“We have to leave tonight, little bird. Car's waiting. Come with me.” He keeps making the same demand, and I keep staring at him like he's crazy. We're standing in my backyard, close to the path leading to his family's gardens, alone as we always are at this time of night.

“Just up and leave?” I ask, staring at my backpack. “I don't know if I'm ready, honestly.”

He catches me in a daze, and takes one wrist in his huge hand, pulling me close to him. “You've finished your classes. You said last week you'd be moving onto acting school next. Robbi, you can do that anywhere. Don't have to be stuck here for another few months while you wait to find out if you're moving to downtown Chicago or Hollywood. Fuck, maybe London.”

“London?” I wince. “I don't have the money or the talent, Luke. I think heading downtown is as good as it's going to get.”

“Say the word, and I'll pull the right strings,” he growls, pushing his hand against my back, sending chills up my spine.

I've heard him serious plenty of times, but this is a whole new level. He won't take no for an answer. He doesn't care about my excuses, my hesitation, or my very sound logic why this is a bad idea. What I can't figure out is why.

Why the hell does he want us to leave so badly? Why tonight?

I stop for a second, staring into his bright blue eyes. They've never been more determined. Tonight, they're unshakeable, even more piercing than usual. He's promising me the universe, and I'm too proud to take a single star.

“This is our second chance. We'll start a whole new life,” he says, brushing his stubble against my cheek when he comes close. “Together, we'll make it happen.”

“That's kinda the thing. I have to do this acting thing myself,” I say softly, hoping he won't take offense. “I can't let you step in. If I'm going to get anywhere, it's got to be with my own talent. If I'm not good enough, if I use your connections, well, I'm only hurting myself. Weakness will shine through in front of the panels, on the stage, or on the screen, if I ever make it that far. I appreciate the offer – really, I do – but all the money and handshakes in the world can't cover for mediocrity.”

“You're not mediocre, Robbi.” His denial comes out so harsh it makes me smile.

If only I believed in myself half as much as he does. We stop moving, eyes lost in each other. Sliding my hands up his big arms, I let my fingers wander, squeezing his biceps. God help me, they're bigger and harder than ever. I think all the heavy lifting on his cargo flights, helping the ground crews get their shipments in and out, are sculpting him into perfection that would make Michelangelo jealous.

“Come away with me,” he says again. “Tonight, Robbi. What's it going to take to slaughter your doubts? I'll stand aside and let you shine in the spotlight, if that's what you want. Long as it's with me, I don't give a damn. I'm not up in your face because it's all about jump starting careers. I'm here, Robbi, because I'm sick of these midnight liaisons. Tired of having to keep our love a secret from the rest of this fucked up world because they wouldn't get it.”

My heart skips a beat. Love?

Sensing the heat in my eyes, he stops and reaches up, running his fingers through my hair. “That's right, beautiful. I said it. I mean it. I love you, babe, and one fine day I'm going to show you it's forever. I'll have my ring on your finger before everybody else starts beating down the door of a world class star.”

“Luke...” I don't know what to say.

Love? Marriage? As wonderful as it sounds, it's happening so fast. The heat in my head expands until I'm feeling faint.

Seeking grounding, I push my hands into his, lacing fingertips, and squeeze. His heat, his strength, his sweet stability dashes the questions murmuring in my head.

“You better not just be saying this because I'm about to let you in my pants,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

His smirk rises, bringing the heat between my legs up a hundred degrees. “That's exactly why I'm telling you tonight, and you know it. Sex changes everything between a man and a woman, especially when it's more than straight up fucking. With us, it's more than I ever imagined it could be. I want to leave tomorrow. Let the next sunrise start the rest of our lives. Come with me, baby. We can find a hotel downtown, leave all this bullshit here behind.”

His happiness wilts when he looks around, gesturing to the bungalow behind me, and then to his huge modern castle in the distance behind him. Grabbing my shoulders, his fingers dig deep, and he comes in, pressing his forehead to mine so hot it burns.

“I don't know. I want to, but...”

“But what? You're still afraid? You think the two ghosts living with you here will ever care about you more than me?” He pulls back, his eyes locked onto mine. “I'm not looking to bring up your family drama. I want to take you away from it, before it drags you down. Not sure what I'd have become if I didn't have so much on my end bogging me down. It's only been that way because I let it, Robbi. That's what I've realized since I started going on those flights – we're not nailed down to these lives. We can fly. Go anywhere, be anybody, and love like the rest doesn't matter because it really fucking doesn't.”

“Okay, fine! Whatever. Let's just roll the dice.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, his kiss seals the deal. The soft, sweet fire dashing across my lips convinces me more than words ever will, and they've been pretty convincing too, tonight. “I love you, Luke. We'll leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Hesitation swells in his eyes. I start laughing when I imagine everything rushing through his mind, thinking he's just had what I've promised him tonight delayed by a whole twenty-four hours.

“Let's go to my room. As long as we leave by six in the morning, they'll never know. Mom doesn't even come home some nights. Dad just stops in to eat breakfast and cleanup. He sleeps at the bar most nights.”

It takes a long stare and a tug of his hand to convince him. Soon, we're moving in through the backdoor, fumbling into the spartan kitchen while his hands move all over me.

Whatever held him back before, it's gone now. Luke corners me, pushes me into the counter, shoving me up on it, folding my arms and legs around him. He buries me in several more panty soaking kisses, then his mouth moves down to my neck, working with more freedom than it's ever had before.

I'm breathless before he lifts me up, slinging me over his shoulder. He's panting too, and my thigh brushes the raging hardness through his jeans. “You'd better be right about your folks staying the hell away tonight. Because once we start, I'm not stopping for anything. I'll violate you seven ways from Sunday with the entire world watching if I have to.”

Before I can say anything, he silences me with another kiss. His tongue pushes deep into my mouth, conquering mine, pulsing more heat into me. I'm burning.

I'm in heat, just like an animal. I've resisted him for so long I'm not even bothered by his crude promise. Hell, crude sounds pretty damned good right now.

We're in love, and I'm ignorant about what really goes on between the sheets, but I know I don't want him to hold back anything. I want him to use me hard, push me to places I've only imagined, show me the hot white ecstasy I've thought about inside the stars while his pleasure becomes mine.

“There, Luke,” I whisper, pointing to the shoebox bedroom straight ahead. He carries me in and throws me down on the bed a moment later, kicking the door shut with a bang.

We're alone. His hands are on me. Twisting, stretching, maneuvering off my clothes. I don't stop to help him because he knows exactly what he's doing.

My sweater disappears in his hands as swiftly as my jeans. He swipes my bra open with one jerk, popping the clasp, freeing my aching nipples for his teasing mouth. When his lips come down on the first little bud, I tense, falling backwards on the bed and grabbing the sheets.

Sweet. Holy. Heaven.

I've found it, and the key was always having this man's mouth engulfing my nipple. His teeth form the perfect ring, divine tension, holding it taught while his tongue lashes the tip again and again. My pussy rises to meet his knee, poised between my legs. I moan when he lets me have just a little bit of pressure against my clit.

“Save some of that honey for when I'm in you, baby girl,” he whispers, his blue eyes stabbing mine like daggers. “It's going to flow hotter and richer than anything you've ever felt when you're wrapped around this cock. You're still afraid and unsure. I see it in your eyes. Won't be that way much longer.”

“No!” My head snaps to one side. I'm a pathetic liar, melting as he cups my chin with one palm, making room for his lips all over my throat. His other hand slides down the curve of my waist, a cool tingle in the wake of his fingertips.

“I'm ready,” I tell him, trying to breathe. “For you, I'm ready for anything.”

“Correction: you will be soon. Soon, little bird. I'll set you free and teach you how to fly. I'll mend every last fracture in those wings, every fear and doubt you've got left churning in your blood. We don't just fuck with these bodies. We reminds ourselves why we live.”

Something is definitely living deep inside me when he starts pulling off my pants. A dozen butterflies take flight in my belly. The simple act of fabric shimmying down my thighs causes my legs to shake.

Sweet anticipation. Sweet and short because he won't keep teasing me forever. Luke's breath flares hot against my skin, summoning goosebumps. His huge chest rises and falls as his face moves between my legs, kissing up my thighs, tasting me and inhaling the hot need surging in my pussy. His hands grip my knees, pulling my legs apart.

Muscles I didn't know I had go taut. He spreads my legs wider, making room for his magnificent shoulders. He reaches straight for my panties, tightens his grip around the lacy fabric, and pulls.

I'm embarrassed when he sees the wet spot. His eyes glow, amused because I'm just one more toy responding predictably to his touch. He rubs his thumb across the stain, drawing a deep breath, before he throws them over his shoulder and plants another kiss on my upper thigh.

“It's been too long, Robbi. You need it bad.” he tells me, reading my mind. “Don't stop screaming when my tongue starts fucking your sweet little cunt. It's music to my ears. Remember how much I like it when you're coming too hard to remember your own name.”

Lofty promises. If it were any other man, I'd think he was exaggerating.

But Lucus Shaw doesn't BS about sex. Before his tongue sweeps across my swollen virgin lips for the first time, I know I'll be hoarse by the end of the night.

My mouth trembles. I'm holding it in, tugging on the sheets like reins, muscles stretching so tight my ass lifts automatically, tries to escape the maddening pleasure steaming from his mouth.

He doesn't like that. His hands reach behind me, clench my ass, and pull me into his tongue.

Growling, he holds me there, and goes to work fulfilling every last word he promised. Luke buries his face. Licking, sucking, tonguing deep inside me, ringing my clit with his teeth.

I gasp. I moan. I'm trembling when I can't hold back the screams anymore.

His tongue seeks them out, discovering the spots that make sirens come to life in my throat, then working them like mad. He's taking me over the edge in record time, faster than my busy little fingers ever brought sweet release.

Every new movement of his tongue on my tender flesh becomes a word. I hear it in my head when his hungry circles dance around my clit, taking me closer and closer to the edge, before shoving me over.

Fly for me, little bird. Come on my tongue.

Come so fucking hard you soar before falling from the sky.

Like I need the encouragement. My body goes off in a blinding, hot, pussy drenching convulsion. Tipping my head back, pressing it deep into the mattress, I scream for all I'm worth.

My legs quake, threatening to slam shut, but he holds them open. His mouth binds me back to earth when I'm completely gone, lost in the bliss, halfway to the sun where everything is hot and bright and perfect.

Also, tingly. Needles dance through my skin, prickling me through the inside out. I wish someone told me an orgasm with a man, the right man, could feel like full body acupuncture.

I'm coming down from the high when I sense his hand on my face. Luke cups my cheek, forcing me to open my eyes. I see him hovering over me while his fingers stroke a few last aftershocks into my quivering pussy.

“I'll never forget your O as long as I live. You're beautiful when you come for me,” he whispers, breathing heavy, stopping to run his tongue over his lips. He's still tasting me. “Robbi, fuck.”

“I love you, Luke.” I wonder why saying it makes me feel a hundred times more vulnerable than when his face is between my legs. Red, shameful fire beats against my cheeks, turning them raw.

“Good.” He smiles, touching his forehead to mine, a subtle gesture I'm loving more every time it happens. “Because I'm going to make you come harder next time, babe. I'll watch your little face blown to smithereens the next thousand times you're coming for me. I'll swallow your screams on our wedding night, on our honeymoon, when we're done with condoms and I'm fucking our first born into you. Love means something because you're fucking mine.”

He's insane, but he's right. His words, his promises, they make me shudder with their weight. Emotions fold in my heart, tight like a security blanket, lovingly tucked around me by the only man I'll ever allow in.

“Show me,” I say, needling my bottom lip with my tongue. “I want you in me. I've wanted it since the first night you chewed me out, and I hated you. Even when I thought you were an asshole, I wanted it.”

I don't know why I'm confessing, spilling my inner secrets all over him. It just makes his smirk bigger, wider and more amused than I've ever seen it. He holds my face, running his hand back across my ear, collecting blonde hair in his hand before he closes it in a fist.

“You shocked the fuck out of me that night. Saw a piece of me I never showed anyone. I knew it wasn't an innocent mistake. Knew we'd either end up taking this thing all the way, loving each other bigger and deeper than the shadows over our own lives, or we'd have to end it all.”

“End it?” I ask, when he's done laying another steaming kiss on my lips.

“Yeah. We'd absolutely destroy each other. Scorched earth. Torches, pitchforks, and sledgehammers. Mortal enemies, babe. Who ever charted where love and hate ends? I think they're neighbors, and it doesn't take much to blur the lines.”

“I'm glad it's ending on the right side.” I mean it. I can't imagine what he'd do to me if he hated me, if he'd pursued me as a monster instead of the man after my heart.

“Wrong. It's just beginning, beautiful. We're not even done with tonight until you've had my dick showing you things my tongue can only dream of.” There's a crinkling sound near his legs. I realize he's pulled a condom from his pocket, and he's testing the foil, crinkling it in his fingers. He stops, holding it, and gives me an icy stare.

The time for talk is over, especially with the maddening hard-on bulging between his legs. He climbs off the bed and stands at the edge, pushing his fingers through mine, pulling me up. “Undress me first,” he says, relaxing his arms.

I'm feeling bashful again. Amazing how that works, when he's seen me naked for the last half hour. Maybe it's because I've never seen him, and now he's ordering me to undo one more mystery.

I need his hands to guide me. I fumble several times, drawing his shirt off over his huge chest. He's even more gorgeous bare.

The ink is the real surprise. I'd only seen the ends on his arms before, stripes and criss-crosses, never knowing they were just the edges to a beautiful tapestry scrawled all over him. There's a falcon spreading its wings on his chest, screaming at the sky, lightning arcing out to his shoulders. My hands take their time roaming him while we kiss, melting my pussy with new, wet need.

The mysteries aren't all swept away. I don't know what the date stamped on his shoulder in the broken heart means. 2-13-97 probably has something to do with his dead mother. It's beautiful and sad like the rest of him, and I'm so lost in his wild ink I almost forget all about his pants.

“Down, baby, down. I want your lips full of cock. Start sucking, and I'll teach you everything.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently lowers me to the floor.

Then his fingers are on his zipper, slowly pulling it down, urging me to reach inside while he undoes his belt. My hands warm when I pop the clasp, tugging his jeans to his knees.

My second surprise of the night pops out when I shove his boxers down to meet them.

Lucus Shaw is huger, harder, and more eager than anything I imagined.

Dicks aren't supposed to be like this, are they? Hung doesn't begin to describe the thick, angry root throbbing in front of me. It's strong, bigger than life, and maybe a little dangerous. No different than the other six foot something of glorious man it's attached to.

“Stroke,” he growls, putting his hand over mine, guiding my fingers forward. His cock jerks as soon as my fingers hug his tender skin.

I can barely form a complete fist around it. My pussy goes slick from the challenge while I stroke him slowly, up and down, gliding across his length.

It's hard to fathom how he's going to fit inside me, but God willing, I'll take every feral inch.

“Nice and easy, little bird. Fuck, that's good,” he groans, letting his head roll back on his shoulders. “Now, put that shy tongue to work like you've always wanted.”

My lips part. I start with the tip, tasting him for the very first time. He's salt, earth, masculine to the core. Opening my mouth wide, I lower it onto his length, rolling his swollen head against my tongue.

“More,” Luke groans, positioning his hand on the back of my head.

He eases me lower in a slow, gentle bobbing motion. I listen for his commands and his pleasure. My tongue revisits the same places on his skin and his breath shortens. It's hot knowing I can choke a man with pleasure, whenever I push the right buttons.

He's so big, so strong, everything I want. I swear I'll bring him to his knees one day with this mouth, after I've memorized the things that electrify his nerves.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah!” he groans, over and over, just like a mantra, background music to my tongue working his cock. My confidence grows every second.

I'll need lots of practice to perfect my technique. At least I'm off to a good start, even if I can't get more than a few inches past my jaw without tearing up. He's so big it would hurt if I'm not careful.

There's a strange power to sucking him off, a risk that fans the flames building up inside me. A sick, dark part of me likes that he can hurt me.

Every time his hand pulls on my hair, I'm reassured he won't. He's in control, introducing my virgin mouth to new delights, teaching me how he wants to be pleased.

It's just like he said – we'll end up lovers, going all the way – or we'll be mortal enemies.

The yin and yang of possibility tastes divine against my tongue. I devour his pleasure, bobbing my lips faster now, each time he dips his head backward, his short dark hair spiking out in the shadows. The blue flames in his eyes are contained, raging inward, because they're pinched shut.

He's focusing on my heat wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into the undertow. I don't know what to expect if he blows in my mouth, but I'm ready to find out.

I can't wait to taste him at his fullest, his peak, his flood.

Can't wait for him to lose it, to make him seize. He'll give in, pouring himself into me, the same way I've surrendered to his tongue.

“Good, good, good, baby girl. Sweet fuck!” He's groaning, swearing every other stroke.

I try quickening my speed, but it's all new to me, and it isn't easy. I slow my strokes, focusing my tongue, digging into the spot under his cock's head that causes his entire body to tense.

Please come, Lucus Shaw. I need you.

Just when I'm expecting him to ride my tongue to release, I feel tension in my hair, a hand lifting my head away. “Enough.” His eyes are open, looking down, staring in judgment so fierce I blush.

“Was it good?” I whisper, terrified it wasn't.

“No. It was fucking incredible, Robbi. You'll get another crack at making me come down your throat soon enough, but we have more important business.” Pausing, he presses his hand against my cheek, holding my face so there's nowhere to look except his eyes. He lowers his lips to mine, painting them in a new brute heat with his kiss. “My cock can't handle keeping you a virgin a minute longer. Stand up, lay down, and spread your legs. I want that cherry, babe.”

I'm in a haze as I obey. Cool autumn air brushes against my pussy when my thighs shift open. He finishes shedding his pants and boxers before he joins me on the bed, naked and perfect. The bed is so small holding both of us, sinking under his weight. Perfect for bringing our bodies closer to sin.

He takes my mouth in his. Several kisses in, a slave to his tongue, I hear the condom's foil tearing again, this time all the way open.

My eyes flick down to the space between us. Massive cock in his hand, and he rolls the condom on skin tight. Rearing up, he taps the throbbing head against my leaking pussy, teasing me in long, delicate strokes like a painter testing his canvass.

“Please. Luke, please.” I think he wants me to beg. Whether that's true or not, it's happening, and my pussy is about to kill me with anticipation if he doesn't do something in the next thirty seconds.

“Look at me, Robbi. Need your eyes on mine when I stretch you open. It's a special night for both of us. You're kissing your virgin ass goodbye. I'm having the best fuck of my life.”

He's so sure. Confidence is sexy, they say. Must be true because my blood is boiling when he gazes at me again, his eyes narrowed, focused on the prize he's claiming.

His hand comes up, heavy and hot on my cheek. He's holding my face as his hips move forward, one thrust away from breaking the barrier between us. It's a good thing, too, because my whole body wants to thrash. The wait is torture.

“Please.” It leaves my mouth like a whimper.

“Love you, Robin. I always will.” It's the last words I hear as a virgin.

Luke's hips plow forward. One thrust, and he's in, shoving his thick cock into me. He doesn't stop until he's reached the hilt, his heavy balls resting on my ass, shifting my pussy to accommodate him along the way.

Holy shit. It's incredible. There's a soft, sharp ripping sensation when he's in, rooting his thickness deep inside me. Yes, it hurts, but the pleasure shadowing the pain is worth it, a promise of bliss in the stinging depths.

“Fuck me,” I say, wrapping my legs around him, urging him on.

His nostrils flare. The hand on my cheek moves down, gently to my throat, cradling me with a tender, awesome power. One more reminder we've chosen to be lovers, when we could be each other's total undoing.

I let him savor the moment for twenty seconds before I start moving my hips into his. The motion makes his eyes widen, drilling into mine.

We're fucking like real lovers now, finding our rhythm. Flesh tangled, breath pouring, sweat steaming from our pores.

A dozen more strokes, harder than the first, and the pain recedes with every thrust. New pleasure fills my veins, simmering my nerves. I'm digging my teeth into my bottom lip, ecstasy pooling around my womb, an inferno refusing to be contained for long.

Wrapping my arms around his broad neck, I use the extra leverage to fuck him back. Maybe it's too much, too soon, but I don't care. My pussy takes him better each time our hips collide.

Every thrust leads me deeper into a wild, primal mode I didn't know I had. When he rears up, lifts my legs, and throws them over his shoulder, giving his cock more depth and more sweet friction, I'm panting through clenched teeth.

“Oh, Luke!” I cry out, hands on his arms, fingernails cutting into his skin.

Oh, God. It's sex as it's meant to be: uninhibited, wild, exciting to the very end.

And my first end, my crescendo, comes with the bed quaking. He fucks me harder and faster, slamming his big cock into me, his balls clapping my ass in steady, rough beats.

I'm going over the edge, breathless and mouth open, lips frozen in a silent scream. Hot blood floods my extremities. My pussy tightens around his pistoning cock, clenches, and electrifies.

Luke never relents while I'm coming myself into the next universe. His thrusts power through it, coming harder all the time, especially when my pussy clings to him like a glove. It's sweet, rampant madness massaging my walls, bringing every inch of me off into the white hot yonder.

His thrusts only slow when I'm coming down, letting me catch my breath. Then he positions himself lower, pinning my thighs around him, before he slides one hand underneath my head to fist my hair.

“Wake the fuck up, beautiful. We're not finished yet,” he growls, pulling my blonde locks.

No, we're not. My body knows when he starts to rut in harder, slower strokes, dragging his pubic bone against my clit. New delicious fire kindles in my depths, bringing my muscles back to attention, turning me into his willing virgin slave anew.

I want him to come.

I need him to come inside me.

Both my hands go to his face, raking my nails through his stubble, begging him with just my eyes while my third orgasm of the night is building stroke-by-stroke.

“Please, Luke. Please. I need to feel it.”

“You'll get it, and you'll fucking love it, babe.” He stops moving, adding one more round of torture to our loving. “Move like you want it. Show me how bad you've got it before I give it up.”

Whatever shyness and shame is left in me fades. I don't recognize myself anymore when I'm pinching him with every limb, folding myself around him to move my pussy against his cock, drawing his length in and out and over the moon.

Come for me, beautiful bastard, I think to myself. My teeth pinch together so tight I'm afraid they'll break. I'm struggling to hold back my latest release before he erupts inside me. Please. Fucking. Come.

He doesn't understand. It's no longer a want, but something I need.

I need it to know we're real.

I need it to know we'll always have this love.

I need it to know I'm making the right choice, running away with him tomorrow, leaving everything I've ever known for wherever he leads.

There's a flash of smirk on his face before he moves with me again. This time, there's nothing held back. His cock fucks into me with a crazy, bone jarring force I swear shakes the entire house.

My eyes roll back in my head, and there's no way I can hold back the inevitable for a second longer. The fireball in my belly bursts, spilling bright, orgasmic heat into me again, and his growl becomes a roar through the maelstrom.

“Robbi, fuck!”

Just in time. I'm smiling as his cock balloons, adding his heat to mine. He ruptures in thick, fiery jets I swear I can feel hurling out of him even through the condom.

My pussy convulses, sending shocks into every muscle, every extension of who I am.

Toes to fingertips to the edges of my soul.

Yes, it's ridiculous. Cheesy. Clichéd.

I'm the virgin girl responding like a violin's strings to a virtuoso's touch her very first time. Coming so sweetly, our bodies in tune, giving as much as they take. Making beautiful music I'll never forget for the rest of my life.

I don't care what anyone says. It's real, damn it, and I relish it all night as he bends me over, folds me around him, puts his mouth between my legs again and again.

It's just before dawn when we're finally spent. We've barely said a word all night, speaking with our flesh instead, lost to the world's depressing complexities in each other.

“Sleep for a few hours,” he tells me, shoving my hand off his cock when I move to make him hard again for round...round what? I've honestly lost track. “If we don't get out of here by six, like you said, there'll be hell to pay.”

He's right, as much as it makes me pout. I snuggle into his chest, using his scary falcon as a pillow, hand laid over the mysterious date stamped on his shoulder. “Goodnight, Luke. I know I'll have sweet dreams thanks to you.”

“Get used to it, little bird. If there's nightmares rolling around in your head after this, I haven't done my job.” His face moves into mine.

We kiss one more time. It's love, salt, and sugary sweetness. The kind of kiss that hurts every time you remember it as your last because it's so real, so honest, so fucking perfect.

If I'd known what was coming next, I would have kissed him again. Maybe the next one would've been a little less immaculate, and wouldn't weigh on my heart like a back breaking boulder tethered to the past.

* * *

There's a crash. Pounding. Screams.

I wake up in a cold sweat to an empty bed. Luke is already up, pulling on his boxers, stumbling to the door and stopping there with his fists flexed.

“Robin! What're you doing? Wake up, wake up! We have to leave now!” Mom's voice. She's pounding on my door again, slamming her fist into it like no tomorrow.

“I said back the fuck away, cheating whore! You're not taking her. You're not taking my little girl!”

My heart jumps into my throat. The other voice is dad, boiling with rage. I'm blindsided. I think it's the first time I've heard my parents together in months. Never like this.

“Luke...” I look at him, shirtless and beautiful as ever, not knowing what to say. “Let her in. They're going to find out.”

“You sure?” He lifts his eyebrows, a surprised look that would be sexy if he weren't standing there half-naked, just as confused as me at the commotion outside.

“Robbi, please! Hurry!” Mom again, giving the door another round of violent slaps.

“Just a second!” I yell back. I'm up, throwing off the covers, stepping into the closet for fresh clothes. He waits another minute while my parents turn on each other.

I can't make out the steady stream of curses, insults, and accusations. At first, I think my father's completely lost his mind.

He's drunk. There's no doubt with the way he's slurring his words. Nothing else explains why he'd be rampaging through the house, screaming at my mother, accusing her of high crimes and atrocities.

There's just enough time to get dressed. Luke throws on his outfit, and peeks out the window, looking toward his car. It's still there, untouched. If my parents have noticed I'm not alone in here, they haven't said anything. Hell, they haven't said anything about it through the screaming.

“Robin Marie Plomb! I said, open up! Now!” Mom again. More desperate than before. This time, when her fist hits the wood, it doesn't stop.

“Back off, bitch! You're scaring her! She doesn't need your damned help.” Dad again, roaring, closer as it sounds like he tries to grab her, and throws her against the wall.

The chaos doesn't stop until Luke stomps over, grabs the knob, and practically rips it off its hinges. Dad has her against the wall, digging his fingers angrily into her shoulders, just like I thought.

The early warning in my imagination does nothing to blunt the pain tearing through my heart. What the hell is happening here?

They've never had a screaming match, much less laid their hands on each other in anger.

My mother's red, tear streaked face eyeballs us in shock when she sees Luke standing there. It takes her huge eyes a couple seconds to look behind him, following the trail to me. Dad doesn't move, loosening his grip ever so slightly on her, just enough to let her drop, and pull herself away from his drunken hands.

“You.” It's all she says when she's free, before she fixes her eyes on me, and doesn't let them waver.

“Get your things together, Robbi. Pack some clothes. We're leaving right now. I'm taking you far, far away from this fucked up place.”

“Leaving? Why?” I'm stunned, confused, and frightened all at once.

She ignores Luke, pushing past him, sneering at me. “No more questions! There'll be time to explain everything later. We have to pack!”

She's serious. If flying into my closet and ripping shirts off their hooks is what she calls packing, anyway.

I'm too stunned to move, much less question yet again what the fuck is happening.

“Ericka!” Dad breaks his trance and comes staggering in, knocking a few things off my nightstand as he runs into it. “Cheating fuckin' bitch. I told you to leave her alone. You're not going anywhere.” His words are slurred. An empty whiskey bottle hangs limply from his hand. “Wha...what're you doing here?” he slurs, noticing Luke for the first time.

Mom never lets my man answer. “Danny, I'm not talking about this here, in front of her! For the last fucking time – get out! Leave us be, or I'm calling the cops.”

Ever the guardian, Luke moves between my parents and me. We watch the hot mess unfolding in front of us.

My parents in the closet, trading barbs, tangled in the clothing. One of my dresses covers dad's eyes as he stumbles through the chaos. He grabs onto the fabric, trying to prevent himself from toppling over. It doesn't help. He goes down on the floor slowly, and I wince, listening to fabric shearing apart.

“Look what you've done, you drunken idiot!” Mom shrieks.

I throw my fists up, just as Luke grabs me, wrapping his big arms around my waist. I start hitting him because he's the only one in sight. I don't care that he might be the only one here who makes sense.

“I'm not going anywhere until somebody explains what the fuck is going on!” It's my turn to scream. I pump my fists in the air, starting to shake. It would be worse if it weren't for the manly security blanket wrapped around me.

Mom kicks her way out of the closet, a fistful of my clothes slung over her shoulder, gripped in both hands. She stops in front of us. Dad is still stuck in the closet, wrestling with dresses, quietly cursing every variation of 'fuck Ericka' he can.

“Let go of that boy, Robbi, right this instant! I won't let you make my mistakes.”

What mistakes are those? My face cranes to see Luke as I twist in his arms. He's looking past me, into her eyes. They're sharing a look like they both know something terrible I don't.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Plomb, your daughter's an adult, and free to make up her own mind,” Luke tells her. “I think you ought to walk the fuck out of this house, and take the drunk with you. He needs help. It's going to take a lot of counseling to sort out your shit.”

Mom doesn't say a word. Her feet begin moving a second later. She walks up, stops in front of us, and reaches past me. Luke grunts when her hand lands on his cheek, so forcefully it echoes through the entire house like a gunshot.

“Release my daughter now, you spoiled, fucked up brat. This isn't your fight, and she's much too good for you. I never should've brought my family to this place. Never should've let my guard down for an instant. Never should've gotten involved with your disgusting rich father and his stupid, stupid promises!”

“There it is!” Dad bellows from the closet. “There it fucking is! Least you're not afraid to kick me in the nuts one last time confessing, Ericka.”

“Like you have any balls to kick,” she sneers, before turning her attention back to Luke and me. “Robin, please. I know this doesn't make any sense. Mistakes were made. I've been selfish, put myself above your own well being, and I'm done with that today. We need space. We can't stay here for a second longer. I have to get you away from this place, away from him, before the Shaws and their filthy hands ruin everything.”

It sounds like they already have. I wonder why Luke is so quiet. His whole jaw line glows red, hot like burning metal from the scorch mark she's left on his face. He doesn't even reach up to rub it. He just stands there like a sentinel, holding me in his fading grip, staring her down.

“You heard your husband. Leave her the fuck alone,” he growls, resting his chin in my hair.

“No. I won't allow another Shaw to use my daughter and throw her away. That's all your family knows how to do. Call the police now, if you'd like. I'm taking her away for her own good. You'll need a restraining order to stop me from protecting her!”

“Mom!” I can't take it anymore. I cut in, before he can say anything, stirring her up more. “I'm not going with you until you explain what's happened. I'm sorry you had to walk in on this. I don't know what's going on between you and dad, but I –“

“She cheated! She's a liar, a whore, a goddamned backstabber!” Dad roars from the closet, finally up on all fours, still too tangled in my dresses to crawl toward us. “Don't listen to a word she says, honey. Tried to get the truth out of her for months. Took Frank Shaw handing us both a pink slip to find out she was fucking him all along!” His fist slams the floor.

His rage is overwhelming. I don't know whether my lungs are going to explode first, or my eyes from the fiery tears I'm holding in.

Their marriage was never good. They'd been growing distant for years, especially after I hit my teens. But if there's any truth to this, if my mom was cheating – and with the head of the Shaw household, Luke's father – then I've just been hit with a bigger blow to the gut than I know what to do with.

“Stay back,” Luke warns again, pulling me several steps backwards. “Both of you.” He nods toward my dad on the floor, twisted in my garments.

“Sure, Mr. High and Mighty. I'll just fold my arms and wait while you take off with my girl. I'll pretend you didn't know about us the entire fucking time. Like you didn't know what your father was doing to me, strong-arming me into his bed. Like you haven't already gotten her wrapped around your pathetic little finger, something you've inherited from him. Tell me, boy, would you have dumped her for your next mistress as soon as you had her brainwashed? Maybe a married woman, like the kind your father likes? Or does that gene skip a generation?”

Luke says nothing. He continues to hold me, daring her to say or do something that'll give him an excuse to make good on his warnings.

“Come on. You're not blind, boy. I heard you slinking around the house at least a dozen times when I was with your father. You knew, and you did nothing, because it's business-as-usual in your twisted world.”

Knew what? I'm struggling to keep up with her nasty words. There's an evil conviction in her voice. It scares me.

He couldn't have known about my mother cheating. He would have said something...wouldn't he?

I spin around, freeing myself from his greedy arms, searching his eyes. “Luke? Don't tell me you knew about this? It isn't true!” Denial is poison, and it stings my tongue with every word.

There's a long silence. He lowers his head, staring at the floor, shifting uncomfortably. “I wanted to get you out of here before something like this came down, Robbi. I knew you'd be hurt. Yeah, I had my suspicions for awhile. But I didn't know anything for sure until yesterday. I just knew it'd break your heart when you found out the hard way, and I tried to save you from that.”

My hands go up, covering my mouth. I'm breathing into my hands, hard and heavy. “You knew. You lied to me.”

“Lied? No, baby, no. I did you a favor.”

He's lying right now. “Favor? What the fuck is wrong with you? You thought I wasn't strong enough? That I couldn't handle the truth? Jesus. That's all I've ever wanted. Honesty. It's part of love. When you said you loved me, I thought you understood.” I look at him, tears welling in my eyes, wondering how we can already be worlds apart. “You lied. How do I ever trust you again?”

“Because I tried to do the right thing, and I fucked up, Robin.” He stands up straight, pain tightening his jaw, grinding out every word leaving his mouth. “I'm sorry. You have to believe I am. Look, this doesn't have to change anything. We don't need to let this bullshit come between us. You're not thinking straight because it's hitting you in the face right now. It hurts too much. Let's get out of here, babe. Clear your head. Get you the fuck away from this drama, this insanity.”

I'm backing up on instinct. I don't realize I'm on top of my mother until she grabs me, locks her arms around my waist, and holds on for dear life. “He knew the entire time, Robbi, and he didn't say a thing. Don't believe him when he says he only found out a day ago. How many times did I see him lurking out the corner of my eye when I was with Frank? Oh, he knew, and he kept it to himself. He wanted you for something else. I hope you didn't give it to him, but it's not your fault if you did. That's what the Shaws do. They lie.”

Luke bares his teeth, his lips peeling back in a snarl. My mother looks him dead in the eye, unrelenting, her words coming hot and painful.

“They blackmail. They bribe. They make you do things you never would in your right mind. They treat women like their personal toys. Ultimately, they break them, just like they take a hammer to everyone's lives, and they never care who picks up the pieces. I'm so sorry. I'll apologize up and down for my part, but I think you'll understand I didn't have much choice after I tell you the rest. But I'll own my part in this, unlike him. I'm still your mother, and I love you. Leave with me, Robbi. We'll figure out the rest. Please. Trust me.”

She's hurt me almost as much as Luke. So has dad, for that matter, drooling on the floor in his drunken, confused rage. His leg continues to kick helplessly at my clothing wrapped around him, but he's stopped yelling.

Decision time.

I break eye contact first. Luke won't take his eyes off me. He's staring, hoping he can make me reconsider, hold me to him by sheer willpower in his gaze.

That's what I expect to see when I take one last glance at his face. But it's not fiery determination. It's pain, defeat, and maybe a little panic.

He's just watched the world he tried to save me from go up in smoke. He doesn't know how to fix this. He doesn't know how bad he's hurt me, and there's no combination of words he can find to make me forgive, forget, or trust again.

We're both fucking lost. That's the last thing we have in common, standing in this rubble. Unsure who's going to make the next move, but certain it's going to be a terrible one.

I'm standing in the middle of a three way wreck, a pileup. It's brutal proof I'm the most blind, gullible person on the planet, or at least anywhere in the Shaw's vast empire.

Yes, that's ego talking. Raw, scorched, wounded pride.

I don't know who to trust.

With everything happening around me, I'm not even sure if I ought to be trusting myself.

My hands go to my chest, covering the bitter throb behind my ribs. I'm going pale from the emotional bleeding, the wounds everyone in this room inflicted on me.

It hurts to think. I have to get out of here before I go insane.

I can't go with Luke. I also can't stay with my well meaning, but alcoholic father, who seriously needs to find his way into rehab. If he's right about being off the Shaw payroll, we'll all be evicted in a matter of days. Maybe hours.

“Robbi...” Luke says my name. There's an edge in his voice. His eyes are big, bright, and pleading. Strong, perhaps, but his power isn't enough.

I can't feel the adoration in his gaze anymore. Only lies. It belongs to a man who said he loved me, but doesn't love mean openness, honesty, as well as strength?

How can I trust him when he's been manipulating me?

How can I trust him after his family ripped a gaping hole through mine, and he knew it was happening?

Was love one more lie?

My head is spinning. I need to leave the room before I suffocate, choking on pain and dishonesty. Throwing my arm around mom's shoulder, she hurries me out to her car. Tears blur my eyes.

I don't dare look back. If I do, I know I'll see him standing there, working himself into a quiet rage as the loss sets in.

If he ever loved me, he'll be hurt. I don't know why, but the thought of seeing it makes me feel worse than knowing he straight up lied.

I don't totally break down until we're on the interstate, leaving the grim Shaw estate in the rear view mirror forever.

Liar or not, I'll never forget the look on his face. He betrayed me, and he knew it.

Whether he was sorry for himself for getting caught, or just sorry, I don't know. I don't care.

Trusting Lucus Shaw was my biggest mistake. Loving him was my second. I'm not letting him back in my life long enough to make a third.