Page 57 of Reed

“My wife is pregnant. Why the fuck would I want any other woman?”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t aware you tied the knot. When the hell did this happen?” They all stare back at me as if I’m insane.

“Semantics.” I waft my hand toward them, and Mase stares back at me with wide eyes while the others start laughing.

“So, what’s the news?” Owen asks as he perches his wide ass on the meeting table. Jesus, the guy is built.

“Mase.” I tap my pen on my chin and spin in my chair to face him, and he shifts from foot to foot under my stare. “I have news.” He gulps, and the fear in his eyes makes me want to rip his wife apart for putting the look of vulnerability on my best friend’s face. He was once the life and soul of our party. He had a promising career in his father’s empire, and everything went to shit when he agreed to marry her. Her manipulation, her cheating, all her cruel taunts about him not being able to give them a child have taken a toll on the man before me.

“I’ve been working on your case.” He nods along to my words. “The judge has thrown out her dispute.”

Tate sits forward. “What’s that mean, exactly?”

“It means in a matter of days, you’re going to be a free man, my friend.” I grin at him.

Mase’s mouth falls open, and his eyes widen.

“Holy shit, man, that’s incredible!” Tate booms, and rushes toward him, then grabs him in a bear hug while Mase remains stunned to the spot. Tate pulls back. “Too bad thirsty Thursday is almost dried up now.” He’s referring to the bet we used to have on Thursdays of who can get their cock sucked the most. More often than not, I would win, based purely on the number of girls I would get to do it, whereas poor Mase never participated, being a married man.

Owen grins from ear to ear, and Shaw slaps Mase on the back, congratulating him.

Tate stills, and judging by the smile encompassing his face, I know whatever is about to come out of his mouth will be amusing, because his eyes dance with glee. “You know what this means, right?” We all wait for him to elaborate. “The Indulgence app Reed loves is going to get some hammer. We’re hooking you up with the best goddamn escorts in town.” His eyebrows waggle, but I remain shocked at his words.

“Loved,” I snap, and they stare back at me. “You said, Reed loves when referring to the app. It’s loved. Past tense.”

Tate rolls his eyes. “What-the-fuck-ever. You can give him some pointers.”

I throw my head back in the chair, with a groan and pinch the bridge of my nose, while the guys start asking Mase about what kind of woman he wants to fuck first.

This case has cost hundreds of thousands and been in the pipeline for years, and all they’re bothered about is getting Mase laid.

As long as he doesn’t fuck up and fall for an escort, I tell myself as I gather my phone and keys, ready to collect Bryce.

* * *

Shouting comes from the locker room, and I find myself moving faster. Jesus, is this the prick who’s teaching the kids during summer break?

My early years at boarding school come rushing back, with the booming voice ricocheting off the walls of the corridor.

“Reed. You’re a useless piece of shit,” the track coach spits out while I kick my sneaker into the ground. “Your daddy didn’t want you and now the team doesn’t want you. No wonder your family left you here.” My coach’s words fill my veins with disappointment. He’s right. I’m useless. “No fucker wants you.” A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of being alone.

I shake away the memory and move closer. “You’re a sniveling little girl. You know that? A coward. You’ll never amount to anything.” There’s no way in hell this guy is getting away with speaking to kids like this. I’ve been on the receiving end of this shit, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all a child.

“Do you have anything to say, Bryce?”

My blood freezes and my breath stills.

Bryce?

My nostrils flare with an uncontrollable rage.

No. Fucking. Way.

I throw open the door to the locker room so hard it bangs against the concrete wall, making the douche coach jump back, but not before I see how he was towering over Bryce. When Bryce’s eyes lock with mine and his tear-streaked face comes into focus, something inside of me snaps.

I stride toward the piece of shit so fast he doesn’t know what’s coming, then I land blow after blow against his jaw, causing blood to splatter across the linoleum floor and up the wall.

“Oh shit. Reed!” Bryce’s startled voice filters through the red haze, and I finally pull back to take in the coach. His face is red and swollen, and he groans as he rolls on the floor in a dramatic fashion.

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