Page 70 of Silver Fox Daddies

“I had sex with the bikers, and I just found out that one of them killed my mom.”

She concentrates on my face, relaying the sentence to herself. When it hits, her eyes widen, voice exploding. “He did what? What the fuck? You had s?—?”

“With them.”

“Them?”

“I gotta get to class. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Melissa, this is too urgent to be spoken about later.” Her eyes pop out of her head. “I can’t believe that you?—”

“Later.” I bring her into a hug. “When the alcohol is out of your system.” I go to walk away but turn around at the top of the stairwell. “By the way, thanks for telling my dad about me getting drunk last week.”

“What?! I didn’t.”

I stop dead in my tracks, feet glued to the floor. “What?”

“In what world would I cross tracks with your father?” She pinches her eyes. “I’m nocturnal, remember?”

Dread fills my gut. How did he find out about me drinking if Natasha didn’t tell him?

I turn stiffly back to the stairwell, carefully taking my first step. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” Natasha flashes me a tired smile. “Later. We have lots to catch up on.”

I exit the building, not remembering descending four flights of stairs.

How could my father know about the frat party? Was he there, secretly spying?

He lied to me.

Outside, the dry air quickly heats my skin. I manage about three steps before I spring back again, startled when I find Gigi outside of my apartment block.

I press my back against the wall, waiting for her to pass by, but my mouth blurts out her name before I can stop it. “Gigi?”

Her head snaps around, eyes trying to locate the person that called her name. When she realizes it was me, she flattens her expression. “You.”

“What are you doing?”

First, she’s loitering outside of the tattoo parlor while me and the supposed love of her life are having sex. Now, she just so happens to be outside of my apartment block in the city. Something seems off.

She went ballistic when she found me in the ammo room with Bishop. She hates me—valid. I’d hate her too if the shoe was on the other foot andshewas having sex with somebodyIwas crushing on.

But I wouldn’t follow her into the city, or wait outside of her apartment block.

It’s too much.

I frown. Wasshethe one who planted the Reaper Sons document under my door? Is she trying to play with me? Break the bikers and me up?

I laugh, unable to contain myself. “I’ll give it to you. It was a good attempt.”

She sticks her nose in the air. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know your game. Trying to get me out of the club.”

She folds her arms over her chest, waiting for more. She’s wearing black—a change from the lingerie she wears at the clubhouse. She looks better like this, makeup-free, her hair swirled back into a clip. Without all of the heavy, dramatic makeup, she’s pretty. She must have finally gotten the memo about all whores staying away from the clubhouse.

It just seems too coincidental that out of all the apartment blocks in Vegas,thisis the one she happens to be outside of.

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