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A grunt tumbled from his mouth and he ran his hand over his head quickly. “Fuck, woman. You better get going ’cause you got nine minutes left.”

After giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she flew out of the car and opened the garage door with her remote. A breath of relief escaped her as she looked at the empty spot where her dad’s car should be. Only Shanna’s was there.

She strode over to the door leading into the house and turned the knob slowly; it swung open and she went inside. Cautiously approaching the hallway, she glanced all around but no one was there.Shanna probably went with Dad.

As she walked up the circular staircase, she heard muffled sounds coming from the master bedroom. She froze on the stairs and strained her ears. Nothing audible, just garbled sounds. She slipped off her shoes and went up the rest of the stairs, pausing in the hallway. The sounds were louder and more discernible: grunts and moans in varying octaves. She padded over to the master bedroom and noticed the door was ajar.

Sucking in her breath, she went to the door and peeked in. Her eyes widened when she saw Shanna on her knees, her butt high in the air, and a fit man with long black hair and tattoos all over his back, arms, and shins pounding into her.Oh shit. Shanna’s screwing around on Dad.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something black. Moving her gaze from the bed to the vanity chair, she saw a leather jacket with a bright patch of a devil holding what looked like flaming pistons. She noticed the name “Satan’s Pistons” over the top of the devil, and on the bottom it read “Arizona.”Fuck! I can’t let Diablo come in here.Backing away quietly, she glanced at her phone: seven minutes to go.

She hurried to her room and closed the door, sending a quick text to Diablo telling him everything’s cool and her dad wasn’t home. She’d be out real soon. Grabbing the duffel bag from her closet, she went into her bathroom and threw things inside it. Her heart sank when she looked at her bookcase. She’d never be able to take all the books with her without having Diablo help her, and she couldn’t do that. Throwing just a few of her favorite books into the bag, she went to her closet and groaned. The majority of her clothes were shapeless, oversized tops and baggy pants, the predominate colors beige, tan, and white. She folded a few T-shirts and jeans and decided to leave the rest. A large part of her craved a new wardrobe with color and some style.I’ll ask Raven to go shopping with me.She smiled. Going shopping with a friend was totally new to her.

Glancing around the room, she spotted her extra bottle of the lemon body spray she’d bought with Sylvia a few weeks before. She scooped it up and threw it in a plastic bag. Before she left, she looked around, her gaze landing on an antique lamp with hand-painted flowers on the milky-white glass shade. Her mother had bought it at a flea market when Fallon had been six years old. She still remembered the day her mother had brought it home, gushing about how old it was and how she loved it. It was the one thing her father had allowed her to keep from her mother. When she’d run away, he’d been so angry and upset, he’d thrown everything away that had belonged to her. Even photographs weren’t safe.

That’s right. The photos I hid under the loose floorboard in my closet.

Fallon had been desperate to save as many photographs of her mother as possible, so she’d gone up to the attic where boxes of pictures had been stored before she’d even been born. She knew her dad had been planning to throw them away when he got home from work, so she took as many as she could without even looking at them and ran down to her room. She’d worked hard prying up the floorboards in the closet, but she finally loosened them and stashed all the pictures there. The only one she kept was of her sitting on her mom’s lap with her mom’s arms wrapped around her. Fallon figured she must’ve been about seven years old in that photo. She’d kept it in a slit she’d made in her mattress. Her dad never found it. She’d look at it often.

With duffel bag, photographs, and Victorian lamp in hand, she left her room and headed for the stairs. A man’s voice floated into the hallway. “Bloody Knuckles don’t know how to fuck you. Each time we hook up, you’re so fuckin’ hungry for my cock. Was it the money you wanted?” The sweet scent of weed filtered out of the room.

“You got the cock but he’s got the bucks. I got myself covered. Let’s go for another round before he gets home. You want me riding that big thick dick of yours?” Shanna’s giggles repulsed Fallon.

Standing at the top of the stairs, she waited until they got things rolling again before she gripped the bannister and went down the stairs. As she came out of the garage, she bumped into Diablo. “What are you doing here?” Her muscles tensed.

“Going to get you. Fuck, it’s been more than twenty minutes. I was worried.”

Handing him her mother’s lamp, she walked to the car. “I forgot about some photographs I wanted to bring with me. Let’s go. I don’t want to bump into my dad.”

It wasn’t until they had put some distance between her house and them that she relaxed. For the first fifteen minutes, she acted like she’d hadn’t noticed that Diablo kept looking at her. She uncrossed her arms and leaned back in the seat, watching the landscape slip by.

“What the fuck happened back there? You’re as wound up as a goddamn top.”

She pulled at a piece of dry skin on her lips, then took out a cherry-flavored balm and spread it on. “It was just weird being at home.”

“Bullshit. Don’t shut me out, Fallon.”

Turning to face him, she breathed out. “Okay, but I don’t want you freaking out or turning back around. Deal?”

“Just fuckin’ tell me. I’m not making any damn deal.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she rubbed her palms against her jean-clad thighs. “I saw Shanna fucking another guy.”

“That’s it? I knew she was a slut the first time I met her. You feeling bad for your dad?”

“No. Yes… a little. Anyway, that’s not what made me freak. The guy she was with belongs to a motorcycle club. I saw his leather jacket. It said Satan something and the bottom said ‘Arizona.’”

“Fuck!” Diablo slammed his hand against the steering wheel, then pulled over. “We’re going back so I can beat the fucker’s ass. You shoula told me when you got in the car.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. We’re not turning around. I don’t want you and this loser punching it out. I don’t want you getting in trouble with the law.”

“If I’m not in trouble with the goddamn law then something would be fuckin’ wrong in my life.”

“I’m not joking. I’m serious. I don’t want to lose you. Let’s just go back to Alina.”

He stared at her for a long while but she held her own, and he finally turned the ignition and pulled the car back onto the highway. They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride back, but when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he grasped it and intertwined her fingers with his. She smiled inwardly; she hadn’t backed down.

Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it, then rested her head against his shoulder. He was her strength, but she now realized she was his as well. A sense of ease shrouded her, and she knew she no longer needed to pretend to be living a different life. Her life had good feelings in it now and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“We’ll get you some furniture. You good?” Diablo said as he turned off the exit for downtown Alina.

Giving him an easy nod, she squeezed his hand. “I’m good. Very good.”