do a weird grimace in Colt’s direction when he looks over his shoulder at me.
“You are so screwed. Take another four tablets, but make sure you eat something in the next few minutes. Ask him now!”
“Hey, do you think we can get a burger or something, I haven’t…”
“Yeah, Raney, I’ll even get your favourites, onion rings and a chocolate shake. Just this once though.” The impact of Colt’s response is instant. No shit, the way his voice drops low and gravelly, is like dropping a vibrator in my pants. I’m a hot horny mess.
The girls squeal excitedly in my ear, like so fucking loud I have to hang up and do a series of fake coughs to try to cover up their laughter. These bitches are meant to have my back in these situations, not feed my omega heart and get me in more trouble.
A second later, I get a text from Sim. Heidi Ho says we need photos.
My fingers fly over the screen. “I might sit here if that’s okay. I need to call the lawyers in a second,” I answer him while I shoot off a text message to the girls: You remember they all left me. Him included?
SIM: And he was super young.
Me: Four years of pain.
SIM: What if he’s been suffering too.
Me: What if he hasn’t?
SIM: Lucky you’re so fucking intuitive then isn’t it. I’m not saying forgive him or THEM this second but what if what happened needed to happen to make you all the people you need to be, so you can...
SIM: Soz, my fat fingers. I’m trying to tell you how insightful I am. YOU ARE NOT STUPID OR OUT OF TOUCH. I’d trust you with my soul. You’ve got this.
TRIS: Your life, you decide who is allowed in your life. You. No one else.
Leaning my head against the window, there’s still so much noise in my head. But I need to make more, I can’t stop and wallow just yet.
“Any news on King, Puck?” His name gets stuck, like it’s hard to say it. He’s Colt. But obviously there’s a story as to why he’s changed his name.
“I guess we’ll get an update when we get back. I’ll swing through the drive-thru and grab you some food first. Are you good now? You didn’t look so great before.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, the reminder of how I was feeling and acting, makes my head pound again in cringe. At least, it feels like my heat tabs are slowly starting to work. “I’m getting there. I need to make a call.”
Not waiting for his approval, I flick through my contacts until I find Koz’s lawyer, Giuseppe Florentino. Evidently Giuseppe knows who I am because he answers on the first ring.
“Ms. Raney, what do you need?”
“Central Bureau of Intelligence and Justice have Koz for questioning. I don’t know where the office is or where they’re holding them. God, sorry.”
Puck interrupts quietly. “Processing is Building D, on Beach Road.”
“Giuseppe, hang on, I’m getting the address for you.”
Puck repeats himself slower, and I pass on the information to Giuseppe.
“Don’t worry about Koz, he’ll be fine. I, however, will not be if you are in any danger or hurt or…” Giuseppe is very different from the Scorned Girls in his anxiousness.
“I think I’m okay. I’m sore. I got thrown to the ground,” I interrupt, eager to get this all done so I can concentrate on food, and Puck.
Except, I have to stop talking when a fury-filled noise makes it impossible to hear anything. Puck keeps growling as he slows the car, flicking the indicator on aggressively. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s about to turn the car around and go back to the police station.
“I’m okay,” I say a few times, trying to be heard over the noise he keeps making. It’s not the first time I’ve heard an alpha losing his shit, but it is the first time I’ve heard the noise coming from Puck. I go with distraction as a way to calm him, it usually works on Koz. “Puck, I need food.”
He stops snarling almost as soon as the words leave my mouth. As confirmation, my tummy gurgles at that perfect time.
And then I watch as his shoulders slump, and I can feel his disappointment. It kind of hits me in the chest, in the way he folds in on himself. I’m not surprised in a sense, the Puck I used to know was such a sweet, genuine person.
