Page 36 of Point of Contact

She wasn't expecting agreement from him. Ever, really. But he probably felt guilty. Bad that her father was dead. She should probably feel bad about it too, but it was almost a relief. His existence tainted her whole life. Her whole self. Made it so no one cared who she was, only about her connection to him.

They also never judged her for who she was. Only who he was.

Just like Reed had.

"My father and I were never close. We didn’t have anything in common." She continued tracing across his chest, following the hard line of muscle there.

"You might be a little alike, considering how comfortable you are taking things that don't belong to you."

Reed's comment was a reminder that he still believed, at least partially, she was an apple who hadn't fallen far from the family tree.

"If you're trying to compare some petty criminal shit I learned how to do—thinking it would get him to notice me—with trafficking billions of dollars’ worth of drugs into the country, then you can fuck all the way off."

Reed opened his mouth, but quickly clamped it closed again.

It was a smart move.

But then his lips parted a second time and he took a deep breath. "I wasn't trying to be an ass. I thought maybe you were sad you were nothing like him and I was trying to find some sort of connection that might make you feel better." His dark eyes moved over her face. "But if you want the truth, I don't see any similarities." His fingers went back to toying with her hair as he continued. "Even at your worst, you’re nothing like the Emiliano Vasquez I knew."

She wasn't sure what part of that had her chest tight. The fact that Reed genuinely didn't think she was like her father, or the fact that he'd tried to make her feel better. The attempt failed, but he still tried, and that was more than she could say for anyone else in her life.

"I wasn't close with my dad. Ever." The words came out as a soft whisper. A shameful admission she'd always thought said more about her than it did the man who contributed to her DNA. "He was never interested in me or concerned about getting to know me in any way. He just threw money my way and assumed I would take care of myself."

"It seems like you did." Reed's deep voice helped ground her in the moment instead of the past. It made it easier to face her mistakes. Her bad decisions. Her failures.

"I think saying I took care of myself is a stretch. I mostly just acted out and tried to get him to pay attention to me any way I could. It didn't matter if he was mad or disappointed or frustrated. All I cared about was that he noticed me. Remembered I existed.” She pressed her lips together, trying to smother out the wave of emotion threatening to make her voice wobble. "But it never lasted. He would pay whatever it took to make what I’d done go away and then he’d move on. Sent me back to whatever house I was living in with whatever adult he’d hired to be in charge of me."

She'd been through a string of nannies and babysitters and even bodyguards. Every one of them got tired of her bullshit and walked away. She couldn't blame them. Sometimes she drove herself a little crazy. When she finally figured out nothing would get her father's attention, she moved on to finding friends. Buying herself company and community. Her life had always been transactional, so the fact that her friendships were also paid for didn't chafe the way it probably should have.

"What about your mom? Wasn’t she ever around?" Reed's question reeled her back in. Stopped the spiral of self-loathing she easily fell into.

Reminded her there was a reason she was the way she was. Two reasons, actually.

"My mother didn't want to have to deal with my father. The minute she left the hospital she drove me to his house and left me on his doorstep." The story sounded unbelievable, but it was true. "Literally. She literally left me in a car seat on his doorstep and never came back."

Reed stared at her second, unblinking. Like he was shocked. Most people were, but for her it was old news. A wound that she'd carried her whole life.

"That's fucked up, Courtney. You know that, right?" Reed's words were sharp. Almost angry.

"It was smart. If I could have gotten away from him, I would have." She paused. "I did, I guess."

Her mother's abandonment hurt. Always would. But that didn't mean she didn't understand. Especially as an adult, seeing what her mother would have gone through. What it would have cost her. As much as it fucked her world up, her mother had done the right thing. At least someone had been spared.

But Reed was already shaking his head, the motion rocking his skull against the pillow. "No. It's fucked up. Mothers don't leave their babies on a drug lord’s doorstep and walk away."

She chewed her lower lip for a second, letting what she was seeing sink in. "You sound angry."

"I am fucking angry. It's bullshit." There was venom in his voice. "It shouldn't have fucking happened. You shouldn't have had to grow up the way you did. It—"

Anything else he was going to say was sealed off when her mouth hit his. The move was unexpected but not unwarranted.

He was angry for her. Pissed at the life she'd been given. He actually gave a shit about what she'd been through. All she'd lost. Everything that had been taken. And it drew her closer, chasing the connection he offered. The empathy he showed.

The closeness.

She'd never been close to anyone in her life. Never had anyone interested in her feelings or her thoughts. Never had anyone share theirs with her. And it made her want to share more with him. Made her greedy. Desperate for just a little more.

Reed's hand came to her face, gently holding her in place as he leaned back, breaking off their kiss. His eyes held hers. "I don't think you really know what you're doing right now, Princess. You’re emotional—"

---