–Me: Four stitches. Pain meds.
–Sebastian: What the hell.
–Grant: Shoulda been there to lend support. I didn’t realize you and Bobbi would be attending Rachel’s party.
–Me: Rachel loves me, and I was trying to be nice.
–Nicholas: I should’ve gone. I honestly didn’t think anybody was going except Griffin.
–Emmett: When I heard about what happened to the cake and Bobbi, I couldn’t believe it.
What he can’t believe is that anybody would be stupid enough to ruin a party at Dad’s place. He hates people who interrupt him, but what he absolutely loathes is a good party gone wrong. In his mind, the purpose of life is to party.
On top of that, the disgusting duo made a big mistake in injuring Bobbi. Dad might never remember her name—memorizing such details is an effort and that’s what Joey’s for—but her being my girl and wanting to have babies is etched in his mind forever.
–Griffin: You should’ve seen Mom’s face. I’ve never seen her that angry.
–Emmett: Bet Dad was pissed too.
–Nicholas: What a way to ruin your career. They were hoping to break into acting, right?
–Me: At least the girl was.
–Griffin: Mom’s going to blame them when her relationship implodes.
And her little romance with her boytoy of the moment will expire within the next four weeks—at the outside. Her relationships don’t last more than ten or eleven weeks, tops. But it’ll be blamed on Reggie and Floyd now. In Rachel’s world, nothing is ever her fault.
I put the phone away and look at Bobbi.
“I gotta go pick up some stuff from my place,” I say. “It won’t take long.”
She nods, her eyelids drooping. “Don’ worry ’bout me.” Her words are slurred from the meds. “I’ll be fine.”
Remains to be seenis on the tip of my tongue, but she doesn’t need an argument right now. She needs some tender attention.
I wander around the house, grabbing stuff she might need. Her phone, Kindle, TV remote, a bottle of water.Anything else?I look around, but the items in my hands seem adequate. If she weren’t injured, I might bring her wine, but no alcohol until she’s fully healed.
I leave them on her nightstand. She watches me with amused affection. “Y’know my legs are fine, right? Hands’re fine, too.”
“Believe me, I know your legs are fine.” I kiss her. “Now, shush. Bedrest. I’ll be back soon.”
Heading out, I open the app on my phone. Mom’s going to blow a fuse when she discovers what I’m about to do, but my girl deserves justice.
Let’s see… What the hell is Floyd up to right now? Reggie’s post pops up first—tagging Floyd. It’s a photo of them in a hot tub, enjoying some champagne and laughing. Candles surround them, and she captioned it:
The best way to end the evening. Nothing cleanses away the ugliness of the day like being with the one you love.
The ugliness of the day?They aren’t the ones with stitches. If I had the power to reach into photos, she and Floyd would have broken necks.
I tap the photo and run it through the AI. Geo-recognition AI isn’t as sophisticated as the facial programs, but it should be accurate enough.
Within seconds, it spits out a location. I smile grimly.Bingo.
The assholes are at a house in one of those secluded canyon communities with lots of trees and bushes. It’s one of the two Floyd inherited from his mother, and he uses it when he wants to impress a woman and get laid. The place isn’t swanky, but it has its charm with lots of privacy—there aren’t any houses in the area except for one a mile away—and a hot tub, adequate for two adults.
During my drive, the app spits out a detailed dossier on Reggie, who is clinging to Floyd, both literally and figuratively. She has nothing but debt to her name. Spending every penny that comes into your account tends to do that to you. For a has-been with no prospects, character or brains, Floyd is the best option. The second she can upgrade, she will, although it won’t be easy in a city where youth is the most prized currency.
I park my car far away enough that nobody will hear the engine noise, then pull out my tools from the hidden compartment in the trunk and head toward my targets. I position myself in the trees around the house, and take a look.
