Page 28

Jolting, I glance around the car and grimace at the mess. Jesus, this is appalling. Discarded rubbish is strewn on the floor of the car, along with a bunch of kid clothes and, thankfully, a bunch of balled-up napkins.

This thing is a fucking pig sty.

But for once in my life, I’m grateful for the mess I’m surrounded by.

After wiping the cum from me, I stuff the napkins in one of the used McDonald’s bags and try not to think about how long it’s been there. Then I step out of the SUV and shake away the need to scrub my skin clean, and go in search of Gia.

Pushing my way through the crowd of supporters, I realize there are multiple games happening in this godforsaken place. A light giggle has me turning my attention to my right, the sweet sound something I’d recognize anywhere—my woman.

As if in slow motion, she throws her head back on a laugh, and her dark hair blows in the breeze as I take in her small stature beside Tyson.

Jealousy zips up my spine and slams into me like a freight train at his casual clothes and the way his T-shirt exposes his muscled biceps. I swear the moron is tensing them for added effect.

“Excuse me, sir?” My eyes travel over to a young woman looking up at me nervously. “Do you work here?”

She appears more like a teenager than an adult, and the way she wrings her hands in front of her shows me her worry. “Are you one of the investors?”

My brow furrows.

“In the baby changing room, the table is broken.” She points toward one of the dilapidated buildings, and I grimace. A baby changing room, in there? Good God.

A noise beside her has me noticing the stroller she has and the infant fidgeting beneath the blanket.

Jesus, she’s not the mother, is she? My eyes search her face, but I’m snapped out of my stare when Gia approaches.

“Kimmy, I sent one of the volunteers over. He’s going to get it fixed.” Relief spreads over the young girl’s face.

“Thank you, Gia.” She nods in my direction and maneuvers the stroller around the crowd.

“Is that her baby?” I ask as the girl’s small figure disappears into the crowd.

“It is,” Gia replies, and I search her face for a sign of something more, and when she places her hand on her bump, I itch to join it. “Not every pregnancy is planned, Reed.” Her eyes hold mine, and I want to tell her that ours is, that from the moment I sunk inside her and decided to fuck her bare, I willed this to happen, even if I hadn’t fully realized it at the time.

And now I finally have something to live for, something I never knew I wanted.

“She just looks a little young,” I mumble through the haze surrounding us.

“She is. Sixteen, to be precise.” My mouth falls open, but Gia follows up with, “She couldn’t help the situation she was brought up in. Nor can she help that the people who were meant to care for her were nothing more than monsters.” Her words sit heavily in my stomach, and my mind whirls over what she’s telling me. Every cell in my body tightens with a need for retribution for the young girl as anger for her strikes me hard.

“I got the bastard sent down, and as you know, nobody likes child abusers in prison.” A knowing smirk plays on Gia’s lips, and pride fills my chest.

She helped save that girl; she provided a service I chose not to when choosing the course of my legal career, then I become even more in awe of the woman than I ever thought possible.

Her eyes dart to the side as if my stare brings her discomfort, and I hate that, so when they finally land on me again, I step toward her, brushing the wayward strands of hair from her face. She stares at me as if uncertain by my action, and truth be told, she should be. I’ve never felt the need for physical affection in my entire life before now. “Bryce’s game is almost finished. Would you like to join us?” she whispers.

Looking out over the rugged ground, I wince. How the hell they play soccer on this terrain is beyond me. Instead of voicing my concerns, I smile back at her. “Sure.”

* * *

Bryce is small compared to the other kids. So fucking small, I struggled to see who Gia was cheering on, but I give him his dues, he can run. He’s like fucking lightning, and the only way the other kids can stop him is if they use their size to shoulder barge him to the ground.

Little fuckers.

One asshole, in particular, appears to have it out for him, and already, I hate the little shit.

When I asked Gia his name, she informed me it’s Lenton O’Sullivan, who’s the coach’s kid. No shock there.

Well, Lenton O’Sullivan and his father need to watch the hell out. I refuse to stand for anyone taking advantage of my family, and that’s what Bryce is. As much as I dislike children, Gia has one, so I guess I do too.