Page 6 of Hot for Hostage

That was the name Gladys had mentioned the other day. The family who could stop the young thugs terrorizing our shelter: Sebastian Reed and his son, Davian.

I warned myself not to jump to conclusions, but my heart thundered at this crazy stroke of luck.

“Need anything else, Sadie?” Bruno whispered. I was still standing in front of his register with my hand frozen halfway to the counter. The flyer trembled in my grip.

My mouth opened and closed, but it took a second before I could form words. “I… uh, no. Sorry. I’m good. I just need to finish taping this, then I’ll be on my way.”

I wasn’t even paying attention to what my hands did, but I somehow taped the flyer to Bruno’s register. Clinging to the stack of papers like my life depended on them, I took a deep breath and slowly faced the two men.

It took one glance to know which one had spoken. If the man in the suit wasn’t one of the Reeds who owned the city, I’d bet all my savings he was at least related to them.

He towered over me, leaving me feeling small in his shadow. Dark brown hair called attention to his equally dark eyes. He was looking down at a fancy watch, and he had a chiseled jaw my fingers itched to scratch like I did for Mr. Woofkins.

If I had to guess, he was in his late twenties. Maybe a little older in that suit.

He wasn’t the greasy mobster I’d expected—the kind with slicked-back hair and pinstripes.

He was… beautiful.

I wasn’t complaining.

But there had to be hundreds of Reeds in the city, and I needed to be sure.

I swallowed for courage, but my voice came out as more of a squeak. “Hey, you look familiar. Aren’t you—um—I think you’re?—”

Bruno cleared his throat behind me. “You should run along now. Come back tomorrow.”

My flight instinct kicked in at his urgency, but my knees threatened to buckle when Mr. Reed’s dark gaze met mine. A predatory coldness in them raised the hair on the back of my neck.

“I think we’ve met before,” I lied, ignoring Bruno. “Isn’t your name…?” I trailed off as my voice decided to give up and stop working. Nerves ricocheted around my stomach like pinballs at having this scary man’s attention on me.

“Davian Reed, and we haven’t met,” he answered shortly.

The room tilted around me.

Davian Reed.

My gut screamed at me to run far, far away, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He could be the answer to our prayers.

“Mr. Reed, I need to talk to you about something important?—”

“I’m not interested in buying any cookies.” He averted his gaze, brushing me off without a second thought. “Maybe another time.”

“Cookies?” I echoed quietly. I frowned and glanced down at my short overalls before shaking my head. “No, I’m not a Girl Scout. It’s about the Happy Tails Haven dog shelter. We’re in trouble?—”

“He said to get lost,” the other man snapped, and I tried not to stare at the muscles that bulged in his arms when he crossed them.

But I wasn’t ready to admit defeat so easily. Bear needed me, so I lifted my chin and focused on Davian. “Please. You’re the only one who can help us.”

He looked at his phone, not even sparing me another glance. “Then I guess you’re out of luck. Vince, take care of this?”

Bruno protested as the scruffier man stepped forward, and I hopped back with a squeak. The stack of flyers fell from my arms, scattering across the tile floor.

Oh no.

“I’m so sorry,” I said to Bruno as embarrassment washed over me. I dropped to the floor, scrambling to pick up the scattered papers.

Mr. Reed’s shadow—Vince, he’d called him—sighed before crouching in front of me and less enthusiastically sweeping flyers into a pile. My cheeks burned hot, and I stammered another apology before a soft glint beneath his jacket caught my eye.

---