Page 175 of Catfish

I don’t get a response as I close the door to my room and lock it.

He crossed a line the moment he breached my porch on an alleged purpose to change something for the fundraiser but came up short on the rest of his story.

We both know he’s lying—and we both don’t care.

? Piece Of Your Heart — Mayday Parade ?

She’s lying.

I know what happened to her dress and the motherfucker who decided to touch her without permission.

Her cousin, Sadie, sang like a canary when I showed up, telling me she was upset, left in a hurry, and went home.

The problem was two things.

One, I wasn’t supposed to know what she was doing tonight. Shouldn’t have had an inkling of what kind of party she was hosting, who it was for, or had any involvement in it.

But as Chase, I could drag information out of her and pocket it. And the moment she said Montgomery’s son, I panicked.

Elijah Montgomery is the duplicate spawn of his father, Holden. A sleazy son of a bitch who, instead of fucking women and paying them, likes to molest the opposite sex because it's the only way his small dick is going to see the inside of a pussy.

The minute he saw Reagan, he'd get ideas. Ideas that don't include asking, if you know what I mean.

Which brings me to not being above beating a man to a pulp for touching something that belongs to me. And Reagan Shelton adheres to everything that is me by business, reputation, and what she shouldn't mean to me.

Number two is that my dumb ass never stopped myself from showing up on her porch in a calm rage while she stood in her doorway like nothing just happened.

I didn't even shut my damn vehicle off before marching up like a crazed maniac wanting to make sure she was alright. Besides looking a little paler than usual, she seemed to look okay.

But it did absolutely nothing to compose my inner fury.

It accomplished nothing when she tried to keep herself steady while knowing I was here on some bullshit.

Sitting on her couch and in her damn house, I turn on the TV to give me some background noise and alleviate some of my hysteria that’s been sprinting through my head. Now that I know she’s alright physically, I begin to handle the issue at hand.

Me: Set him up with a meeting in my office to discuss potential merging.

In English to the head of my security: beat the shit out of Holden’s kid and make sure he gets to limp home to tell his daddy. The merger is a solid object to his cock for even getting it hard in her presence.

“I hope you’re hungry because I ordered half of that Chinese restaurant you like.”

I glimpse towards the hall to watch Reagan walk into the room, and now I need a merger.

Baby blue shorts and a large white Adidas tee, Reagan looks like sex walking around to torture every living human being for any evil doings they’ve done in their lives.

And I’ve done my fair share.

Hence why karma is dishing out its perfect main course—literally—I could eat every inch of Reagan right now.

Padding around in her bare feet, her toned legs on full display for me to imagine them wrapped around my head, and don’t even get me started on the way my imagination runs with what lies beneath that baggy shirt.

“Sounds good,” I manage to croak out, prompting myself to look back down at my phone screen because I’ll just continue to gape at her like a horny teenager if I don’t.

She plops down on the couch, a safe distance away, and snatches up the remote.

“If you think we’re going to be watching any political shows on Netflix, you’re mistaken. The only one I’ll give you is Scandal.”

I almost choke on an uptight laugh but clear my throat. “Don’t know what that is.”

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