Page 37 of Unleashed

Chapter 5

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EXITING MY CAR, I CRINGE at the house looming before me. Why is every damn work event held at Brandon Rhodes’s McMansion? It’s insulting to those of us who are homeless and sharing a roof with a bloated toad who insinuates himself into every facet of my failed life.

It’s a chilly night, but as I walk toward the side yard entrance, outdoor heaters hum in a monotone. The white twinkle lights wrapped in floral garland winding through the trees and draped over every fucking place possible are overkill. I don’t know if his wife, Diana, has a Dollar Tree addiction or if she’s tight with Martha Stewart. Either way, she needs to find another hobby, like finding out her cheating husband fucks his decades-younger paralegal.

As I round the corner, I see the usual suspects infesting the pool area, though no one is in it. Rhodes holds no party inside his house. People just migrate there on their own. The heaters serve as a lure to keep people outside. Brandon loves showing off his riches but doesn’t want the poor folk to traipse through his wealth. Yet, everyone does. Unfortunately, that is how I found his sex room. Well, it’s less of a sex dungeon and more of a Viagra pit stop. I’ll have nightmares about the bed with no blankets and the cat toy-looking things hanging on the wall. I wonder if he has sex with Diana there before or after he screws Shasta. Regardless, I like to think the room smells like cat piss to keep me from impaling myself on a pitchfork.

I walk by a swarm of people and notice Shasta is in the middle, holding court with everyone, throwing compliments while I want to hurl bricks at her. In her arms is Birdy. I sidestep behind people to see Birdy but can’t.

Seeing Val, I walk over to her table and plop into the chair beside her. The woman’s smile always makes any ordeal more bearable. “Rod, I’m so glad you made it!”

“It was coming here or joining the army. I hate obstacle courses. And death.”

I glance at the mob with a scowl and notice Brandon walking out of the house with some guy and standing on the terrace overlooking us lowly peons.

Val angles her head past me and the other way before asking, “How are you doing? I know it must be rough...”

“Why didn’t anyone warn me about Simone being in Richmond?”

“I told Amos you were bound to run into each other.”

“That’s what he wanted.”

Val glances at me, hesitating. “What happened, Greg?”

Hating to lie but knowing it’s necessary, I shrug and toy with the gratuitous white tablecloth for an event celebrating a bitch of Shasta’s magnitude. “We argue too much.”

“Come on, now. There has to be more to it than that, dear heart. You and Simone were so...” Val is at a loss for words, and her frown makes me want to torch Amos’s Range Rover.

“It was a favor. That’s all.”

Val shakes her head and clutches my hand. “Neither of us believes that.”

“Hey, Rod.” Hadley smiles before setting her diaper bag on the ground and pulling out the seat next to me. Behind her, Wilder shifts Finley to his other arm while pulling out the chair on the other side of Hadley. Seeing Richmond’s former most eligible daredevil holding his kid is still odd.

Hadley leans forward and says hello to Val as I watch Wilder talking to Finley in a gentle, fatherly tone while she nods. The love-struck look on the douche’s face is the clean version of the one he gives to the kid’s mother. I’m sure he still congratulates himself for his cumshot winning out and his genes ransacking Hadley’s.

Wilder laughs, and Finley giggles as her spiky blonde pigtails bounce. Even her little blue jeans and green sweatjacket are cute. It’s ridiculous how this kid resulted from Finn and Hadley’s reunion tour. When Wilder turns, I see his daughter’s face and freeze. I haven’t seen her in months, and she’s grown so much. Her hazel eyes and pouty lips are familiar, unexpected, and beautiful. Except for the eye color, the kid I once thought was Dash’s, or maybe mine, is a mini-Simone. Possibly like the baby we conceived and lost.

“Rod?”

I blink and drop my stalker gaze from the kid to her mother. Hadley’s green eyes scour my face with a ton of questions, but she only asks, “Is something wrong?”

I shrug as Val clutches my arm in silent support. I don’t know if Amos blabbed to Val about my baby with Simone. And I don’t want to know. I’m sure Val is already disappointed enough with me. On impulse, I ask, “Has your brother met his niece?”

Hadley’s face hardens, and it’s my answer. Jared Beckett fucked up more than should be humanly possible. What happened to Dash wasn’t Hadley’s fault. Nor Wilder’s. Yeah, they fucked up too, but that stunted middle schooler shouldn’t have made the choice he did that night. Hadley hasn’t been the same since. Even I know Dash wouldn’t want her to blame herself.

I sigh. “I get Jared is still upset about Dash, but...”

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