Page 103 of Savage Daddies

“Bully—”

“I’m not joining forces with him, okay. Chill out.”

But he was debating it. Poet and I share another look. Was it a trick, or was he being serious? Everybody and their dog knows that Bully is best behind a gun. He kills without a second thought, and if Felix has been watching him—likely, since he has eyes everywhere—maybe hedoessee something valuable.

The thought definitely crossed his mind. I know Bully. Have for many years. Before the masquerade party that knitted us all together, he was a lone wolf and preferred to bounty-hunt alone. Sometimes, he misunderstands himself. Each time you act violent—in Bullwhip’s case, shoot somebody down or enforce a whip—a little piece of you dies with the victim. It explains Bully’s stoic exterior.

Explains why he sees himself as the bad guy.

But much worse guys exist out there.

Bully and Felix are still worlds apart. He still cares, and in Zoe’s presence, smiles—something he never does. If Bully was truly a bad person, he wouldn’t be snaking his arm around Zoe now and sheltering her from the world.

“So, he killed Paul?” I ask.

“Yes,” says Bully.

“And the serial killer shit?” asks Poet.

“He worked as a contractual assassin.That’show he kick-started his business. Hard work has squat to do with it.”

Zoe stares into Bully’s eyes. “You’re serious?”

“I wish I wasn’t, darling.”

Tears glass her eyes again. “God, guys, you gotta help me save Fiona.”

I take a seat. “Where would she go?”

“He’s gonna pull the same move he did with Paul,” Bullwhip says. “Stage a suicide.”

I practically hear all of the air leaving Zoe’s body. “He’s gonnawhat? How can you be so sure?”

“Think about it,” Poet says. “She has a history of depression, right? She tried to kill herself with a kitchen knife? It’s the perfect alibi.”

“Has Felix got her?” I ask.

“I called her last night,” says Zoe, “when Felix was home. That was when the line died and Father took over.”

“You think he did something with her?” asks Poet.

Not exactly the most pleasant thing Zoe wants to be thinking about right now—her father attempting to murder his own daughter. Does Warren have that in him, though?

“Father was at the casino today, so maybe….?” Zoe trails away.

“You told her to run?” Bullwhip asks her.

Zoe nods, running a finger over her pursed lips. Then realization crosses her face. “At the end of Green Valley South, there’s an opening that leads out into the desert. Before I moved in with Felix, she used to go there to clear her head for a while. If she ran away, that’s where she’d go.”

“Brilliant,” says Poet. He slaps her ass to motivate her forward. “Then what are we still doing here? It’s go time.”

We funnel out of the building and hop on the bikes. Zoe swings a leg over the back of Bullwhip’s Harley and crosses her arms over his chest as the bike starts up.

Nerves crunch my stomach as we get ready to depart.

I cross everything and hope that we’ll find Fiona.

But we’re dealing with a serial killer here—hope is dangling by a very thin thread.

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