Page 107 of Vegas Daddies

“Look.” Lifesaver stands up. God, he looks bad. Almost as beat as Levi. His tanned complexion is no more. It’s like somebody has coated him in white paint and glossed a layer of grease over the top. Sweat beads down his brow. Maybe he caught the flu at the hospital.

Or maybe the guilt has caught up.

“This isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You mean it’s not just sex?” Levi asks.

Fucking fantastic.

Peter tightens his fists.

I flash the boy daggers. The father might be off-limits, but that doesn’t mean the ex is exempt too. He might’ve performed well the other night in the parking lot issuing Match a black eye, but for a Bratva wannabe who’s spent most of his days living in virtual reality through a computer screen, I doubt he knows much about combat.

I could finish the boy in seconds.

“I love her,” Lifesaver says. “We all do.”

“Love?” scoffs Peter. “You guys don’t know the first thing about love.”

“Like you’re such an expert,” Match says. “Lying to your daughter for God knows h?—”

“Alright!” Lifesaver says.

Man, he has lost the fucking plot. Normally it’s him wigglinghiseyebrows and tellingmeto pack it in.

“Let’s just put our grievances aside for now,” continues Lifesaver, “and come up with some sort of plan to save the two of you.”

Peter tenses his jaw. “Who said anything about me needing your assistance?”

“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious, man,” laughs Match.

He needs to watch his language. Agitating Peter any more won’t bode well for any of us here. He glares at Match with those wicked eyes again, then me even though I haven’t even opened my mouth. Fair play to the man. His talents don’t just lie in being able to please an entire city. He’s good at scaring people, and right now, I’m fucking terrified. Two black eyes and a very pissed off father was the consequence last time when I was caught with another man’s daughter, and although I’m off the hook a little bit in this instance—consequences are more dire for Lifesaver—the anxious feelings resurface because once again, I’m reminded I’m not good enough for somebody’s daughter.

Peter doesn’t tell me that, but I see it in his eyes. A spot of confusion hits them every time he glances at me. With Match and Lifesaver he gets it—they’re good-looking men with straightsmiles and good hair. Me? I have mismatched eyes and a face that looks part rhino.

So I should prove myself.

Prove that I’m worthy.

“I don’t need anybody’s assistance,” Peter says.

Get over the enlarged ego already.

“Look, man,” Match says. “We’re gonna have to reach some kind of agreement here if you want Alice’s life saved, and your own. These people are not gonna stop until you stop the campaign.”

“No.” Peter shakes his head. “They need to be gone.”

“So, there’s only one way to get what you want,” Lifesaver says.

Alice catches Peter’s eye and they share this father-daughter look that seems to reason him out for the time being. The jaw untenses and he eye-rolls upon turning back to face Lifesaver.

“Alright,” he says, “but as soon as this is all over, consider yourselves dead to me. All three of you. Law, you especially.”

A curt nod from Lifesaver seals the deal.

He’s holding it together, I know it.

Peter isn’t just some friend that he stumbled upon one day while grocery shopping. He’s the friend that saved him from having the most dreadful junior high experience, it sounds like. Lifesaver was the biology nerd who probably played with model first aid kits during recess instead of joining in with tag, and Peter was the popular dude who got everyone to like him, since he’s apparently always been good with people.

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