Page 67 of Vegas Daddies

After looking me up and down, the other two return their eyes to Alice.

She’s no longer on the podium.

Instead, she stands across from me as Lifesaver tugs me away from the scene, waiting for an explanation I don’t have.

“Sick fucks,” I mutter under my breath, closing my fist tighter around the iron rod before it meets another man’s nose. Diving in to cause chaos probably wasn’t one of my wisest decisions, considering I just murdered a bunch of Russians a couple blocks away, but do these bastards really think they can stare at my girl and get away with it?

“Jesus Christ, Brander.” Lifesaver pushes me out the main doors, and I find myself outside on the main street, tourists in tuxedos and short skirts maneuvering around me.

“There’s better ways to save her than?—”

“Did you see the way they were fucking staring at her?”

“I know,” Match says. “But now you’ve got baldie onto us.”

Security appears from behind the double doors.

He’s definitely in the right job. Giants weigh less than this guy.

“Did you gentlemen even pay for entry?”

“No, sir.” Lifesaver straightens his back, stepping into his nice-guy act.

I don’t think it’s gonna work.

The double doors burst open again.

Alice materializes, an arm strapped across her breasts to hold them in place.

Even Godzilla can’t resist a look at them.

“Sorry, Pedro,” she says, breath catching up with her.

She knows his fucking name?

“These guys are with me.”

Pedro furls his brow. “All three of them?”

“Yeah?”

He’s too confused to even stare at her breasts now. “Why?”

“Um…” Alice searches the sky for an answer. “They’re my agents, you see.” She flashes a convincing smile that slightly untenses baldie’s jaw. “And they can get quite overprotective.”

“You should probably find yourself some new agents, then.”

“I know.” Alice side-glances us with abe quietglare. “I’m working on it.”

Pedro’s eyes scroll up and down her body. My eyes were too focused on her basically naked body to not see it before—all the dollar bills stashed in her G-string. The wind loosens one from the strap, and it flies into the air.

Baldie catches it, hands it back to her, and then turns to us. “I suggest you get yourselves out of here now, and don’t come back.” His eyes lower to the iron rod in my hand, the end still faintly glowing red. “You can hand me that too before someone else gets hurt.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Sorry. Can’t,” I say.

“Excuse me?”

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