18. Reed
Chapter eighteen
Reed
Here I am, minding my business as I take note of what needs to be stocked in the OR when Taryn appears out of nowhere and snatches the back of my scrubs so tightly, she chokes me.
“What the fuck?!” I hiss as she drags me out of the supply closet and towards the doctor’s station in the ER. She doesn’t answer as she forces me to sit down in a rolling chair in front of an unoccupied dual monitor.
She reaches around me before slapping my cheek lightly and then pointing at the screen. “Pay attention.”
I touch my jaw. “You didn’t have to slap me—”
“My god! Shut up!”
She opens her web browser before typing the name Arthur Stout into the search engine. Two links down, she clicks open an article that was posted two days ago by an influencer who was at the same event as the political candidate.
“What is this?” I ask.
“I’ve been doing some digging since I got home last night,” Taryn says.
I finally get a good look at her, only to notice the dark purple bags under her eyes. “Oh. Does Emma know about this?”
She presses a finger to my cheek before forcing me to look back at the screen. “This isn’t about me, genius. This is about your fucking spy girlfriend.”
“Spy girlfriend?” I ask before the pieces connect, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Taryn, Thalia isn’t a spy.”
She scoffs before tapping her nail on the computer screen. “Then you read this and tell me what the fuck your interpretation of it is.”
I sigh before taking out my reading glasses and balancing them on the tip of my nose. My eyes scan the lines and as I read, everything begins to slow around me.
“I was sipping a sparkling mocktail at the city’s most talked-about charity gala when the evening took a dramatic turn.
Just as politician Arthur Stout—always eager for a photo opportunity—stepped out of his car, the blood of Miami ran cold.
He was fatally shot from a vantage point high above (the detective’s words.
Not mine) before the whole event erupted into chaos.
It was like trying to wade through water just to get away from the shrill shrieks and sobs surrounding me.
That is…until I saw something no one else did.
I just so happened to look up as my guards were escorting me to my car when I saw her—long, raven black hair, almost like a doll’s, the sharp stare of someone who’s done this a time or two, and pale, perfect skin that was almost like porcelain.
She was gone just as quickly as I had seen her.
None of the authorities would entertain my findings, but if anyone was there that night, I would love to connect on what you witnessed. ”
I reread the paragraph. Over and over. My mind is trying to play catch up as my pulse pounds in my ears.
Long raven hair like a doll’s.
Pale skin.
The stare of someone who’s done this before…
“No…” I whisper as I shake my head. I can’t tell if it’s because I don’t believe it or I’m trying to convince myself that this person wasn’t Thalia—my mystery girl.
“Just think about it,” Taryn orders as she plops down beside me and uses her hands to talk. “She was found at that event. She fell from the same building that detectives claim the shooter was posted at. The hair and the body match the details of the perp. Everything aligns with this being Thalia.”
I’m still shaking my head as my brow furrows. “But why? Say she did do it. What was the point?”
Taryn smirks. “Now you’re thinking like a true crime junkie.” She pulls up another article before highlighting a few lines for me to read.
…it’s said that Arthur Stout had many enemies due to his vile actions and horrible disposition. Back in October, his security team picked up on a possible bounty left on his head…
“A bounty?” I ask out loud, still trying to process all of this.
“Like a spy or some shit would complete!” Taryn shakes my shoulders, clearly excited. “My guess is that she was completing the bounty to get the payout and that Brooks guy happened to find her.”
A memory I haven’t thought about in a long time slams into me like a freight train.
“What if I told you there is a whole underground network of assassins—hitmen who take money for eradicating targets?”
Burton’s words cause cold clarity to wash over my psyche. When I speak, it’s barely audible. “Not a spy. A hitman.”
“What?” Taryn asks as I rise from the desk.
“I-I need a moment,” I say distractedly. “Have you seen Burton anywhere?”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Seriously?! I just uncovered this huge secret, and you’re worried about our boss?”
I close my eyes, using a hand to stop her. “Just tell me where he is. I need to know.”
She sighs in defeat before flicking the mouse. “He’s in his office. I want details later!”
I turn on my heel with purpose. My brain is running a thousand miles per second and I can’t quite seem to grip the reality of this situation. No matter how much sense it makes.
Was this it?
Is this why she keeps pulling away?
She’s an assassin?
That’s…so crazy it could be true. Am I really thinking this? Am I being rational enough? What if this isn’t the truth and I’m looking for answers that could harm her?
I’m not Brooks. I’m not her past. And I’m sure as hell not going to let her go even if she is killing for hire. There’s got to be something bigger I’m missing. She’s close with her family. What if—
I run into someone and instinctively reach out to steady them with my hands on their biceps. I’m far bigger than most of the men who work here, and I know this hit had to take the wind out of them.
“Reed?”
Damn.
I glance down at Galene before releasing her, as if her touch physically burns. “Sorry, I’m looking for Burton—”
She places a hand on the center of my chest, stopping me from stepping around her as her fingers curl into my scrubs. “This is the second time we’ve run into each other like this. I’m starting to think its fate.” She purrs.
I grab her wrist, my flesh prickling unpleasantly as my neck tingles. I glance behind me at the sensation of eyes watching, but find nothing as I pry the director off me.
“I’ve already said I have no interest in you,” I say evenly but firmly. “I have a girlfriend, and she wouldn’t appreciate you touching me, Galene.” I lightly push her arm away before subtly wiping my fingers across my thigh. Anything to get the memory off them.
Her face hardens and loses that delusional playfulness fast. She tilts her head as if I’m below her, her gaze narrowing into something dangerous. “I’ve already told you that I hold your career in the palm of my hand, Reed.”
Something ticks inside me. This unconsensual back and forth has become far bigger than a problem. And all I can think of is Thalia. How angry she would be with this woman here for touching me, and the thought turns my stomach bitter.
“Then fire me,” I reply. “But don’t ever touch me again—WHAT THE FUCK?!”
She grabs my balls. Grabs them. My reaction is instant and violent. I jump back, creating space between us as anger boils over. “You’re sick, Galene.”
She smirks, unfazed by her public groping in a healthcare facility. “And I bet your little girlfriend could never fuck you the way I can.”
I lift a finger to her face, closing the distance between us as much as my nausea will allow. “Don’t you ever touch me again or say anything about her. You keep us out of your fucking mouth or I’m going to HR.”
I don’t wait for her response. I can no longer be in her presence without feeling sick. As I stalk down the hallway, it’s taking everything in me to calm down. I feel violated and guilty for some reason. I know it’s not my fault, but still…
All I can think of is Thalia.
She wouldn’t be angry with me; I know that. If anything, she would be enraged enough for both of us.
Every step I take is like an out-of-body experience. Even when I close my fingers around the door handle of Burton’s office, I’m still not fully here.
“Reed, my boy!” the owner says with sheer delight from behind his oak desk. “What can I do for you?”
I clear my throat, forcing myself to come back to the present. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about the hitmen you mentioned—”
He waves a hand as he shushes me loudly. “Shhh! Close the door!”
I comply, sealing us in his office before taking a seat across from him. He types on his keyboard with hard presses of his fingertips before addressing me. “Getting curious? What changed?”
“Umm,” I glance down at my lap before quickly looking away at the memory that plagues me. “Well, I just really wanted…to hear more.”
That’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know what I’m piecing together.
He slaps a hand on the wooden desk as he makes a rough sound in his throat. “I knew you would give in! The gala is tomorrow night. I can introduce you to my connections and get the ball rolling.”
The gala.
Thalia warned us not to go, but that was before the playing field shifted—before I was close to the truth. I have to know.
“We’ll be there,” I say with a nod.
“Excellent!” Burton claps. “Make sure Taryn and her wife are with you too! The more, the merrier.”
I turn back towards the door before stopping. My hand is paused halfway on the handle as another question rests at the tip of my tongue. “Hey, have you heard from Brooks recently?”
Burton opens his mouth, but what comes out isn’t his next sentence. Our blood runs cold at the shrill scream of someone down the hallway.