“We can’t fight,” I exhaled in a gust. “She obviously spoke to Demi.” I quieted, pissed that the meddlesome Omega hadn’t gotten the clue. We’d made it pretty fucking obvious we wanted nothing to do with her.
“I’ll call her?—”
My cell phone buzzed, and I tensed, slowly lifting it. I kept up-to-date on the news, and the notification that flashed across my screen rocked my existence.
Killer Omega Now in Custody.
“She turned herself in.” I didn’t recognize my own voice.
“She wouldn’t.” Elias’ tone lashed with the force of a whip. He kept rubbing his chest. The distance from her would affect him the most with his half-bond.
My voice rasped with emotion. “She wanted to get away from us, and I think she took the option to make that happen.”
I hadn’t looked at them; instead, I navigated the site to get to the article, pulling it up in seconds, and turned the screen toward them.
“No,” Sinclair croaked, shoulders jerking straight.
The article stated she was being held at the downtown detention center.
“I’ll call our attorney.”
“I’ll start the car,” Sinclair announced as he pulled the drawers out and selected clothes.
My mind raced as I looked at my phone screen. We’d get her out on bail, then figure out how to clear her name. I paused, squeezing the phone and meeting Elias’ stunned gaze.
“If we can’t get her off the charges?” Doubt thickened in my throat.
“We’ll flee with her,” Elias stated, his eyes hard ice chips. It was the most focused I’d seen him, despite his drawn expression.
His words comforted me.
We were on the same page then.
Chapter 29
“Your turn, Rivera,” a guard called, his keys jangling on the key ring.Finally!
I stood, my thighs coming off the icy bench surface in the cell with a loudschwap.
He was the same guard who’d tossed me in here. After cuffing me, he’d shoved me in the empty cage, and then the waiting began. It had to have been a few hours based on the fading light coming in through the slim window opposite the cell. It was the only one in the cold room.
The officer unlocked the door, approaching me with a stiff expression, the mustache moving like it had a life of its own.
“Arms forward.”
I did as ordered, and he clipped cuffs onto my wrists.
“Will I be allowed my call?” I asked, my voice almost wheedling. I cleared my throat.Get it together.
“Face forward,” he snapped, yanking at the cuffs and sending sharp pain down my arms.
He guided me past a bunch of benches and lockers, through a metal door guarded by a woman at a desk behind the glass pane. They nodded at each other.
Once he pushed me into the hall, he stopped at a phone embedded in the wall.
“Make your call.”
I had to lift both my hands and keep one awkwardly suspended as I grabbed the phone and dialed in the only number I knew by memory. Holding my breath, I waited for the other side to accept my call.
