Page 33 of Shotgun Daddy
“Trouble?” Owen enquired, a knowing look in his eyes.
“He’s gone,” Faustino said, his voice tight. “Reece left the hotel for some damn audition. I told the boy to stay, and the damned Little didn’t listen.”
“Shit,” Owen muttered. “The boy’s got guts, I’ll give him that. What’s the play? Hit the house or haul ass back to Reece?”
Faustino’s mind raced, torn between the two fires blazing in front of him. The house loomed, a nest of vipers he could crush right now, end the threat at its root. But Reece, his darling Little, was out there, defenseless, potentially walking into a trap.
Faustino pictured Reece skipping into an audition, oblivious to the shadows that might be waiting. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, the gun heavy on his thigh.
This was Justin all over again. An innocent Little drawn into a deadly world that he wasn’t made for. Faustino knew he had no other option.
“Fuck it,” Faustino growled, starting the engine with a roar. “Reece comes first. We’re heading back. I’ll deal with these bastards later.”
Owen nodded, no judgment in his eyes.
Faustino peeled out, tires screeching as he gunned it toward the city, the suburban street shrinking in the rearview.
Anger simmered inside Faustino. For sure, Reece would get a talking to and a whole lot more for disobeying. But it was fear that drove Faustino now, a primal need to get to his boy, shield him, and keep him from harm.
The traitors could wait. Reece couldn’t.
Faustino just hoped he wasn’t too late…
Chapter 15
Reece
The journey from the hotel suite to the audition was about as straightforward as Reece could have hoped. He called an Uber from directly outside the hotel and was over at the location in less than ten minutes.
As much as he was aware that he was going against his Daddy’s commands, Reece felt like this was such a low risk in and out situation that there wasn’t any room for anything to go wrong. Even the threat of Timo Taylor showing up like a bad smell wasn’t an issue as Reece’s agent had assured him that he had absolutely no connection to this project.
So far, so good.
The audition space was a small, minimalist room tucked into a nondescript office building on the edge of the block, a far cry from the glitzy studios Reece had dreamed of as a kid – but that was okay.
“Here we go,” Reece said, steeling himself and drawing on some of the mental toughness that Mr. Adler had spoken about in his own inimitable way.
As Reece stepped inside, his heart was pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. The walls were bare white, blank except for a single framed poster of an old noir film, a gritty classic he’d watched a dozen times.
A folding table sat in the center, flanked by two metal chairs, and a single window let in a sliver of afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the beam. The floor was scuffed hardwood, creaking under his sneakers, and the air carried a faint musty scent, like old books and stale coffee. A camera on a tripod stood in the corner, its red light blinking, and behind the table sat a man. He was mid-thirties, sharp-eyed, with a warm smile that instantly put Reece at ease.
“Reece, I assume. I’m Steven,” the man said, standing to shake Reece’s hand. Steven’s grip was firm, his dark hair slicked back, and he wore a simple black blazer over a t-shirt. Casual but commanding. “So as you know, I’m director and producer for this pilot. I’ve heard good things about you.”
Reece nodded, his nerves melting under Steven’s friendly tone.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Reece said, confident but nottooconfident. “Thanks for having me. I know it’s kind of a last-minute thing.”
“Best opportunities often are,” Steven said with a wink, settling back into his chair and flipping open a script. “Let’s dive in. Give me raw, messy characters over shiny perfection any day. You?”
“Same!” Reece blurted, his face lighting up. “I grew up on stuff like The Wire and Chinatown. I probably watched them way before I was old enough. But, you know, I turned out okay…”
Steven grinned.
“You’ve got good taste,” Steven said, smiling. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got. Page five, the confrontation scene. Whenever you’re ready.”
Reece took a deep breath, clutching the script he’d memorized in the Uber, and slipped into character… a young detective facing down a corrupt cop, his voice trembling with fury and resolve.
The room faded as Reece sank into the role, the words flowing like they’d been his all along. Steven watched, leaning forward, his pen tapping silently against the table, and when Reece finished, the silence in the room was deafening.
