AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In fact, it was impossible for me to. So much shit would come up if I did, shit I couldn’t explain, and the fact that I didn’t have security would only be the tip of the iceberg.
“If I wanted you, I’d have you, and no fucking cops would keep me from you…”
He’d been right, of course, when he’d said that. I didn’t know why I’d bristled after he did. Like I’d care if his crazy ass wanted me, but he had something there. Even if I or my mother attempted any ramifications against him for the video or anything else, there probably wouldn’t be a point. There hadn’t been back when he’d kidnapped me.
God.
Back then, Thatcher had literally told the cops the reason he’d done what he had… stalked me, then kidnapped me was because he liked me. He liked me and did the wrong thing.
I couldn’t make this stuff up.
It’d been the thing of nightmares, and I’d been the victim. My mom had come for his family, but she had nothing and neither had the guy she’d been with at the time. She’d actually been engaged to Thatcher’s football coach.
Everything was ruined after that summer. It was like the kidnapping had been a catalyst, and Thatcher frickin’ Reed had been responsible. He’d ruined so many lives, and there’d been zero consequences. He walked away completely unscathed, and I had a feeling coming for him now would result in nothing but the same.
I felt truly dizzy, locked from action with my cell phone in hand, and I really wanted to believe Thatcher was stalking me. I mean, he’d done so before, but he kept telling me to get security. Why would he do that?
Because he’s crazy.
This all felt like a game, a dark and twisted game, and Thatcher Reed made the rules. He did like he had the summer when I was twelve, but I’d been a kid back then. I’d been scared, powerless.
I was still scared, but I wasn’t fucking powerless. Thatcher wasn’t going to win this time, and he was definitely right that I needed security. I needed it to protect me from him, and I knew exactly who to call after a Google search.
“Reed Corp. How can I connect you?” a woman chirped into the line, and there was no hesitation. My Google search came up with some surprising information. I’d merely looked for contact information. I needed the number of someone Thatcher would listen to and probably the only person who could stop him. He would to avoid the PR nightmare that was his son, but then I saw his name linked to a security firm both online and otherwise. Knight Reed, Thatcher’s father, had the means and resources in which to keep people safe.
Just like he obviously had for his son.
CHAPTER
SIX
Thatcher
I was surprised to get the text from my dad about lunch for a few reasons. One was because he didn’t text. It wasn’t that he couldn’t. He just didn’t. For the most part, his secretary, Jonathan, set meetings up.
The other was because it’d been a while since I’d seen him. I was in school, yeah, but he worked a lot.
I dressed nice for lunch. My dad booked one of our favorite places to eat on campus, a fancy Italian restaurant few people outside of a Reed could get a reservation at last minute. My family had roots in Italy, and my dad had a favorite table at this particular restaurant. Pembroke-U was his alma mater, and I was excited to see my dad. Again, I didn’t see him a lot.
I tried not to fidget in my pleated pants and dark button-up. I didn’t mind the country club shit, but I was more used to jeans and cutoff tees. I greeted the maître d’, and he spritely headed me back toward my dad’s table after calling me sir. This dude had known me since I was a kid, so that was always fucking weird.
He was cool as shit, though, and I shook his hand with a snap after he left me to head behind the wall to see my father. My dad had a private table, and I was glad I got to talk to the maître d’ a bit before he left. He helped me get out some of my nerves.
I loved my dad and was really happy to fucking see him, but things had been kind of tense lately. Awkward.
I shook that shit out. I wouldn’t let him see my fucking nerves and stopped acting like a bitch when I rounded the wall.
Dad wasn’t alone.
“Ah. There he is,” Dad said, rising from the table. He dwarfed that shit since he was big as fuck like me, and across from him sat a girl.
A snowflake.
What. The. Entire. Fuck.
Aspen had her fingers laced, innocently glancing up and up until she made eye contact with me. She stood too, sans sunglasses and hat today, in a peach-toned dress that hugged her body too good and heels that showed off her pert little toes. They were painted red just like her lips and fuck had I thought lip gloss brought out that full mouth. Her lips were entirely fuckable right now, and I was tempted with the expression she was giving me. It was a smug expression, a cocky expression, and set off red flags like a son of a bitch.
The fuck you doing, snowflake?
