Page 40 of Savage Daddies

The video continues playing until I decide to rock-climb up the house.

“You should consider ninjutsu instead of motorcycling,” chuckles Zoe, face turning my way. “You have a talent for climbing up walls. Not very agile, though, are you?”

“I’m a rancher by trade.”

“That would explain the country accent.”

I close my mouth before I vomit out my entire life story.

You never know who could use it to your advantage.

“So, one”—Zoe holds up a finger—“you broke into my property, and two”—a second finger—“you lied about it. That’s not very honorable of you.” She drops the hand. “Are you gonna tell me what you were doing there?”

“We were worried about you and…also worried about Felix.”

Zoe frowns. “Felix? Why?”

“Paul, the owner of this casino, was caught handing over money to Felix.”

“Oh,” says Zoe. “I have no idea what they have going on.”

“Weareconcerned about you, though,” says Poet.

Zoe straightens her lips. She’s a tough cookie with an expertise in body language. Her eyes remain consistent with mine even though they want to drop and look elsewhere. I see the unsteadiness in them. The flash of anxiety.

“Felix keeps his cards very close to his chest. I have no idea what he’s doing with Paul.”

“Bullwhip deactivated the cameras,” I say. “How did you know we broke in?”

“Felix has a camera installed into the facial recognition screen. Lucky for you, I deleted the footage before he saw it, so you’re welcome. Your asses are saved.”

“Thank you.” Bullwhip bows his head like he’s standing before a queen.

Head-to-toe in luxury and with the most jaw-dropping face, that’s exactly what she is.

Zoe softens her voice to a whisper. “You need to be careful. Felix doesn’t take intruders lightly.”

Footsteps crescendo behind her, and she whips around and pins back her shoulders at the approach of a strange suited man that Bullwhip notes in a whisper as being Warren Warrington—her father.

“What are you doing down here?” A pair of green eyes turn to us.That’swhere she gets them from, although Zoe’s are much kinder and more welcoming. Her father looks like he’s about to spit poison at us. “And who might you two be?’

“Nobody, sir.” God, it’s been a while since I addressed someone so formally.

“Oiled up in leather at a casino?”

I wish Bullwhip could conceal his emotions better. He always displays them on his face, and right now, hatred seems to be the most prominent feeling. “We were just stopping by to greet a friend.”

“You know them, Zoe?”

“Briefly,” she lies. “We have mutual friends.”

“Hmph,” says the man. He death-glares us again, and his eyes narrow so much that they look more like slits in his face.

“It’s fine, Father. Leave it.”

But Bullwhip doesn’t. “We were just asking Zoe if she knew anything about Felix.”

“What do you want to know about Felix?”

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