Page 53 of Vegas Daddies

Brander extends his hands. “There’s your answer.”

“What are you trying to say? You think my father was involved with the Bratva before? You think my mom’s death had something to do with?—?”

“Let’s not get carried away here.” Match raises his hand. “Listen, Alice. Your father is the mayor of Vegas, which means he knows better than to run his mouth about Russian degenerates to the cops. If he wants his life saved, we are his only hope.”

Way to toot your own horn.

I wander to the window and observe the city. Lights twinkle, and planes wink, descending one behind the other in a line. The city looks peaceful when you gain some distance from it. Looks innocent almost, with the full moon and silver stars glittering overhead.

Vegas is a confusing place. The enlarged billboards displaying strippers and advertisements and all things glitz and gold make it this showy, in-your-face place. But it’s not. Most of what occurs within the city goes unnoticed. The gangs. The deaths. The deception. The place is nothing but a facade. One that I, for many years, innocently bought into, right up until Mom’s brutal death. Humans don’t always look out for one another. They kill because it feels good to draw the air from another person’s lungs.

The planes disappear behind high-rise buildings, but others materialize seconds later. How does it make Lifesaver, Match,and Brander feel when they take somebody’s life? Good? Guilty? They’re different from the Bratva, and kill only if there’s reason to.

What if the Bratva are the same?

Brander’s cutthroat face would suggest he’s been hardened to reality. What sort of life has he lived up until now? Did he even have a childhood? A stage where he floated through the world ignorant to the truths he now can’t ignore?

Anxiety twists my stomach, and a wave of sickness ebbs through me. These guys don’t live in fairyland, Brander in particular, so could his suspicions about Mom’s murder be true? Was there an ulterior motive? A reason behind Mom’s death all those years ago?

“Alice? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say.

To be honest, it’s more of a snap, but I can’t help the sharpness of my voice. I’m too busy trying to slow the rapid beating of my heart. Cool myself down.

No. It’s impossible. Murders happen all the time. Not everybody kills with intent like the Venom Vultures. Knifing someone in the heart is an addiction, the same as smoking and vaping and popping pills.

I turn away from the window. Dig my back into the ledge. Dwelling on the past won’t undo the Bratva’s current plans to murder Daddy.

“Do you think my father made a mistake broadcasting his Bratva elimination plans?”

The side-eyes tell me all I need to know—that my father fucked up.

“Look, darling,” Brander says, jumping in just as Match opens his mouth. “All we’re saying is that we need to work as a team here. Me, you, Match, and Lifesaver. Your father will find out about us one day, and I can bet my hot iron rod it will end in tears and three restraining orders. Do you want that? For us to never see one another again?”

The thought jerks my heart more than I’d like to admit. Levi, the fucker, never made me feel like this. My heart always beat at a steady tempo, even during sex, which occurred twice a week max because I was never in the mood.

Previous sexual experiences aside, no man has ever made me feel like this before. Never seeing these guys again sounds as severe as blood circulation being cut off. Prison is what it sounds like. Hell. Already, I feel my temperature start to cool. The blue color of my scrubs hung over the chair starts to pale into something that looks more like gray.

But telling Daddy the Bratva are after him will spiral him. Maybe he’ll abort the campaign and never get justice for Mom, orworse—dive in headfirst without an action plan and end up in a bloodbath.

“I’ll talk to him,” I say with a sigh.

The unsettled expression on Brander’s face doesn’t ease.

“If,” I continue, “he ever finds out.”

“Good idea,” Lifesaver says. He smiles. “Dropping this information on his shoulders will cause more damage, and slim his chances of survival even more. We keep our mouths shut.”He glances at Match and Brander. “All of us. In the meantime—” His eyes return to me. “You need to get some rest, sweetheart. It’s late. I need to get back on shift, and you two need to get yourself back home. Sleep up. Tomorrow afternoon we regroup and start planning our next steps. Something tells me it’s gonna involve blood.” Lifesaver walks to the door and unlocks it. “A lot of it.”

I jumpinto my car and pull out of the parking lot right away. Thankfully the ER is just one level, and displays a clear view of the surrounding area thanks to the brightly shining sun.

Slipping on my sunnies, I merge onto the road and slam on the gas. My eyes were closed for two hours last night, and for the first hour, all that looped behind them was the image of the blacked-out attacker throwing himself at my car. The choke hold had some force behind it. Kicking him in the balls was a lucky escape. I’m just thankful I managed to locate them in time. Wouldn’t surprise me if they were two marble-sized spheres drooping down to his knees. Fucking bastard.

I’m just thankful three hunky bikers crossed my path the night of my bachelorette. If they hadn’t, there’s no telling how rapid my heart would be beating right now.

Match offered to keep an eye on me tonight after I finish work, to ensure no attackers try jumping on me again, and Lifesaver suggested I equip myself with a sedative so I can jab it into them if anybody tries again, so the plan tonight on shift is to somehow smuggle syringes into my bag when my coworkers turn their backs.

Roadwork ahead,reads a sign on the roadside. A right-facing arrow directs me off the highway onto another. Twenty more fucking minutes before I arrive home. Great.

---