Page 13 of Savage Daddies

Bullwhip reaches out to grab the thing, and then squashes it in his palm.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Wrangler folds his arms over his chest.

I know what he’s thinking—Venom Vultures pride ourselves on killing things only when necessary, and that goes for animals too, but I’d quite frankly murder the earth to be at this woman’s side. The long, undulating waves of red hair frame her heart-shaped face so beautifully…

“Zoe?” My heart stops. I haven’t seen her in years, but it has to be her. Most red-haired people have fair eyebrows, but Zoe’s are dark, even years later. She looks nothing like I remember, but at least she kept the freckles. A light peppering of them dusts around her nose—my favorite feature of hers.

But fuck, she’s changed.

“Oh my god.” She squints in the sun, raising a hand to shield her eyes which gives me an even clearer view of them. “No way.” Her eyes drop to my body and she gives me a once-over. A very long one. “Nice…outfit…?”

“Thanks,” I stutter, tongue-tied because I’m still taking inhers.

She’s changed.

A lot.

She still wears her hair long, but it used to be longer—like, down to her ass. The ass I regret accidently glimpsing one time when she attended class right after gym, still wearing booty shorts.

But three-inch Nike Pros don’t seem to be a staple of hers anymore. She wears a beige pantsuit that covers every inch of her body. A corset tank top buttons up all the way to her neck, and the pants sit high on her waist, covering her entire stomach, belly button included—she always used to show that off in school to flaunt the piercing. On her feet, when she stands, are heels that suggest she wasn’t planning on hiking through the desert today.

The polished, tailored look would say never.

Based on her appearance, I’d say she lives an indoor lifestyle. No wrinkles crease her face, even as she grits her teeth to examine the now-deformed spider.

She straightens up after the attack. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Bullwhip dusts off his hands and looks at her. Their height difference is crazy. She looks tiny, like he could scoop her up and hold her one-handed. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Her eyes roll to the sky instead of answering the question.

“Miss?” Wrangler circles around her, hand on his hip like he’s drinking her in.

We don’t see modest females often.

It pleases me that Zoe covers up now. Strutting around school in micro tops and tight denim jeans that revealed half her ass made it clear she didn’t have much self-respect. Then again, her father was always too busy to uniform-check her before leaving the house every morning. She lived in a big one, according to the students seated a few rows back from her who often liked to discuss her latest conquests. Matt, I think was his name, was boy number…I can’t even remember. He told one of them that her father was the owner of Lucky Boy Casino. That’s when I connected the dots. What casino owner has time to spend questioning their daughter’s outfit choices?

“Mr. Reeves?”

This turns Wrangler and Bullwhip toward me. Bully even cocks an eyebrow—rare for him. He normally uses his face for staring. Not reacting.

“I was sad to see you leave,” she says. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” I clear my throat to erase the edge in my voice. “What are you doing with yourself now?”

This freezes her on the spot. Blood drains from her face and she averts her eyes. “Um.” Sounds like I’m not the only one with an edge to my voice. “I’m doing well.”

I narrow my eyes to the pantsuit buttons, each one engraved with two interlinked Cs—the Chanel logo.

She’s not doing well.

She’s doingreallywell.

Deluxe clothes were never her style back in high school. Every time I had her class, she’d swan in wearing graphic tees and denim shorts bought from thrift stores because apparently they had more character—or at least, that’s what I heard her say to Teagan.

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on her conversations. Zoe was just an interesting student.

“New doesn’t mean better.”

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