Page 50 of Reed

REED

After droppingEmi off at home last night, I returned to my apartment to find Bubbles, the rat-bastard, had devoured my white leather couch. Stuffing was everywhere, making my normally immaculate apartment look like Christmas had come early and dumped a shit ton of snow in my fucking living room.

I turned my back on the mess and the yapping little shit and slammed my bedroom door, figuring I’d deal with it tomorrow. But once I slid into my silk sheets with thoughts of Gia on her bed springing to my mind, the little bastard started howling at my bedroom door like a deranged wolf with partial vocal cords. No wonder no fucker wanted it.

Then the scratching started, followed by the sound of glass shattering, giving me little to no choice but to throw open my bedroom door to check what the hell it had done. The dog pushed past me and jumped on my bed like she was competing in the Olympics, then did some weird circling motion before plonking itself on my pillow, reminding me of when the wolf dog at Gia’s did the same thing.

Thankfully, the glass vase she destroyed in this ploy to take over my bedroom is easily replaceable, but the fact I had a dog in my bed wasn’t. The thought of its hair all over me as I slept was too much to bear, so I did the only thing I could think of doing at 3:30 a.m. and grabbed the spare pillow to sleep on the floor. After all, it had obliterated my couch.

At 4:11 a.m., she joined me on the floor and woke me up by licking my face like I was its treat. How the hell can a little dog make a grown-ass man want to scream and cry? Plus, commit murder. I turned my back on her after delivering her with a tirade of expletives she deserved. Then somehow, I fell asleep, but when something warm splashed on my face, I shot up, expecting a water leak or something from my ceiling, not to be pissed on by a dog squatting over my face like I’m a damn fire hydrant.

My life is being destroyed by a shrunken bulldog with too much life in it.

I shot up, rushed to the bathroom, and slid on her dog shit in the process, then spent the entire morning vomiting from the trauma. Then I had to organize fumigators and a deep clean service for my apartment because there’s no way in hell I can return there after the shitshow she’s created.

Also, for some odd reason, I no longer like being on my own. Before Gia and our boys came into my life, I was happy with my solitude life, but now I realize I was just existing. I want to fucking live. Specifically, with them.

“I need to move into your house,” I tell Gia, and place another forkful of salad into my mouth.

Her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t tell me no, not straight away at least. “Bubbles destroyed my apartment last night. It doesn’t feel clean anymore.” I shudder as I consider my words. It probably won’t feel clean ever again, to be honest. Maybe we should get a new place before the baby comes anyway. “And it doesn’t feel right being away from you guys.” I admit, then hate how vulnerable I sound. “You might need me,” I tack on.

Gia starts laughing, and I ignore her despite the way her tits bounce with each chuckle. “How long have you had Bubbles, Reed?” she queries while a knowing smile plays on her edible lips.

My fork stills midair. I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want her to be aware of the lengths I’ve gone to, to prove myself to her and Bryce.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.” George Fanzio’s voice cuts through the air like glass, sending the fun atmosphere icy in an instant, and something behind the way he delivered his words has me believing his appearance isn’t coincidental.

The color drains from Gia’s face, and her eyes close as if she’s blocking us out. Annoyance rumbles inside me; is she ashamed to be seen with me? I quickly push it aside and do some damage control before he ruins my carefully constructed plans.

I stand and shake his hand. “George. Good to see you.” Then I clear my throat and hold my hand out toward Gia. “Me and Gia are an item.” I look at him pointedly, and his dark eyebrows narrow. “We’re having a baby together.” I smile proudly, and his eyebrows shoot up, surprise marring his face, whereas Gia bristles and shuffles uncomfortably, making me agitated at her lack of enthusiasm at my declaration. What the hell is her problem? Is she ashamed to be with me?

Discomfort swirls in my stomach, and self-loathing infiltrates my bloodstream. Does she think I’m not good enough for her?

She went to great lengths to be with her husband, and she speaks so proudly of him too, but me? She can’t even admit we’re an item. She doesn’t think I’m worthy enough to be her partner. Am I not as good as Jaxon? Even the thought of him sends bitterness rushing through my veins, a potent jealousy I’m not used to, and I know here and now that I would fight to my death to keep her and our kids. There’s nothing I won’t do to get what I want.

“Gianna, you never mentioned that you and Reed were in a relationship the last time I saw you,” George chastises, and his face turns from shocked to gloating, a sly smile playing on his lips. I shift from foot to foot, the weight of my secret weighing heavily between us. “And you’re pregnant with his baby too?” His smile grows wider, and I swallow back the bile threatening to erupt from inside the pool of dread lurking deep within me. “How… perfect.” He grins sinisterly. I’ve chosen to ignore the power George holds over me until now, and something tells me I need to figure this shit out sooner rather than later. By the look on his face, he’s loving every damn minute of this.

“My baby has nothing to do with you,” Gia spits back with such hatred, I rear back a little, stunned at her sharp, spiteful tone. This is not the Gia I know. She stares straight ahead, not even giving her father her attention, and frankly, I’m shocked at how rude her behavior is right now, and the fact she referred to our baby as hers is not lost on me. Not at fucking all. In fact, it’s infuriating and another reason to feel not worthy.

“Gia!” I clip out, sharper than I intended, and her head snaps to face me, the venom in her eyes full of fire after a flash of hurt crosses her pretty face first.

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She inhales through her nose, then exhales and throws down her napkin and pushes back in her chair, while I remain stunned at her outlandish and childish behavior.

George waves his arm in her direction as she gathers her purse and searches inside it. “She’s always like this. But she has the nerve to label me the bad guy,” he grumbles. “You need to learn to control her.”

I’m too shocked at Gia’s reaction to fully comprehend his words.

“I’m hardly surprised you chose to leave her at home last night and bring another woman to the event, because she has no clue how to behave in public. The problem is, she’s been slumming it for far too long.”

I wince at his words, and Gia jolts before throwing some cash onto the table, then she turns to walk away, but I grab her wrist to stop her. To say what, I’m not sure. I don’t want to explain my actions here, not with George as an audience, any audience for that matter. I scan the room uncomfortably while I try to come up with something suitable to say.

This is why I don’t do relationships. This is why I pay women for sex and nothing more. I don’t like complications, and I have no clue how to deal with them.

Hurt laces her face, and tears swim in her eyes. “I can pay the bill,” I grit out, despite that not being what I wanted to say.

What I want to say is, you’re acting like a bitch. It’s our child, not yours, and finally, she needs to stop acting like a goddamn child if she wants our relationship to work.

But I say nothing.

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