The Red Roots Read Online Free Page A

Joe craved respect. He regarded himself a lady’s man, but the only ladies he attracted charged by the hour. The thought repulsed Isla, but Joe craved money more. With enough, power followed. Snitches loved kickbacks.
    “You’re underutilized Joe, and poorly paid.”
    He cocked his head to the side. “How much?”
    “Five.”
    “Hefty price for a little intel.”
    “No.” Isla tossed him the money. “One now, the rest when you set up a meeting with Vinny.”
    “I don’t know—”
    “Don’t lie. I’ll find out the truth.”
    “Aren’t you the fancy tech girl? Can’t you contact him?”
    Isla crossed her arms over her chest. “I could, but Martin is watching me. He’d never suspect you and me working together. Come on, Joe. Straddling territories and bosses. You’re an evil genius or an absolute moron. Either way, you’re my in.”
    Joe stared at the cash, stroking it with his thumb. Isla had a catch, but he was mesmerized by the money and didn’t even bother asking her for it. He was a moron but an agreeable moron. Isla escorted him to the front door.
    “I’ll be in touch soon.” Joe said but stopped. He looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just to let you know, your husband was spotted at The Ives Inn with a young woman, quite beautiful. Did I mention young?”
    Raided of sensibility she bared her teeth. “For how long?”
    “Two nights.”
    Fire swept over her skin, she shoved Joe out and secured the house. Her head throbbed. Isla stomped back into the bedroom and swiped her phone from atop of the dresser. She tapped her contact list and thumbed a text message to Reed.
    Isla: I know you’re back in town and not alone. We need to talk. Now.
    Stripping from her wrinkled clothes, Isla walked into her closet and pulled a soft blue tee from the hanger. Even if Reed didn’t respond, she was going to Ives. If he wasn’t there, she’d track him down. Isla yanked her favorite ankle jeans from the dresser drawer. Who did he think he was? Lecture her about cheating, and he’s the one screwing around. Joe was thrilled to share his little tidbit with her. She didn’t have time to deal with Reed acting like a pendulant child. She had to get Crosby’s dad out of jail. Isla had lives to ruin, and now her husband was at the top of her list.
    With a mouthful of bobby pins, Isla gathered her hair into a loose ponytail and slid the pins near the elastic band. Her phone vibrated.
    Reed: I can’t fulfill your request at this time.
    Isla: Are you really going to do this?
    Reed: I am.
    She growled. Her thumbs pounded the glass screen.
    Isla: I’m on my way to Ives. You ducking better be there.
    “Damnit.”
    Isla: Fucking. Fucking better be there.
    Isla fumed, she didn’t wait for his response. She stomped down the stairs. Martin seemed to believe Reed would love the breaking news along with his eggs and jelly toast. What was hidden beneath those words? Everything that was said within the families had another meaning.
    “If he’s behind this, so help me . . .” She jabbered and grabbed her leather backpack.

ISLA SHOOK HER fist as a burn beat through her fingers.
    The first boy she ever punched was in first grade. She’d climbed the steel jungle gym, even in her saddle shoes and pink skirt; she beat the boys to the top. It was school picture day. Isla’s curled pigtails bounced with each hoist. Though she had white tights on, Ben Wyatt peeked up her skirt and mocked her underpants. The seven year old perv, in his sailboat sweater, was photographed with a bruised, swollen right eye and cut lip.
    Why couldn’t she have fought back when Ronan was ripping her to shreds and stealing her innocence? She had no problem knocking her husband down with an upper cut and a kick to the groin. God, she was screwed up.
    When Reed swaggered toward her with bed head and a sleepy gaze, she lost control and attacked.
    The corners of her lips curled upward as she watched Reed squirm on the floor, payment for