When Monica finished changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she came out of her room and raced back down the stairs only to have her dad meet her in the center of it.

"We need to talk," her dad exclaimed, giving her a stern look.

He pointed back behind her to show that he wanted her to back up and that he wouldn't let her pass. He knew she was eager to get back downstairs to Deacon, and he refused to let her by.

"What is it?"

"There's something you need to know about that guy," he said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper.

"You mean that guy named Deacon who helped me escape a dangerous storm?" she asked.

"Yes, that one. Where did you find him?"

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "In case you've forgotten, he found me. On the side the road. With a broken down car. With the storm coming."

Her dad looked behind him, as if checking to see if Deacon was in earshot. Monica couldn't even see the guy from her position on the top level of the 4,000 plus square foot mansion.

"What are you worried about? He brought me home. Obviously he doesn't intend to harm me."

"Did you know he was a shifter?"

Monica shook her head, confused. "What?"

"The guy who gave you a ride home. He's a shifter."

"How do you know?"

This time, her dad matched her composure, folding his arms across his chest and staring blankly at her. "I'm a doctor, Monica. I've had the privilege of treating both types of patients. He has shifter written all over him. He doesn't even hide it. He wears the same tattoos of some of the other shifters running around town. And then he took his wallet out to air dry and flipped it right open. I saw the emblem on his driver's license and asked if he was a shifter and he flat out said yes."

She swallowed. "And so what? He's a shifter. So?"

"I'm just making you aware is all. Few people can tell the difference."

She sighed. "Of course, Dad, because we're all people." And she'd been too busy checking out his body to notice.

"Okay, you're right. I have no right to judge him based on that, but I saw the way he looked at you down there.” He threw his arm up toward the foyer.

Monica shrugged. "We were all looking at each other. I thought that's what people do when they meet for the first time."

Her dad rolled his eyes. "Not like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you'll excuse me, I need to go thank him for getting me home. I bet you didn't even offer him drink or anything."

She moved past him and tried to rush down the stairs again, only to pause again when her Dad spoke the name of a man she was trying to avoid.

"I'm making sure that neither you or he gets any ideas. I know you parted ways with Evan over a minor disagreement but don't do anything foolish right away. You and I both know that Evan's having a rough time after finding out that he failed the bar exam. This is just a little bump in the road in your relationship. Don't make drastic decisions before you two can work things out again."

She turned back around. "You're getting way ahead of yourself, Dad. Plus, do you know how many chances I've given Evan? His mood swings are all over the place and I just can't deal with the stress it brings me. He’s been unstable for a while now."

"You need to at least talk to him and—"

"No. I broke it off with him months ago. I don't know why you're bringing this up now."

"You brought a guy home." Her dad shrugged. "My first impression was that you were dating again."

"Newsflash…just because I bring a guy home doesn't mean I'm dating him."

Her dad shook his head. "Either way, your guy…Deacon, David…Dory Remy whatever…seems to be just as unstable as you believe Evan to be. And I'm not talking mentally. He seems…un-groomed and like maybe he's a little out of your league."

"Oh my God. Conversation over." Monica threw up her hands. "I'll talk to you when you've had some rest."

Her dad grunted and watched as she rounded the spiral staircase to meet Deacon back downstairs, but when she reached the ground level of the home, it was quiet and empty like no one was there.

"Deacon?" she called out. "Are you dressed?"

Nobody responded.

The front door was closed but the lock was in the vertical position, showing that it was unlocked. She had this strong inclination to look out the window because her first guess was that he had left.

After looking through the blinds and finding that his motorcycle was nowhere in sight and Deacon was nowhere to be seen, her heart sank.

Deacon had left. He'd probably felt her dad's indifference to him being who he was and left. Although the brunt of the storm still hadn't hit this area yet, the rain poured heavily and the wind thrashed the trees violently outside. She feared for his safety. She didn't care what he was. He deserved better hospitality than what he'd gotten here tonight.

All she had was a name and there wasn't any promise that she'd ever see him again.