Page 8 of Reed

“You got it, boss,” Nick says. He must not have hung up because I could still hear everything. So I hang up instead and drop my weapons off before heading upstairs. Sleep won’t come to me until Ben finds himself on the wrong end of my knife.

I spend the next thirty minutes diving as deep into the dark web as possible. Once again I find nothing, and I want to put my fist through the screen. It’s like someone has taken who she was and replaced it with what they want us to find. There is someone who might be able to help. But it’s too early—or late, depending on how you look at it—for me to call him, so I settle on emailing him.

Leon,

I need your help finding anything andeverything about Ali Thornton as soon as possible. You know where to find me.

Reed

My phone dings as soon as the email sends.

Nick

Ben finally came through. I have our opening. Mr. Blaze. I’ll bring you what I got in the morning.

Fucking finally. Now I can get rid of the rat under my feet and finally bring down the people who hurt the person I hold dear and near to me. Before heading back to the basement, I send another message.

Me

Hook. My house.

On a mission, I don’t stop until I’m back in the cell with Ben. There is a little pep to my step. Forgetting weapons, I decided to do this old school. He starts to scream and thrash around, but it’s no use. With both hands framing his face, I whisper, “This is for Tara. Next time, think twice before touching someone that doesn’t belong to you.” I twist his head to the right and revel in the sound of his neck breaking. Once he hangs limp against the chains, dead and never capable of hurting another human, I return upstairs. I fall into bed, fully clothed, and dream of my blonde-haired goddess.

Chapter Five

Ali

Wednesday came and went without anything out of the ordinary. There was no feeling of someone watching me, and I was able to push Professor Ass to the back of my mind. After working my shift at the diner, I made enough that, when combined with the tips from my night at the bar, I was able to pay the deposit to get the gas turned on. Their only open time slot was Thursday morning between eight and eleven, meaning I would miss most of my classes. I debated heading to class and asking someone to let the company in, but I haven’t gotten to know any of my neighbors. So, I emailed my professors apologizing and telling them one of my boys was sick. I attachedall my homework to the email and promised to get the notes I missed. I received a reply from each one of them, but Professor Black.

I try not to let that bother me as I spend the morning with Caleb and Jacob. We spend the morning playing and reading the books we borrowed from the library. Every time an hour passes, I get more upset that no one is showing up. Finally, at eleven-forty, I call the gas company. It turns out that they never needed to come inside my apartment. They were able to do everything at the side of the building, which means that I missed class for nothing. Pissed, I hung up on the customer service representative without saying anything else.

After a quick lunch of box mac-n-cheese for the boys and toast for myself, I pack their bag and grab my backpack. I need to go talk to the financial aid office and let them know I’d decided to drop a class. I did the math over and over last night. Every time, the end result was the same. There is no way I can pay the balance. Yesterday morning, Carol–the diner’s owner–told me she would have to cut my hours in half because her daughter was moving back and needed a job.

She apologized repeatedly, but I assured her everything was okay. It was total and utter bullshit, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I only make eight dollars per hour there. My take-home pay is shy of three hundred dollars a week. Now that is being cut in half. While I get paid more at the bar, I only work twelve hours. Which makes my check every week around one hundred and thirty dollars. We were barely holding on as it was. Now, I’m scared we are one bad day in tips away from living in the car again.

I’ve tried to come up with ways to cut our bills in half, but it’s not simple. There are things we can’t go without. Rent, electric, water, gas for the Jeep, and food. To some, they will look at that list and the total of my checks and not see how I’m poor.But they don’t know what I pay for this place. It’s too much for the small space and the condition of it. So, after stopping by the school, I’m heading to another apartment for a tour. It’s a studio apartment above a garage. But that also means the rent is almost half as well. We will go from paying six hundred and seventy-five dollars to three hundred and twenty-five dollars.

By the time we leave, it’s the boy’s nap time, so Jacob is fussy. He cries pretty much the whole drive to school. As usual, he passes out when we are five minutes away. After parking the Jeep, I carefully remove my stroller and place Caleb in it. He doesn’t make a peep as I lay him down and cover him up.

On the other hand, Jacob wakes up and starts crying again, refusing to lie down beside Caleb. I try to soothe him on our walk up the hill. Finally, he falls back asleep on my shoulder. My lungs burn due to Jacob’s added weight and pushing Caleb up the steep hill. But I push through the pain.

Once inside, I head straight up to the second floor. There are more people in the office this time, and most of them turn to stare at me. I try not to let their looks bother me. I know what others think when they see me with the boys, but I can’t change who I am, and I love my boys with all I have. Jacob starts to fuss again, and after another person sends me a dirty look, I exit the office. I sit my bag on the floor and check on Caleb, who is still sleeping soundly. I start to pace back and forth with Jacob, lightly bouncing him in my arms.

“Come on, Jacob. It’s okay, my sweet boy. Sleep is fun and good for you,” I say, rubbing his little back. But nothing I do or say helps him. His cries are getting louder and louder. On one of my passes, I run into someone. I stumble back but don’t fall because arms wrap around my waist. The moment their hands touch my body, I know who it is, and I pray for the ground to open up below me and swallow us.

Looking up, I see Professor Black staring at me with his stupidly handsome face and breathtaking eyes. Jacob lets out another loud cry, and without saying anything, the stupid jerk takes my baby out of my arms, bringing him to his chest. My jaw drops at the balls on this man. As I’m about to demand he give my child back, Jacob snuggles into Reed’s chest and quiets down. “There, there, little man. I got you,” Reed’s smooth voice calms him even more.

“How did you do that?” I ask, amazed.

His big hands are rubbing Jacob’s back. I try not to stare at them and wonder what they would feel like on my body. But I fail, of course, until he opens his mouth to say, “Babies feel our emotions.”

My eyebrows shoot up as I pull my eyes from his hands and cross my arms. “Are you saying that this is my fault?”

Reed chuckles before saying, “No, but he could feel your frustration, which was also making him frustrated. Is this the little one who wasn’t feeling well?”

At the mention of the white lie I told earlier, I move my gaze from Reed to the door behind him. “Actually, no,” I whisper. Students leave the office behind us, reminding me why I’m here. I reach out my hands to take Jacob. “Thanks for getting him back to sleep, but I’ve got to get going.”

Reed steps back and nods his head toward the office door. “Go on. I’ll stay out here with these little guys.”

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