Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I’m on a mission to locate Reese. Any feelings of sympathy I harbored for him disappeared the moment that little shit went after my business.
I’m not sure what he’s up to. Knowing him, he doesn’t have a plan. He just wants to mess with me. I should be impressed that he stopped snorting coke long enough to make the deal happen.
Point to him. He’s won this round.
But I won’t let this indiscretion go unnoticed.
When I arrive at his apartment, I knock on the door. I don’t need to be rung up because my name is on the list. It’s been there for years. Back when Alexa and I would crash at his place after a night of partying. When we were actually friends.
This is not my first time stopping by unannounced. Just goes to show how gone he is if he hasn’t had me removed. He can’t be bothered to make a change like that, but he can organize a multimillion-dollar real estate deal. Fucking bullshit.
This will be my last time here. After this, I’ll have my own goddamn name removed.
I knock on the door, and when he doesn’t answer, I resort to banging my fist against the wood. “Open the fucking door, Reese!” I yell. He’s probably passed out in his own vomit somewhere and can’t hear me.
“I’ll break down this fucking door.” My fist raps on the door a few more times before I hear footsteps behind it. Then the door swings open.
Reese, as per usual, looks hungover. Actually, he seems like he’s still high.
His nostrils are flared and red-rimmed, but it’s the lockjaw that confirms he’s been snorting coke and probably still is.
That’s probably what took him so long to get to the door.
I should leave because there’s no point in talking to him right now, but the part of me who still cares about him and misses Alexa as much as he does wants to attempt to get through to him.
He doesn’t say a word as he lets me pass through the doorframe. He turns on his heels and walks toward his living room. I’m quick to follow and not at all surprised by the scene in front of me.
On the glass table is an open bag of coke and a few lines already set up beside it. He sits on the couch while I remain standing with my arms crossed at my chest.
Reese reaches forward and grabs the rolled-up dollar bill.
“Want a line? For old times’ sake?” he practically slurs, indicating he’s already had way too much.
“You need to stop that shit.”
“You’re no fun.”
“It’s going to kill you.”
“You mean like it did her?” I blanch at the mention of Alexa. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s still jarring. “Are you here to be my dad? Spoiler alert: I already have one of those.”
“He’s not doing a very good job.”
“You’re not telling me something I don’t know.”
Despite me being here, he leans forward and then inhales.
“Why are you here?” he asks as he wipes the remnants away from his nose.
“You know why.”
His brow lifts until understanding hits him because his lips tip up into a smirk.
“Doesn’t feel good to have something you care about be taken away from you.”
“It’s a fucking building, Reese. I’ll find another.” I shrug, knowing there are greater issues at hand. “You need to stop. I get it, you miss her.” I point at my chest. “I miss her too, but it’s got to stop. Snorting another line . . . buying a building out from under me . . . It isn’t going to bring her back.”
“But replacing her will?”
My hands ball into fists. But I don’t play into his jab because he’s high.
There is no reasoning with him when he’s like this.
“I’m out of here. I’m not gonna watch you kill yourself.”
“Because you care.”
“I do. Regardless of all this shit, I do. But I’m done, Reese. What you did? Not cool. I get you’re in pain, but going after my business . . . I’m done. I don’t want to see you again. Don’t come to my club anymore.”
“You can’t keep me out.”
“Try. You won’t be allowed access.”
He starts setting up another line, and I know if he keeps going, he will actually kill himself. I step forward, pushing him back onto the couch. He’s so damn high he doesn’t even put up a fight. After I round every last bag of coke I can locate, I head to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. I don’t bother checking on him again, leaving him alone to do whatever he’ll do. The chances he has more hidden are high, but it can’t be my problem. I could stay, but I refuse to watch another person die.
32
Bailey
The door flies open to Drew’s office, and in walks what can only be described as a very pissed off Drew. His face is hard, and his body tense. He looks scary.