Knot A Trace: Part One

“Hey, there’s been another one,” River says. He walks up to my desk as I’m looking at a toxicology report. “This time ten minutes from Isleton.”

I sigh and look up at him. Even though the news is grim, he’s practically smiling.

It’s another reason for us to be near Skylar.

“There’s probably a new dealer out there,” I add. “I can make a trip, probably tomorrow.”

Ever since Skylar entered our lives, there’s been a sort of…truce with River and me. I know he still doesn’t like me, and I don’t particularly enjoy his company either.

But our banter is easier. He doesn’t shoot daggers at me every time I talk to him, and I don’t have to bite my tongue every two seconds.

We have something in common.

We both want to take care of Skylar.

“I can go, too,” River adds. “Try to buy some O and see what happens.”

It’s only then I notice what’s in his hand.

“Is that a macaron?” I ask carefully.

I’m not jealous.

I’m not.

But he must sense it because he smirks at me. “Yeah. Skylar gave me a box to bring back. I forgot to tell you. They’re in my office.”

He’s practically gloating and gauging my face for a reaction.

He really is insufferable.

I grip my pen tightly and peer back down at the toxicology report. The newer doses of O seem to be more potent.

Nothing in the report tells me what mimics the Omega pheromones, and I rub my forehead.

It’s all the same.

We don’t have any answers.

I try to ignore the sound of River eating what should have been my cookies too, until my phone buzzes.

I can’t help but smile when I see the picture Skylar sent me. It’s a messy counter, with bags of flour falling over and multiple colors of frosting laid out in large blobs.

First day back at work. The shit I have to deal with.

My heart races as I type out a response.

It’s better than staring at reports all day, I assure you.

I need to see her, I decide.

When are you free? I add.

“Her ex-boyfriend is an asshole,” River says. I forgot he was there; I look back up to see him watching me curiously.

“What?”

“Skylar. Her ex treated her like shit,” he confirms. “Fucker didn’t think she was worth having a pack.”

That gets my attention. “She told you all that?”

He shrugs. “She alluded to it, and I’m not fucking stupid. He’s a prick.”

My inner Alpha stirs awake, seething with anger at the idea that she was treated so terribly.

Then, I put it together.

“Let me guess. You looked him up?”

River snorts. “Of course I did. He’s clean, no record. But he’s still a piece of shit. Posts on social media about the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. Who the fuck collects lifted trucks?”

I grimace. “An asshole.”

“Yeah. An asshole.”

My phone buzzes again, and I read her response.

I’m off Sunday. Do you have time then?

River keeps staring at me pointedly until I’ve finally had enough.

“River. What?”

He’s never in my office unless he needs to be, and he’s lingered longer than usual.

He shifts uncomfortably. “Look. You know I fucking hate you, right?” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “I’m aware.”

“And you know I think you’re a smug piece of shit that thinks he’s too good for everyone else?”

“Did you just come here to insult me?” I snap. “What is your problem?”

“Look, what I mean is…fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, you like her, and I like her. And…I think…we could both be good for her.”

I blink at him. “Okay,” I say. “And?”

“I mean if…if you want to, you know, we could both…”

I know exactly what he’s saying, even if he can’t put it into words. “Are you five years old?” I ask, mimicking his words from earlier in the week.

He scoffs and throws up his hands. “You know what, asshole, I’m trying to be nice, but—”

“Let’s go see her Sunday,” I interrupt. “She’s free then.”

He nods. “Okay,” he grumbles. “Asshole.”

He leaves my office, and I stare at my doorway, dumbfounded.

What the hell just happened?

I expected him to fight me for Skylar, not offer to share her.

Can I do this? I can barely tolerate him.

But Skylar deserves the world. And if she wants both of us, I’m not going to be the one to tell her no.

Did I just form a partial pack with River?

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter under my breath, pinching the bridge of my nose.

I feel a headache forming, but at least I have plans to see Skylar.

I text her my reply, and my spirits lift.

Sunday is perfect.

I haven’t been to this apartment in two years. The welcome mat is run down, showing signs of wear, and there’s no noise coming from inside. The paint is chipping off the door, and it might as well be an abandoned unit.

But he’s in there. I know it.

He’s never been a fan of me or River showing up unannounced, especially when we were all under intense stress.

But old habits die hard, and I’m not about to start caring now.

Not when Skylar is involved.

It takes a full minute of knocking, but the door finally cracks open.

The minute he sees my face, he tries to slam the door.

But I’m expecting it, and the steel-toed boots I wear protect me when I stick my foot out to stop it from closing.

“Five minutes of your time,” I say calmly.

Vincent looks the same as he did two years ago, except for his eyes. The blue has turned a murky grey, as if part of him died.

I suppose it did.

But River and I chose to stay while he left the bureau entirely after the tragedy.

“No,” he says to me, his voice low and raspy. “Go.”

“You’re the best detective I’ve ever known,” I say. “I wouldn’t be here unless I needed to be. Five minutes of your time, Vincent. Please.”

He narrows his eyes, but I hear the chain to his door unlatch.

“Two minutes,” he says. “Not five. Then you can get the fuck out.”

A ghost of a smile crosses my lips.