Page 83 of Reed

I tug on my favorite pink nightdress, hoping it covers my legs more. “Please don’t make me. I don’t want to.”

“Get your useless ass over here and suck it. Or I’ll make you. You don’t want to throw up again, do you?”

Jax makes a cooing noise and stirs in my arms, pulling me from the darkness. I open my eyes to the sound, but when I feel my father’s stiffening cock behind me, I move without thinking, and the knife slices through my skin. Reed rushes toward me with a roar, and Bubbles leaps out of nowhere, attacking my father’s ankle. Reed pushes me aside, and Bryce runs toward me while Reed is raining blow upon blow on my father’s face as they both fall to the floor with a heavy thud.

I wrap my arm around Bryce, kissing his head as he cries against me, protecting him from the sight of the men scrambling on the floor.

The sound of a click has me stilling, and I glance over the top of Bryce’s head to see a man holding a gun to the back of Reed’s head. Only now do I take in the blood pouring down his back, and a cry catches in my throat as I realize how hurt he is.

Reed holds his hands up, and the man with the gun allows him to stand up and step back. The grimace he evokes causes my stomach to twist, knowing how injured he is.

“Let her and my kids leave,” he grits out.

“They go nowhere,” the man states. He’s familiar, one of the many men my father had dealings with over the years, yet he looks straight through me.

“You can have me. Just let my family go,” Reed attempts again. “I have money. A lot of fucking money.”

“We want the boy.” The man remains firm.

My hands tighten on Bryce, and he clings to me harder, almost squishing Jax.

“You’re not taking my family,” Reed declares as his muscles bunch tight and his scowl deepens, the determination in his eyes unmistakable. While the fight in him should reassure me, it doesn’t. He’s unarmed, hurt, and willing to die for us. I can see it in his eyes, he will fight to the death to save us.

“You’re not in a position to argue, amigo.” The man chuckles darkly, and the door creaks open, catching his attention for a split second and giving Reed enough time to spin on the balls of his bare feet, where he moves swiftly, kicking the gun from out the man’s hand and knocking it to the floor. Then he grabs the man’s wrist, and the sound of it snapping as he pulls it backward bounces off the walls. Before the guy can register what’s happened, a knife sails through the air into the side of his neck, and he slumps to the floor almost instantaneously.

My eyes dart to the man in the doorway, and he sends a wink my way, then turns his attention to Reed. “I’ll secure the premises while you take out the trash.” Then he heads back out of the door, as if he was never there. “Medics are on the way!” he calls over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Reed rushes toward me, and his palms roam over my face as his eyes search mine for answers.

“Ye-yess.”

He cups my face in his hands. “Thank fuck, Gia.” His lips find mine, then he pulls back. “Thank fuck.”

My eyes swim with tears, and I nod. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little thief.” His lips crash against mine again. “So damn much.”

“Ew. That’s gross!” Bryce steps back and wrinkles his nose.

“Come here, buddy.” Reed places kiss after kiss on top of his head. “And don’t pretend you didn’t call me dad out there, I heard you.” Reed grins from ear to ear, and the sight warms my heart.

“Can I call him dad too, Mom? Like Jax will?” Bryce’s innocent eyes meet mine with such eagerness it has my throat clogging with emotion.

“I don’t see why not. If that’s what you want. What you both want?” I lift my head to face Reed, and his eyes shine.

“Damn right, buddy.” He lifts his fist out for Bryce to bump, and he does with a grin to mirror Reed’s.

A disgruntled moan comes from my father, and I freeze. “Gia, I need you to take the boys upstairs.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stepping forward, he lowers his voice. “I’m going to have him taken somewhere he can’t come back from. Are you going to have a problem with that?” He eyes me skeptically.

But the thoughts of never seeing my father again, never having to look over my shoulder or consider him breathing the same air as my children, have me shaking my head frantically. “No. No problem from me.”

“Good girl.” He bends and kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering longer than normal, and I melt beneath his touch.

“Bryce, take Bubbles with you.”

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