Page 53 of Savage Daddies

I’m surprised she even touches the door. It’s full of splinters.

I know what she’s thinking—outlaws earn fortunes, so why does Wrangler live on the line of deprivation?

“I send most of my earnings to my parents,” he tells her.

“Oh?” Zoe raises her brow. “That’s sweet of you.”

“Not really.” Wrangler waltzes into the joined living room and kitchen. “They provided me with the best childhood a kid could’ve asked for, out on the ranch everyday with the sun on my back. I was nineteen when a hurricane blew through the desert and took the ranch with it. That’s when I moved to Vegas, and started sending them money.” He leans against the countertop. “It’s the least I can do. They gave me the best childhood, so in exchange, I give them the best retirement.”

Tension softens in Zoe’s eyes.

“Besides. I have the blazing sun. A view of the desert from my kitchen.” He pats the wall like it’s an old friend, and Zoe winces like the thing’s about to topple down. Wrangler smiles. “What else could a man need?”

Answer: his dead girlfriend to pull a Jesus Christ and miraculously rise from the ashes.

But resurrection doesn’t exist, and that’s because human beings are meant to move on from the past.

“Alright.” Wrangler claps his hands as if to diffuse the tension. “Tea?” He sets a kettle on the stove to boil water.

“Zoe? Are you OK here?” asks Poet.

She nods her head. “For now. Felix is out of the house tonight. I guess that’s the positive of being married to a billionaire businessman—he’s always busy.”

I kick my booted feet up onto the couch and relax. A small, boxed TV sits on a coffee table on the other side of the room, so I reach for the remote and switch the thing on.

Static covers the screen, and there’s only a limited selection of channels.

“Christ, Wrangler, how long have you had this blasted thing?—?”

Felix’s face on TV cuts me off. He stands beside a smiling interviewer. The description reads:Felix Fernando details the inspiration for his latest charitable venture.

Even copywriters adore him.

“…so yeah.” Another smile. “I know how it feels to grow up as an outcast. That’s what motivated me to set up this organization. Orphaned children deserve to be educated in safe spaces, around peers who understand their struggles. I want to make a difference and create schools that are specifically designed for orphaned children. Teachers too, at this school, must also know what it’s like to grow up without their biological family. Sometimes, the adults understand evenlessthan the kids.” He chuckles.

Wrangler fakes a yawn.

That makes Poet chuckle.

Zoe just sits there and stares blankly. When the interview finishes, she turns to us. “Tell me why you kept it a secret.”

“We thought it would be best, princess.” Wrangler takes the kettle from the stove and pours tea. “We didn’t want to complicate things for you.”

“That’s kind of you, but my life is already very fucking complicated if you haven’t already noticed.” She sinks into the couch and brings her legs up to her chest.

“Does it?” asks Poet. “Complicate things for you?”

Zoe stares at the TV and spits out, “No. Why should it?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“It was just sex.” She turns away from the screen. “But I would’ve appreciated you telling me the truth.”

“Sorry,” says Poet.

Wrangler walks a hot lemon tea over to her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she mutters.

---