Mr. and Mrs. Bowers played Pinochle at the table in the dining room of Thad's house. Lena sat in the living room, in sight of Thad's parents, scrolling through her Facebook newsfeed on her cell phone. Her almost thirty Facebook friends were comprised of dispatchers, policemen, firefighters, and a couple of paramedics she knew in real life. All of them rarely posted, so she skimmed through the local news channels she followed.

An accident on I-205, Portland Trailblazers beat the Phoenix Suns last night, and the first hint of frost would happen Tuesday night. None of the news happening locally compared to being shot at and she wondered if the drive-by would even make the news.

She exited Facebook. Now that she'd been stuck with Thad's parents babysitting her since Thad left for work early this morning, she almost wished Ingrid, Clara, and Gracie would've been allowed to come over and spend the day with her. But, apparently, Wayne and Glen wanted them to stay away from her until the trouble with Tigres was over.

When Thad suggested his parents stay with her, she had no choice but to go back on her desire to not be involved with them. There was safety in numbers, and she had no one who could sit in the house with her.

The police were doing their job, trying to find out who owned the car Thad witnessed drive by the house. Though Lieutenant Gomez had told them both the vehicle was probably stolen or at least had bogus license plates. All she could do was stay inside and wait.

She pulled up Google and hovered her thumb over the screen. After having nothing to do and not wanting to have any conversation with the Bowers, she'd started thinking about Alexander Grimaldi and what he had to do with her mother's hatred toward her, her own daughter. Could her mom have had an affair with the Grimaldi guy during her marriage to the man Lena had thought was her dad her whole life? Could her mom have been pregnant when she met Steve Grayson?

She knew little about her mom's life, only overheard conversations her mom had with Jack. Since her brother had been eight years old when she left, those conversations amounted to nothing but baby talk. Something she'd never experienced. Her mom had always talked to her as if she'd been an adult, responsible for all the pain in the world.

She typed 'Alexander Grimaldi' into the search bar on her phone. Then, she looked up at Thad's parents and caught Mrs. Bowers looking at her. She smiled, uncomfortable with the attention. There was something sad about Thad's mom. She hadn't noticed it right away, but spending hours making small, polite talk, the older woman would often watch her as if she was lost in thought.

Lena's chest squeezed. The woman had lost a daughter. Not from sickness or a terrible accident. She'd been kidnapped, raped, and murdered. She knew enough about normal families to realize that Thad's mom lived with the sadness every day, and would for the rest of her life.

That level of deep love and commitment to a child, whether living or dead, was something she had never witnessed or experienced. She doubted if she had the ability to love that deeply because she had never received or given love like that.

She looked down at her phone and her pulse accelerated. There were a ton of returns on the name Alexander Grimaldi.

Lena stopped scrolling and almost laughed out loud. No lawyer would ever be involved with her mom. They didn't socialize within the same circle. Her mom waited tables at restaurants, did book-work for small mom and pop establishments, and even worked at Sears at the mall during Lena's childhood. All entry level jobs.

She looked at a website for the lawyer and found one for Grimaldi, and clicked the link. She had no idea what she was looking for until she found a picture of Mr. Grimaldi.

He had black hair, peppered with gray. His olive skin appeared flawless, except for the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. She stared into brown eyes that smiled back at her from the photo. A lawyer photograph with a bookcase of legal books in the background and the American flag hung to the side, almost out of view. Professional and sharp-dressed in an expensive suit and red tie, Alexander Grimaldi looked serious and powerful. She reached under her hair and ran her finger over the top of her ear. Alexander Grimaldi's ears were close to his head like hers.

"Lena?" said Mrs. Bowers.

She pressed the phone against her stomach, hiding the screen. Her cheeks warmed. She'd been intent on looking at a picture of the man who could've fathered her.

She raised her gaze. "Yes?"

"Thad's home." Mrs. Bowers smiled gently. "He just shut off his motorcycle in the driveway."

She'd been lost in her online search, she hadn't even heard the roar of his Harley drive up to the house. Not an easy thing to ignore.

"Thanks." She stood, not knowing what to do.

That's how Thad caught her. Standing in the middle of the living room, lost, and needing answers. No, maybe she wanted to ignore the answer staring her in the face. She had no room in her life for a father figure. Not Thad's dad or one she'd never met.

Thad approached her, gazing at her intently, and wrapped his arms around her. He palmed the back of her head and held her against his chest. The beating of his heart thrummed in her head. Aware of him talking to his parents, she shut down. It'd taken everything out of her to hang out for the day around people she didn't want to know. She only wanted Thad.

He pulled back and kissed her lips. "I'm home now."

She nodded. And, kept nodding.

Thad held her head in his hands and rubbed his lips against her mouth, peppering kisses against her cheeks, her forehead, her chin. She jerked her head back and looked around for his parents.

"They slipped out." Thad inhaled deeply. "Tonight's the night the Elks have their meeting and Dad has to go."

Out of nowhere, she was aroused. More than hot. Desperate. Panicked. Frantic.

She slipped her arms around his neck and was lifted off the ground. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she dove into the kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, stroking, sucking. She curled her fingers into his hair, holding him close as he carried her, afraid he'd put her down or get a phone call or ask her questions she couldn't even form answers for yet.

Upstairs, Thad hitched her higher on his body and then propelled her through the air. She landed on her back with a soft bounce on the mattress of his bed. He wasted no time and tugged on her jeans. She undid the button and zipper, letting him whip the pants off her. She wiggled out of her shirt and unhooked her bra from the front clasp.

Before she could get her arms out of the straps, Thad was on her, opening a condom.

"My belt, babe." He spit the piece of foil out of his mouth.

She undid the buckle and ripped every button holding his Levi's on with a furious tug that brought out a chuckle from Thad. Slipping her hand between his stomach and the waist of his boxers, she brought out his hard cock, stroking the length and squeezing the width.

He groaned, going up on his knees. She let go and lifted her head to look at him.

Still dressed and wearing his Notus leather jacket, he appeared larger and fiercer tonight. She curled her fingers over the edge of his jacket and tugged him back down, capturing his lips. Her hips rose off the bed, and she shifted her pelvis around until his cock settled between her legs.

"Now," she said, against his mouth. "Do. Me. Hard."

He thrust into her. She moaned as her body screamed with pleasure. Thad withdrew, plunged, and pulled back before she could bounce back from the shock. The roughness, the pressure, the invasion excited her more. She slipped her hands underneath his shirt. He plunged, moving her body with his force. Her nails scratched his back trying to find purchase. He arched on a growl at the sharp pain, and she furiously rubbed his skin.

"No, do it again," he said, the husky timbre of his voice coiled her insides tighter.

She lightly scratched, lifting her hips, taking him deeper inside of her. Her pussy spasmed around him. She needed more. Harder. Faster. Raw.

The emptiness inside of her that came when Thad and her schedules were different was almost unbearable at times. Only with him did she feel complete and content.

She looked up at Thad. "I need you."

He stilled above her. His gaze softened and became possessive. She had never admitted that before because she never needed anyone.

Thad transformed in front of her. His arms, planted on each side of her and braced on the bed, hardened. He reached down, hooked his hand behind her knee, and brought her leg higher, giving him more room.

"I'm going to love you," he said.

She shook her head. "Don't say—"

"Didn't say it. I'm promising you that I am going to love you." He brought his knees up closer to her ass and without taking his gaze off her, he plunged, over and over.

Under his control, her body flailed on the bed like a ragdoll. Every thrust scooted her on the comforter. She raised her arms above her head and braced her hands on the headboard, wanting to feel every inch of him driving into her, pushing her tolerance, branding his body to hers.

Her feet slapped his back under the forceful rhythm he set. His eyelids lowered, and she bit down on her lip, barely containing the moan erupting from her mouth over how sexy he looked.

Aroused.

Hot.

Determined.

She panted, holding her orgasm at bay until what Thad gave her became bigger and stronger than anything she could handle.

Her orgasm exploded inside of her.

She arched, her head pressed into the mattress as her body spiraled, quivered, and rocked with pleasure. "Thad..."

"Yeah." He pounded into her.

Her pussy constricted. "Thad..."

He groaned and plunged deep into her pussy, then held still. Inside of her, his cock pulsed. Sensitive from him fucking her, she shivered, pushed past pleasure to wonderful

Thad lowered his body to his elbows and kissed her, leaving his forehead on hers. "Babe, I—"

She pressed her thumb to his mouth. "I heard you. I just can't...handle anymore today. But, I heard you."

He nodded and rolled off her. Exhausted, she lay naked on the bed. Her legs spread wide. Her arms out to her sides. Her body completely, utterly sated.

Thad came back to the room with his jeans buckled. She rolled to her side, bunching the pillow under her head.

"Tired?" He approached the bed and stumbled to a stop. "Shit."

She sat up with a start. "What's wrong?"

He lowered himself to his knees. "I kicked your phone under the bed. It must've fallen out of your jeans."

She looked around, and her chest warmed. In her hurry and Thad's eagerness to strip her down to naked, there were articles of clothing all over his room.

"Got it." He straightened to his feet and stuck out his arm before pulling the phone back closer to him without handing it over. Thad frowned at the screen, looked at her, and looked back down at the cell. "Jesus Christ," he mumbled.

"What?"

He turned her phone around and said, "Who is this?"

He must've woke up her phone when he kicked it under the bed because the picture on her screen was the last thing she was looking at downstairs when he'd come home. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. She hadn't had time to clear the screen.

"Alexander Grimaldi," she said, crawling off the bed and finding her shirt on the floor.

"Babe?" Thad's voice lowered. "You have his eyes and his smile."

She hugged her clothes to her stomach and sat back on the edge of the mattress. "I know."

She just didn't know what she was going to do with that information.