Page 102 of The Hearts We Fumble
Colter nods, eyes flicking away. I can’t tell if Reed already filled him in on what he found or if his expression is just a reflection of all the shit I used to run from.
Reed leans forward, clicking through a few files. “All right, well, after the fight at Alpha Nu, I started digging into our boy Luca and those comments he made about your dad. I wanted to know if there was a connection there—something personal—or if he was just parroting whatever crap he read online.”
I shift my weight, watching as a folder expands across the screen. “And?”
“At first, nothing crazy. He googled your family, scrolled through social media, the usual stalker shit. His email didn’t show much either. I figured maybe he was just another dude with a grudge because you cut in and stole his girl—”
I tense, my jaw locking.
Reed leans back in his chair, his tone casual despite the bomb he’s just dropped. “Relax,” he mutters. “I’m just saying, I get why he’d be pissed. You show up, Wyatt stops talking to him, and when that doesn’t rattle you, he switches tactics and tries to get to you through Myla.”
My fingers curl into fists, my jaw locking tight. I knew Luca was a shit-stirrer, but I hadn’t thought about it like that before. I figured he was just throwing out low blows, trying to piss me off for the hell of it.
But this?
This was calculated.
“He couldn’t shake you with Wyatt, so he went after your sister instead,” Reed continues, his voice level like he’s breaking down game footage. “Classic move. Hit where it hurts.”
Behind me, Colter shifts, the sound barely noticeable but heavy enough to remind me he’s there—hearing everything. I keep my focus on Reed, forcing myself not to look at my best friend while my relationship with his sister is being laid out like some open secret.
I nod, forcing the thought away. “So what’s the problem, then?”
Reed hesitates, his lips pressing together. “It didn’t sit right with me. The way he came at you—it felt personal like something deeper was fueling that anger. And when I kept digging, I found something that might explain why.”
My stomach tightens.
I’d assumed Luca was just another entitled asshole with a bruised ego. But the look in Reed’s eyes tells me it’s more than that. And for the first time since I walked in here, I’m not sure I want to hear what comes next.
Reed exhales heavily, his voice carefully measured as he clicks through more emails. “It looks like his mom might have been one of the women your dad had an affair with…” His words hang in the air, thick with implication.
My entire body goes rigid. “Excuse me? What the hell would make you say that? You just told me you didn’t find much on Luca.”
Reed shifts in his chair, his fingers tapping against the desk. “Not on his computer. That didn’t lead me anywhere. So I started digging into the people closest to him. He’s an only child, so that meant looking into his mom and grandparents. It took some time, but I was able to access his mom’s emails. That’s where I found these.”
He clicks again, and an email thread fills the screen. The sender’s name isn’t what makes my stomach drop—it’s the email address.
James Kinnick. My father.
I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. “What the fuck…”
Reed nods grimly. “At first, it was all business. They were working together on a brand sponsorship deal when he was playing for the Hornets. The emails started off professional—talking contracts, setting up meetings. But then things shifted. The meetings became more private. More frequent.”
My jaw clenches. “How do you know?”
Reed clicks to another email attachment. “Because she was booking hotel rooms and sending the receipts directly to him. The charges line up with deposits I found coming from your dad’s business account.”
The room tilts slightly as the weight of his words settles. “He was using his business accounts to cover it up,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
Colter mutters a sharp, “Asshole,” while Hayes exhales a low curse.
“Well, it’s not like we didn’t already know he was a sleazy fucker,” Hayes mutters. “But this? Jesus. This is a whole new level. What else did you find? When was the last time they spoke?”
Reed’s expression darkens. “That’s where it gets interesting. This all started around the time your mom was pregnant with Miles. They met up regularly—same hotels, same patterns. And those meetings? They aligned suspiciously well with your dad’s away game schedule.” He hesitates, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk. “But the emails stopped about seven months after you were born.”
My stomach twists, my pulse pounding like a war drum. “Are you trying to insinuate—” I break off, my throat closing.
Reed gives a slow, measured nod. “Luca was born two months after you. And… five months later, his mother legally changed his last name to Calloway.”
