Staying with my Dad was never on option for me.

Not that I would have chosen it, but when my brother

chose Dad he was also choosing not me, right?”

“I’m sorry about that, sugar.”

“Yeah, well…Anyway, I hit up Dad for the music camp money, but of course he had to “think about it”, a
process that usually involved holding whatever I needed over my head until the last minute. There was a
set date you had to get your deposit for the camp in by, and something something something your final
grades part time job commitment to pay me back in installments respectful attitude something else. The
asshole wanted to milk a bit more obsequiousness out of me, so…well, where was the deposit money
going to come from? So it came out of the bottom drawer of Mom’s dresser, and we came up short on
the rent that month.

“And yes, Mom knew I’d done it. She had to know. I wouldn’t have denied it if she’d asked me, but she
did even bother. She already knew. That was the real gut punch, you know?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Yeah, well…Anyway….Anyway, I kind of miss going to class. So maybe I did something shitty to my mom
for a reason, right?”

Z got really quiet. He swirled his wine in the glass.

“School. That important to you?”

“Well, yeah. I was lucky to get in. I didn’t even expect to hear back from them, honestly. I was shaking
during the interview. Maybe all those years of obsequiousness under my father finally made the
difference.”

“Daddy’s a nice guy, pussy. Nice enough he could maybe let you go to your classes.”

She gaped, the carefully torn salad greens nearly falling out before she covered her mouth.

He cocked a brow. “You got no manners, girl.”

“Sorry. I…you would though?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, how? I already let you do me in the butt, you know.”

He shook his head although the side of his mouth twitched.

“There would be stipulations. Rigorous stipulations.”

“Like?”

“Escort at all times.”

“Like, in Music Ensemble?”

“No, peach. To and from classes.”

It’d probably be Darren, she knew. But even having him glare at her the whole day would be worth it.
“Regular check-ins.”

“With you?”

“Yes. Which means you could have your phone…”

She jumped in her chair. Z gave her a warning look.

“Look at me, pussy.”

She tried to keep her smile under check.

“Your only use of that phone is to call me or your escort. No one else. You wanna lose that phone, lose
those classes, lose the skin off that sweet little ass, that’s the only people you’re going to use that phone
to contact. You feel me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I am gonna check that phone.”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyelids lowered. “This is me being a nice guy. You gonna be a nice girl? ‘Coz if not, you’re gonna
regret it.”

She held her hands out in front of her. “I will. I swear. See? I’m not even crossing my fingers.”

“Hm.”

Then the passion rekindled in his eyes. She smiled, stood and edged her way around the table, towards
him this time. He slid his chair back, accommodating her. She sank down on his lap, straddling him.

“Hello, Daddy,” she breathed.

She put either hand on his shoulder, then slid them up around his neck.

“Girl.”

She planted a soft kiss on the side of his mouth.

“Think I’m a simp, don’t you?”

The next kiss was full and center.

“I don’t even know what that means, daddy.”

“Simpleton. Which you best not think I am.”

“Never, daddy.”

She traced the tips of her fingernails up the back of his neck all the way to his temples.

“You can keep up the ball-clutchin’ though. Won’t help you but can’t hurt none.”

When she started to reach down between his legs he caught her hand.
“Don’t meant that, sugar. Daddy can roll with it all day long, believe that. Maybe allow him the
occasional refractory period though.”

She drew her hand, wrapped in his, up to her mouth. She kissed the tip of each of his fingers, then
added a quick flick of the tongue.

“Girl.”

“I found something interesting today.”

“Yeah. What’s that?”

“In your closet.”

“Ah, peach. You need to keep out of daddy’s business before he takes his exception out on your ass.”

“It was so interesting, though. I couldn’t help myself.”

He made a low growl. “So what you setting up here?”

She’s moved her mouth to the side of his neck, taking tiny little nibbles. “I found daddy’s porno stash.”

“Ya did? How bout I have you pick out a few positions; that’s what I’ll do to you tonight.”

“Those women are very beautiful.”

“That’s the point, darlin’.”

She licked her way up to his ear, then over his lobe, followed by a tiny bite.

“I noticed none of those women look like me, though.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you not into women that look like me?”

“Gentlemen don’t talk about their women, lil’ miss.”

“Never?”

She planted butterfly wing kisses up and down his neck.

“Hmm.”

“What would you say about me?”

He nudged her back by the shoulder.

“What would you say about me, peach? You gonna tell your friends and family, eh?”

He saw the look on her face and shook his head.

“Yeah, I know how this works, princess. I’m the kinda guy you'll date in college to upset your Daddy,
only, don't know, maybe you still worry about Daddy paying bills to try that now.”

She flushed.
“I don’t need my father to pay my bills.”

“Yeah. No financial issues to speak of when your man’s a thief, I guess.”

Scowling, she slid off his lap.

“You’re being a real dick, Z.”

He caught her hand.

“Hold up, sweet pea. You tellin’ me you got no problem?”

She tossed her hair out of her eyes.

“Just you, right now.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “How many black men you dated?”

“None. That doesn’t make me racist, you know.”

“Didn’t say it did.”

“What about you then? Have you dated any girls that look like me?”

“Hmm…dated, no.”

“But you don’t have a problem?”

He cocked his brow, and his eyes narrowed.

“Oh, princess. You really wanna have this talk with me?”

She could read the warning well enough.

“No, I don’t. I don’t like your insinuation, though.”

His voice was low and deceptively soft .The warning was still there, stronger, really.

“You want me to apologize, darlin’?”

“No, I don’t. I just…” She shook her head, her next words rushed. “Okay, it’s trite, I know. I really don’t
see race, Z. It sounds stupid, but it’s true.”

“Huh.”

“It’s true. You can make me feel like shit about it if you want. But I don’t. I don’t judge…Okay, I’m not
going to quote MLK.”

“Please. Don’t.”

She cupped her hand over her mouth. He didn’t look away. She wished he would.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you angry, but I’m sorry. Can I apologize? Is that okay?
I’m sorry. It’s not my business who you’ve been with, or like. Or don’t. I’m sorry.”

He said nothing, but his eyebrows gathered in.

“When I was a kid, me and by friend Kenny used to try to flirt with this cashier at the Valero. She looked
like the hot chick from that Buffy show, the blonde one. Wore these short skirts that barely covered her
cooch. We'd go open the glass door to watch her back there in the cooler, waiting for her to bend over,
‘til she yelled at us we were letting the cold air out. She let us back there one time when nobody else
was around. She didn't make either of us men that day but sure made me want to be. My first crush,
peach. She looked a little like you.”

She averted her eyes. There was a burning in her chest, and she thought she might cry.

“Was he…he died, didn’t he?”

“Kenny? Yeah, he did.”

He swirled the wine in the bottom of his glass, took a drink.

“You’ve been busy scouring that closet.”

“I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure if that meant for snooping, for his friend, or for…everything.

“Long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Kenny was a nice kid. Likeable. More so than yours truly. Bit of a clown, bigger talker.”

“Were you…Did you…?”

“No, I wasn’t there when it happened, peach. He died when we were 16, playing football. Head injury.
Went down. Got up. Went down again. Coach sent him home, took a couple Tylenol for a headache.
Never woke up. He was good, hoping to play for the Longhorns. Me, see, I could get in on academics.
Weren't so for ole' Kenny. Feel me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hardened me, that did. Hardened my heart, made me cold. I got my brain, when some only got their
body. Me, I can work people over without them even knowing it. Same way their broker or agent or
employer will. I’ll come at you with a suit and a smile, and best believe if you fuck with me imma fuck
you, too, and I’ll give you a fuck you’re gonna feel. Don’t gotta love me, don’t gotta respect me, but you
damn sure better act like you do.”

He leaned in towards her. “Now you’re gonna remember that, aren’t you, peach?”

His mouthed twisted up into a grin, and she knew what Colin’s friends had said was true. He was
beautiful, and he was dangerous. And she wanted him. Wanted him so bad it hurt.

He pushed his now-empty wine glass forward and sat back.

“So. You found Daddy’s box of nasty. Did you find the rest?”

Her brows knitted. “The rest?”

“The other little thing, princess.”

“No…there was something else?”

“Behind that box.”

He had piqued her curiosity.

“What?”

“Go take a look, “ he said, with a head jerk towards the bedroom.

“What is it?”

“Something you’d already have in hand if you went and looked for it.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Z. Really, you are.”

His eyes narrowed but he gave her a self-satisfied smirk.

“Behind the box, folded up.” He saw her hesitation and encouraged, “Go on, peach.”

She started to the bedroom, peeking a few times behind her. It had to be some kind of a trick. She’d
thought she’d gone over those shelves thoroughly.

She had to climb up two steps to reach the top shelf. She peeked around again. Z had to know she was
stepping over his precious shoes to get up this high but if he actually caught her at it it’d be her ass.
Literally, no doubt.

She nudged the box to the side and reached as far back as she could. Nothing. No, wait. Something
smooth to the touch, slick. Silky.

Silk?

She did her best to get a grip with her fingers. She began, slowly, to pull. It wasn’t until it was nearly free
that she caught even a glimpse. Red. Fire engine red. Streetwalker red.

A red…dress?

She hopped down and held it up.

Definitely a dress.

Slinky red. Slut red.

She wasn’t sure at first which side was the front, it was so low cut. Extremely short, too.

Oh my god, it was the trashiest thing she’d ever seen. She sort of liked it, though.

She carried it to the full-length mirror and slipped it over her head.

Oh, wow. Yeah, that was low-cut. She tugged it down in back.

Better.
She turned from side to side. Then planted one leg forward and propped her hand over the opposite
hip.

She shook her hair and dipped her chin down, with an added lash bat.

So trashy.

She had to cover her mouth for her giggling.

The dress was breaktaking. Definitely indoor-only wear.

Probably something he had one of his women wear around. Those stunning women that didn’t look a bit
like her.

She frowned.

She did another turn for the mirror.

It was a beautiful dress though. She’d never have dared to wear anything like it before.

She heard his voice coming from the living room.

“Princess? You escaping to Narnia in there?”

“No. I found it though,” she called.

“I gotta come in there after ya? Coz I can do that, sugar.”

She adjusted the dress further over her back, then tried to tug it a bit more down within a hands-length
of the top of her knees.

There was to be no respectable ratio with the thing, she decided.

“Uh…I’m not sure this is, uh…something you want to see me in.”

“Oh, sugar. I bet I do.”

Her hands flew up over her cheeks. They’d be a matched set with her present outfit.

“Okay. I’ll come out but…don’t laugh, okay?”

She trod down the hallway, hands reflexively trying to pull down the hem.

Her pace was barely a crawl. Her eyes were fixed at the end the end of the doorway. If she couldn’t see
him, she figured he couldn’t see her either, at least.

“Princess?” It was his strict daddy voice.

She peeked around the corner. He’d seen her.

Point of no return.

She blushed.

He cocked a brow.
She tried one more futile tug at the hem, then stepped into what as well have been a spotlight.

Z was too self-composed to leer, but he was leering all the same.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Not what comes to my mind.”

A flood of giggles engulfed her. She couldn’t stop it. Her hands went first over her face, then over her
mouth.

“This is so raunchy, Z. Oh my god.”

“It suits you, girl.”

Was that an insult? She couldn’t tell. She kept laughing.

He leaned back , flexing his arms behind his neck.

“Hung a little lower on the last lady. You probably got a bit more acreage up top.”

Acreage?

That had to be an insult, didn’t it?

Before she could craft a response, there was a knock on the far door. No one ever used that door, did
they? She’d never seen anyone use that door.

She shuffled back a few steps.

Z didn’t appear alarmed. His voice was as laconic as ever.

“You gonna get that?”

One hand flew up to her chest, the other to the hem of the dress.

“Me?” It came out as a squeak.

Another cock of the brow from the man.

“Z?...Who?...I can’t…” She tugged hard on the hem, which served only to drag the neckline further down
her cleavage.

“Go answer the door.”

Strict daddy in force.

“Z?”

The set of his face would brook no argument from her. She shuffled forward.

Another knock, more insistent. Her heart pounded. The hair on her arms and back of her neck
lifted.
 The door was, somehow, unlocked. Had it been unlocked all this time? Had she really been that
stupid the last five days?

She pulled it open, millimeter by millimeter.

The skinny one and the muscular one, from the other day.

The skinny one smiled at her shyly before dropping his eyes.

The muscular one smiled at her, too, with not a trace of his partner’s innocence. He was ogling
her with none of Z’s sangfroid. She wanted to wrap the front of the dress over her exposed cleavage but
there wasn’t enough fabric.

The muscular one leaned down towards her.

“You wanna invite us in?”

He winked at her.

She felt more naked now than the first day she’d met the two.

She stepped back, not daring to pull at either the neckline or hem of her deathtrap of a dress.

“Hi,” the tall skinny one bumbled. He thrust something at her with freakishly long hands. She
looked down. A pair of plain white pumps.

“My sister’s. Denean. That’s my sister. Her shoes.”

She unfolded them from the man’s grip.

“She’s shorter. Than I am. So maybe they’ll fit.”

“He’s taller. Much less attractive. A lot less polished,” the muscular one added, matching his
companion’s staggered cadence. On purpose it seemed, for he winked at her again and held out his own
hand. A huge gold, onyx and diamond encrusted ring in the shape of a hawk.

She placed her free hand carefully in his grip, afraid the thing might come to life and peck her to
death. He stepped in closer to her.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“On purpose, E.” That was Z.

Hawk-man laughed, inclining his head down to hers. He spoke in a stage whisper. “Elon Burrell.
E-Low, for you.” He jerked a thumb back at his companion. “Spider.”

The skinny one stepped forward and held out his hand awkwardly. Skylar took it, with equal
awkwardness.

“Darby. My name. Darby Gamble.”

“So now you’ve met. Let them in, peach.”

 She stepped aside and the two entered. She looked down at the shoes, unsure what she was
supposed to do with them. She tried to make out the size. About a size up from her own, but probably
workable. At this point though, she’d been running around barefoot so long she wasn’t sure she
wouldn’t slip and fall on her face trying to walk in heels again. She carefully slipped the shoes on,
crouching a little so as the dress didn’t ride up to obscenity levels.

“Come in here, darlin’”

She shuffled her way forward to where Z was holding court. All eyes riveted to her. Well, to her
chest, then to her. Except for the muscular one. His stayed on her chest for longer than was strictly
polite.

“E, she’s taken.”

Skylar widened her eyes at that. He probably didn’t mean Colin, did he? Or did he?

Did he mean himself?

She blushed.

The muscular one—E-Low, did a little flourishing bow.

“My apologies, ma’am.”

He held forward his hawk-hand, but with little subtlety Z’s own pushed past it and took ahold of
Skylar’s wrist, pulling her to his side.

“Ordinarily, darlin’, I wouldn’t subject you to these two, but I got some business needs seen to,
and you got your own.”

“Uh…what?”

“You need some new school clothes, don’t you, sweet pea? Unless you want to wear what you
got on now?”

“What?...No!” Her hands went to the front of the dress.

He cocked his brow. “Then?”

“Can I go home and get my stuff?”

The brow rose higher. That was as good as a “no”. Well, a “no, stupid.”

“New clothes, darlin’. Shopping.”

“How?”

He gave her a slow blink before turning to his guests. She caught of flash of gold as he took
something from his wallet and handed it to skinny one—Darby.

“Keep it under $10.”

$10? What the hell was that supposed to buy her?

Then, oooh.

Her eyes further widened.