Agent Reid Novels & Stories

Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe my own son could be that sloppy. Maybe I was clinging to the last shred of illusion that he still had some semblance of spine. I picked up the phone again and scrolled to a contact labeled simply “R.” Reyes Keller. Ex-FBI special agent, forced out during one of those quiet purges that happen when someone asks too many inconvenient questions. For the last eight years he’d worked exclusively for me, discreet, ruthless, and worth every exorbitant dollar I paid him. He answered on the first ring, voice gravelly from too many cigarettes and not enough sleep.

Sitting at the bar with a whiskey, looking casual, but his eyes tracked the room like he was on duty. Because he was. The boss's muscle. Shit, that sounded like some crime or mafia movie. The godfather. "Oh my God," she said out loud. "What?" Paige asked. "Reid." Willow typed furiously. Willow: OMG Reid sending your watchdog to spy on me. Well I hope he tells you I'm going to be drinking the drink I ordered and wanted. The response came fast. Reid: Willow. It was a warning. She could hear it even in text form.

San Diego had me feeling differently. It was like I became Alex Gray the moment I drove into the city. My personality changed over the following two weeks as I followed Jordan Reed. He was the Vice President of The Reapers and second in command. I knew that if I could get close to him, I was as good as in. He had a set routine and after two weeks, I knew it by heart. He liked to frequent the bar on Broadway in East Village. It also happened to be the whole club’s favorite spot.

“We find someone else. We find one of these six and we make it worth their while to agree to this.” Reid picked his coffee back up but he didn’t drink it. He just held it like he was considering whether to argue or let the subject drop. After a long moment, he set it down again and returned to his work. By 6am, my phone buzzed and it was a text from a very old friend. Theodore Mortaine. Theo: She’s going to need someone. Make sure it’s you. I raised a brow at the message and frowned deeper when the pinch in my chest released a little. What the fuck is going oj?

I was still confused. " So how does Mr Reid fit into this?" I asked Chance who already looked exhausted. " Mr Reid used to be a feared drug dealer in the day, but with time he quit but still has influence over some crooks in the business" " So why go into a business deal with Reid? Why not just ask him for help? They do seem particularly fond of him" my questions are only to calm down my scared mind.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to stop pretending this is only about Friday’s lineup.” The line was so direct it knocked the breath sideways in Miles’s chest. He could still smell turf on himself, rubber, sweat. Reid’s expression was controlled, but his eyes were not mild. This was the man who ordered suicides until somebody vomited and then told them to hydrate and reset. That same absolute certainty was now aimed at something else entirely. Miles’s voice came out rougher. “And if I don’t tell you to open it?” Reid’s answer was simple. “Then get up, lock your mouth when I tell you, and take what you’ve been circling around for weeks.”

I peer past Brock into what is evidently Reid’s office, spotting him seated in a large leather chair behind a sturdy wood desk covered in paperwork. “Perfect timing, I just finished up the list of placements for the Denver wolves,” Reid says, grabbing a piece of paper off of his desk and pushing his chair back, rising to stand. He looks to me, grinning. “You excited to see some of your pack?” I nod enthusiastically. “Can’t wait! Thanks for getting everything organized.” Reid starts toward us, rounding his desk. He holds out the paper to me as he approaches. “Wanna double check my count for your people?”

Another wave of Ace's men come barreling out of the tree line at them. The biggest wave yet as hundreds come flooding out. Reid staggers forward as he reaches deep into his core. It takes him a moment in his weekend state. He struggles to find it even though it's there, but he's so weak and hurt. He catches himself as he falls and pulls himself to his knees and digs deeper again. He finds it and grabs onto it, pulling it as fast as he can as it rips through his body and out his hands.

“You’ve weakened him. You’ve cost him allies, control. Do you think that kind of love is sustainable when the real wolves start circling? Victor was nothing compared to what’s coming.” Elena didn’t look away. “Then let them come. I’ll stand beside him.” The door behind them opened, and Reid stepped in, tension riding his shoulders. He froze when he saw Ada. “Christ,” he muttered. “Was this a family reunion and no one told me?” Ada gave him a thin, dismissive nod. “Mr. Shaw.” “Ms. Blackwood.” Reid eyed her carefully. “You come bearing condolences or threats?” Ada smiled faintly. “Sometimes, they’re the same thing.”

The cold night air hit me instantly, biting sharply through the thin fabric of my silk blouse, but the shock of the chill was grounding. I dialed the number. The line rang once. Twice. Three times. I was just about to hang up, a wave of regret washing over me, when a cautious, professional voice answered the call. "Hello?" "Natalie Reyes?" My voice came out steadier than I felt, anchoring itself in my trained corporate cadence. "My name is Catriona Agreste. I… I found your personal information through a ledger connected to Shawn Reid." A long, heavy silence stretched across the digital line. The ambient noise of Chicago traffic was faintly audible in her background. When she finally spoke ag