Page 81 of Carmichael's Omega

I nod, thankful.

Miranda starts to pat makeup on my cheek. "It also can leave you open to suggestions, so listen closely. I'm your girlfriend. You're bi. You met me a couple of weeks ago through your sister. You broke up with Dylan last week and haven't heard anything more than a couple of texts since. You've been ghosting him. This weekend you and I have been here, together. No one else, alright?"

I nod again. The drug, or potion, that Miranda gave me is working. I feel calmer, even though this situation is making me want to piss myself.

"OK."

"No drawing attention to Cassie or Carmichael, OK? There's no way that you killed someone, Mattie. They'll not be able to put pieces together if we leave some out."

I stiffen my spine. I can do this. It's on the tip of my tongue to ask about Dylan, but I don't. I can't. I can't lie to the cops knowing that he's lying dead in a hole in the desert somewhere.

Holding out my hand, she takes it with a smile.

"Let's go, Mattie."

I grab her hand tight, taking comfort in her presence. My apartment looks clean, but I can also see some of Cassie's things strewn around.

They'll think it's Miranda's stuff, I realize. It looks like she's gone and moved in with me.

The two officers step inside the apartment while my heart thuds despite Miranda's potion. The sandy-haired, skinny man greets us with a friendly smile. The smaller, darker man takes time to look around the apartment with a shrewd gaze. My omega-wolf eyeballs him. He's the threat, according to the wolf.

Every cop show I've ever watched runs through my head. I dub the sandy-haired, smiling man 'good cop,' and the intelligent one 'bad cop.'

"Matthew Daschel? Detective Grady and Markowitz," says the 'good cop.'

"Pleased to meet you," I reply politely because that's how you greet cops here to interview you about your missing 'ex-boyfriend.' Idiot.

"Hello," Miranda rescues me. "I'm Miranda, Matt's girlfriend," she stressed the word girlfriend as if she's jealous. I barely hold back from looking at her, startled at the bitchy-tone.

"Nice to meet you," 'good cop' replies. Shrewd eyes observe me.

"We're here to talk about Dylan Rodgers? One of his frat brothers called us. Mason Goldman? Do you know them?"

I nod, squeezing Miranda's hands. "Both of them," I offer. "Mason is in two of my classes, and, ah, Dylan is my ex."

"Mind if we come in?" Bad Cop asks.

Miranda nods and pulls me to the couch, sitting down and pulling me to sit right next to her.

"When did you break up with Dylan, Matthew?" Good Cop asks.

"About a week ago," I tell him. I blush a little as Miranda plays up the jealous girlfriend vibe by wrapping her arm around mine.

"And... when was the last time you saw him?" comes the next question.

"Same? We, um, Dylan, texted me a few times, but I didn't answer. I was dating Miranda."

Thank the goddess for Miranda's potion. I can spew those lies without spewing my breakfast. It's a miracle for omegas everywhere.

"When did you start dating Miranda?"

"A few weeks ago," Miranda interrupts smoothly. "Dylan didn't want to see the truth."

I blush hard. Yup, that's me, Good Cop. Just a cheater with no specific sexual preference. My wolf wags his tail. We have a preference, and it's tall, dark, and tattooed.

My mouth runs dry. I don't look down to see if I'm tenting my pants at the thought of Carmichael. That would probably be a bad idea.

"And you've been where these last few days?" Bad Cop asks. "You missed class on Friday, according to some of your classmates."

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