Page 121 of The Billionaire's Virgin

Chapter Thirty-Five

Reed

Something about our last phone call had me on edge. I was sitting in my room trying to figure out what exactly that was. It was grating at the back of my head, but I just couldn’t seem to put my finger on it.

I got up from my bed and started pacing up and down my room. It was something Taylor had said to me that didn’t sit right. I just couldn’t think past my worry. The cops still had found nothing about where Sofia might have taken Jenna. Clearly, she wasn’t moving because no one had correctly identified her. There had been two false reports in the last fifteen minutes alone.

Both people who had called the cops had just picked random blonde women with young children and made the call. The cops had gotten involved only to find out that both women were the rightful mothers of the children they were with. Both times I had hoped, and both times my hopes had been shattered. I had told Jennifer to go back home, but she refused to leave me.

“I’m staying right here until Taylor comes back… or Jenna does,” she had told me in no uncertain terms.

I noticed that she picked between the two of them instead of just saying that they would both come back here. Was it really going to be between the two? Or was I just reading too much into it? Maybe she had just chosen the wrong words unconsciously.

“Damn it,” I said out loud, as my frustration got the better of me.

I turned to my wardrobe door and sent my fist flying into it. My knuckles bashed into the wood, and the pain that shot through my body was a welcome relief to the turmoil of my mind. I was panting heavily when Jennifer opened the door without warning and looked at me with concern.

“Reed?”

I looked at her wordlessly. “I’m just… redecorating,” I replied humorlessly.

Jennifer gave me a sympathetic glance as she looked at the dent in my wardrobe and summed up the situation. “Come with me,” she said.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To the kitchen,” she replied. “We’ll need to put ice on that fist.”

“I don’t need ice.”

“Nevertheless, let me ice your hand,” she said. “It’ll give me something to do. Come on.”

I followed her out to the kitchen because that was simply easier than arguing. I watched as she got some ice cubes from the freezer and wrapped them up in a thin kitchen towel. Then she started applying it to my hand, and the icy coldness did sooth the smarting that seemed to reverberate along my hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jennifer replied.

I was just imagining all the different ways my life could come crashing to a halt when Jennifer interrupted me.

“Reed, don’t go there.”

“Don’t go where?” I asked distractedly.

“You’re thinking dark thoughts… aren’t you?”

“Well—”

“Don’t bother denying it,” she said astutely. “I’ve known you too long to believe your lies.”

“I can’t help it,” I admitted. “Sometimes thinking positive only sets you up for a harder fall.”

“You owe it to Jenna to keep the faith,” Jennifer said. “All is not lost.”

“Then why do I feel like it is?” I demanded. “I’m her father… and I can’t do anything to make sure she’s okay. All my wealth and at the end of the day it means nothing.”

“This kind of thing really puts things into perspective, huh?” Jennifer asked.

“It does.”