Page 68 of Vegas Daddies

“Why should I listen to you now? We’re outside the premises.”

“Yeah,” baldie says. “The premises I chased you out of. As security, my interests lie in public safety, so if you’re not gonna hand over that thing, you can take it up with the cops.”

Panic surfaces on Lifesaver’s face. He’s the one most in the shitter if the cops find out what we’ve done, after all.

“I don’t think carrying an iron rod is?—”

“Here.” Alice slaps—is thatthree hundred dollars?—in Pedro’s palm. She reshuffles her G-string and squints her eyes up at him. “Now, are we done?”

“Go on. Get out of here.”

Alice swings her arm around Match.

Pain explodes in his face.

“Oh my god.” Concern stretches across her face as we make a dash for it. She unlinks his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Hope so.”

“How the hell did you guys find me, anyway?”

Lifesaver and I shoot one another a look. Killing Russians and guilting the leftover into telling us Alice’s location isn’t exactly the most romantic gesture.

But it’s sure more romantic than the news Lifey received earlier. That her father went to the Bratva and got her mom killed.

I couldn’t forgive that.

Nobody could forgive that.

Although I suppose his fuckup makes what we’ve done to his daughter less wrong, because as luck would have it, Peter Perfectisn’tso perfect anymore.

Car horns beep as we run down the street, Alice hidden between us. Anger resurfaces again. Makes me wanna throw myself into their windshields so I can wrap my hands around the drivers’ filthy necks and throttle them. Next comes a wolf whistle. I snap my head around and see four men hanging out of a Porsche gawping at her ass.

Lifesaver tugs my jacket before I even have chance to dive in and strangle number two of the night.

“They’re disrespecting our girl and driving off unscathed. Bastards shouldn’t get away with shit like this. If this happened out on the street when I was eighteen, hell would have gained another devil by now, and the place would be painted red.”

“The place alreadyis,” hisses Lifesaver. “Look.” He steers me away from the line of people. “As satisfying as it is to draw blood from a person’s body, we’re already in enough shit as it is with baldie threatening to call the cops. We’re easy to identify. People tend to accessorize their outfits with bags, not iron rods. One thing leads to another, and then they’re at Rocking Rubiesbringing all three of us in for questioning.”

He has a good point.

If we’re sentenced to life behind bars, who will protect Alice?

Peter will try, I’m sure, but he’ll be a pile of rubble on the floor if the Bratva come and kidnap Alice again.

The blaring horns continuing, I discard my jacket and wrap it around Alice’s chest. Lifesaver does the same, tying his around her waist.

“What’s that smell?” she asks, hopping onto the back of my bike.

Rotting human blood.

“It smells like three-week-old unrefrigerated fish.”

“Come on, darling,” I say, urging her to swing the other leg around. “Time is precious.”

“Wherewereyou guys before the strip club? Working a shift in the salmon factory?”

Where the fuck is Vegas sourcing salmon from?

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