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I turn on him. “Even if they do, you can turn them away politely, like a regular human being. One that knows how to interact with people,” I say evenly, doing my best to not lose it on him.
“Oh, shut the fuck up. Just because you’re a bleeding heart doesn’t mean I have to be one too,” he snaps. I’m ready to argue with him, but his bloodshot eyes tell me now is not the time.
He’s an asshole at worst and a distant coworker at best. We’ll never be friends, and as easy as it would be to spend energy pointing out every way he doesn’t do our bureau any favors, we need to find a way to work together.
“What’s all this?” I ask instead, grabbing the pile of papers and flipping through them. I do my best to push the Omega out of my mind, as there’s no room for distraction right now.
“Another overdose,” River mutters, glancing down at the macaron box. “Same stuff. This time it’s a school principal.”
“Shit.” I flip through the documents, glancing down at the autopsy report. “This garbage is everywhere now.”
“A fucking month of these deaths,” River mutters, plucking a pink macaron out of the box. He stares at it, frowning, holding it as if it’s a dead bug. “She really brought these to you?” he asks, turning it over in his hand. “And thought you would help her?”
I shrug. “She runs a café. And she was nice. You know, a concept you could try one day.”
“Hey, I’m perfectly nice,” he quips. “I’m charming as fuck, too.”
“I mean, when you’re not trying to get answers out of someone.” I watch as he fiddles with the macaron. “You know you’re supposed to eat those, right?”
“She was pretty,” he murmurs, still staring at the cookie.
I freeze. River never shows interest in any Omega, much less comments on their appearance.
He never bothers to talk about anything except work with me.
“She was,” I agree slowly.
“What was her deal?” he mutters. “What exactly did she want, anyway?”
“Well, before you, you know, interrupted her—” River shoots me a look, but I simply raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Her friend disappeared, and the local police aren’t doing much.”
He scoffs. “Figures. What city is she from?” But before I can answer, he takes a bite of the macaron and audibly groans. “Holy fugh,” he mutters around a mouthful of cookie. “Dats gool.”
I never see River eat; much less be enthusiastic about it. The only things I’ve seen touch his mouth are his never ending supply of coffee and the occasional cigarette.
He actually lights up when he eats Skylar’s macaron, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in delight.
Those cookies must be magical, because I swear the asshole looks ten years younger in that moment.
Huh. Interesting.
But before I can marvel more about that, there’s a screech of brakes followed by a loud thud that comes from the parking lot.
It sounds like someone just got hit by a car.
River drops the cookie and races out of the room, and I follow close behind.
8
SKYLAR
I make it out of the building before the tears of shame start to fall because I refuse to let that Alphahole see me cry.
A bribe? River was so cruel and dismissive, the exact opposite of his sweet colleague.
I hope he chokes on the cookies.
I’m sorry, April, I think to myself. I’ll figure something else out.
