My hand balls into a shaking fist as I look around and realize every man in the place is staring at her. Ogling that hot little tush and adjusting themselves.

“Damn, is that really Amarie’s kid?” one of them says to his friend, smacking his lips. “She grew up nice.”

“Jesus, you’re not kidding. Too bad she isn’t poor or I’d be shelling out six figures for a ride of that.”

“Hell yeah, man. Twice on Sunday.”

They dissolve into laughter and the rage in my blood boils ...