Page 93 of Savage Daddies

“Thank you.”

The screen cuts to the news.

Tears blur my vision. I comb frustrated hands through my hair and dig my nails into my scalp to try and make the skin bleed. How dare he? They think he’s superman, but he’s the devil reincarnated. I remember how weightless I felt earlier with the bikers, and compare it to the terrible dread that plagues my body now. Things change awfully fast, and never for the better.

It was Felix, I know it. Bullwhip said it himself—Felix is a serial killer, and he wanted Paul out of the way to claim what he thinks is rightfully his. The news presenter said it herself—Paul was one of the most successful casino owners. There are over forty-five casinos on the Las Vegas strip alone, and Paul happens to be the one to kill himself? What about the other forty-four owners? The ones with less cash in the bank?

Footsteps crescendo, tightening the ball of nerves in my belly.

Not now.

The door opens, and Felix waltzes in.

“Nice broadcast,” I tell him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re an all-star in bullshitting.”

“Less of the cheek,” he scolds me. “Humor isn’t something you can afford to have right now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Felix inspects the TV remote on the floor, and squats to pick it back up. “Too pussy to throw it at my face?”

“You killed him.”

“Please.” He extends his hands. “Be my guest and tell the police.”

I tense my face. “This was all my fault, not the bikers’. You didn’t need to call the cops.”

“They broke into my property and assaulted you.”

“They didnot.”

“I’m not gonna stand here and argue with you all night, Zoe.”

Why? Because you’ve got more bullshit interviews to do?

“You broke the one thing our marriage is built on, sweetheart.”

“Our marriage is built on nothing but?—”

“Trust,” he interrupts me.

“Why do you care so much?” I ask.

“I will not repeat myself in front of a whore.”

“I am NOT a?—”

“My reputation. You have made me look a fool, and you continue to do so.”

I sink into the mattress. Whatever I say to him right now doesn’t matter. When Felix decides something, he laminates the thought like a document so it can’t be altered.

“Clearly, you think this is funny.” He stands in the doorway with a silhouetted body. “Let’s see how much you laugh when you’re paying Fiona’s grave a visit.”

He quietly exits after that, leaving me on the verge of a panic attack.

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