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“Or throw up,” Savage says. “You both wait for me.”
“Throw up?” Gabe asks, eyeing me. “What does he mean?”
“I’m fine. Lauren is bringing me medicine and it’s nothing you’ll catch.”
“That means pregnancy or food poisoning. Which is it?”
I don’t want to lie to my brother, but I have to protect this secret and—I have to protect this secret. “Food poisoning,” I say, nearly choking on the lie that I hate. “And I need to get into court.” I walk past the doors and Gabe is instantly by my side.
We speak to the guard and he ushers us to the front, near Reese, which is exactly where I need to be right now. I claim my seat and Gabe is instantly beside me and just in time. The jury is returning. In another two minutes, Reese walks into the courtroom and he seeks me out. The minute his eyes meet mine, I feel relief wash over him, and there is a transformation in him. He relaxes into his job and then, in turn, claims the courtroom. He’s magnetic, all eyes on him, and for now, I’m forgetting about Debbie. I’m ready for my husband to show us all what he’s got.
Reid
About sixty seconds after I disconnect with Reese, with the news that Debbie stalked my sister, for God knows how long, I’m on the phone with Royce Walker to coordinate my plan. I’ve just hung up when my assistant, Connie, who is attractive, forty, and single, the latter of which she blames on me, appears in my office doorway. “She’s throwing another fit. You have to get her out of here. Debbie isn’t about to do Dallas, she’s about to do our receptionist.”
“Do our receptionist?” I repeat dryly.
“As in Freddy Krueger-style, Reid. Wait her out once she’s behind bars or in a rubber room.”
“That’s exactly where she’s going.”
“To jail or a rubber room?”
“Jail,” I say, because I’ve been watching Debbie on our cameras and she’s putting on a show that I’m about to end. No one threatens my sister.
Chapter sixty-five
Reid
Iwalk into the conference room where Debbie is standing at the window. She turns and her lips part as if she expected some fifty-something man with a pot belly and a weak attitude. I shut the door and walk to the table, pressing my fingers to the desk. “What do you want?” I ask, sizing her up. She’s pretty, brunette, and all belly.
“What I deserve,” she says. “What my baby deserves. To be taken care of.”
“How many men have you fucked in the past nine months?”
“It’s his baby,” she snarls, leaning on the table to face off with me.
My lips twitch. She’s easily agitated. That works for me. “How many men have you fucked in the past two years?”
“Why? You want to join the list?” she challenges.
“There’s a list,” I say. “Interesting.”
“He’s the father!” she shouts at me, her cheeks flushing.
“How many times did you fuck Reese Summer?”
“Many.”
“When and where?” I ask.
“My place,” she says. “Often.”
“There are security cameras in your building. I checked. So you’ll be able to prove that. Make a call and get the videos.”
“I have no rights to that footage.”
“Offer the landlord a few perks and I’m sure you can work it out.”
