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“After that night, Cora apologized and forgave me. The three of us went to face Misty. In the end, I chose not to tell anyone about what she’d done if she’d not tell anyone for sure that the kid was mine, and it went without saying that I wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. In exchange, she promised not to tell Cora’s parents that we were having sex, which back then was a big deal. As for Trevor, the reason he was being so weird is because he thought he’d crossed the line videoing her doing that stuff. He thought we’d think he was a pervert. He only came forward because he saw how distressed I was.”
Any argument Detective Sparks had about the child not being responsible for whatever had happened between her parents died a quick death. She had no idea what to do with something like this. She’d had no choice but to let him leave though she was back to square one. Her talk with Ryan afterward didn’t go much better. He was understandably angry and wanted nothing to do with his wife or her daughter.
His only interest was in finding a divorce lawyer to extricate himself from the situation. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to pursue criminal charges against Misty because the murder charge should put her away for good, and as for Connie, it was going to take him a while to forgive the girl for what she had done.
Detective Sparks had spent the rest of her afternoon with paperwork since Misty had refused to answer any questions without her lawyer, who was out of town and won’t be back for another day or so. It had broken her heart to see young Connie being taken away by social services, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Once her desk was cleared, she was left with nothing else to do but think about Riley and his malfunction. She’d climbed into the overpriced SUV he insisted on making her drive intending on going home but had somehow ended up here with the two older women. Somewhere along the way, she guess she’d decided that it was a good idea to drown her sorrows.
“I’ve had a crappy day. Do you mind if I have some of that?” Celia pointed to the pitcher of lemonade she knew was spiked, and Lenore was only too happy to oblige. “I’ll get you a glass, won’t be a minute.” The older woman was only too happy to as she hopped up from her seat and went inside to do just that.
“What the hell is wrong with men?” Lenore stopped with the glass held out halfway to Celia after pouring her a glass of their homebrew. She’d only poured half a glass full for the girl, but if she was going to start off with a heavy-duty question like that, they were gonna need a hell of a lot more. She filled Celia’s glass and passed it to her before topping off her and Constance’s glasses since she was already standing. “Start at the beginning and talk slow.”
That damn Constance was always a busybody. Her eyes were practically gleaming as she waited for the young woman to start talking. Then again, anything to do with the delectable Riley, she was here for herself. They both listened as Celia went over her gripe with her future husband, no one interrupting until she was through with her tale of woe.
“Well, now, girl, have you fallen and hit your head on a rock?” Constance piped up.
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Chile, Riley is not one of them city men you’re accustomed to.” Lenore nodded her head in agreement as her friend set the poor girl straight. Bless her heart, she’s probably used to those metrosexual whatchamacallits and doesn’t have the first clue what to do with an omega male.
Though Riley isn’t exactly introverted, he fits all the other criteria for an omega, which is just slightly more frightening than an alpha. Bless her heart; the poor thing has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. ‘What she means is that you should probably glue that ring onto your finger and figure out a way to appease your man while you’re at it.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Celia sounded whiny even to her own ears. The two women rolled their eyes over her head. Things used to be so much easier back in the day when everyone wasn’t trying to prove a point about every dang thing.
“Let me explain it to her Constance before she ends up with a bottom red enough to rival a baboon’s. Listen to her chile; a ring to a man like Riley is a statement. It’s a sign of ownership, his way of telling the world that he’s staked his claim. That thing is big enough to be seen from Mars, which short of him pissing on you to mark his territory is the next best thing. You taking it off is like saying he don’t have the right. Them there is fighting words to a man like our Riley. He’s just like his daddy, ain’t he Constance?”
