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her safety, and I know such a thing doesnā€™t exist. Safety is an illusion, a trap, because the moment you believe in it you become vulnerable.

I donā€™t tell her that. She grew up in a family where her welfare was never in question. She sees evil as an anomaly, while Iā€™ve learned the hard way it exists everywhere, but Iā€™m not willing to take that sense of security from her. I prefer to shield her from that reality.

ā€œThis is the protector in me, Fee. There could be an army guarding you and I wouldnā€™t be any different.ā€

She snorts, averting her eyes.

ā€œYou said you could deal,ā€ I remind her gently. ā€œItā€™s who I am, as much as the guy addicted to your pussy is. Iā€™m him too.ā€

An internal struggle is visible on her face, but I simply wait her out until she finally settles on, ā€œOkay.ā€

I press my lips to her forehead.

ā€œIā€™ll get coffee on and let the dog out. You do what you need to in here.ā€

She leans back and looks at me incredulously.

ā€œReally? ā€˜Cause thatā€™s what I was trying to do before youā€”ā€

My mouth swallows the rest of her words in a hard kiss before I reach for the door, grinning.

Van, who was clearly poised right outside, pushes his way into the bathroom, checking to make sure everyone is all right.

ā€œCome on, boy. Letā€™s go.ā€

Van bounds down the stairs in front of me and is already waiting by the back door while I disarm the alarm. Heā€™s a good dog; someone trained him well, although I better never bump into whomever that was because Iā€™ll shoot them on fucking sight. Itā€™s a miracle the animal is as friendly and well-behaved as he is after the start in life heā€™s had.

He seems to have instinctively focused on Sophia and on Ravi to protect. He sits in the back seat and softly whines when we drop Sophia off at work. Then when we get to Pacoā€™s place and he spots Ravi, he takes a flying leap from the Jeep and sticks to the boy like glue.

Thatā€™s been the routine this week; drop Sophia off at work, get to the build and work until about six. Take the dog home, have a shower, and by seven Iā€™m having dinner at the Backyard, either with Sophia in her office if sheā€™s not busy, or at the bar where Mack or Emmeā€”whoever is on that nightā€”keeps me company.

Last Tuesday Paco hauled my tools to the work site and I transferred them to the back of Sophiaā€™s Jeep, where they have remained. Brick is on the lookout for something new for me. Or, as good as new. A truck with a crew cab and a shorter bed, still functional but also safe for transporting people, which I seem to do a lot more of these days. Thereā€™s no rush, for the time being one vehicle is all we need.

By the time I pour my first cup of coffee, Van is wolfing down his food, and I just hear the shower turn off upstairs. Since that first time I made breakfast, Sophia made me promise to let her take care of the cooking. Apparently, I make a mess and I donā€™t need to be told my talents donā€™t extend to the kitchen.

So she cooks and I take care of the dog and the dishes. Quite the domestic picture we paint. To my surprise, Iā€™m more than comfortable with it.

Iā€™m about to check my phone, which is plugged in the charger on the counter beside Sophiaā€™s, when hers starts to ring. The name Blossom appears on the screen. Not one I recognize. As far as I know her sisterā€™s name is Bianca and she has a younger brother, whose name I donā€™t know, but I doubt itā€™s Blossom.

I swipe the screen.

ā€œHello?ā€

Itā€™s silent on the other end until I hear a womanā€™s muffled voice.

ā€œDuff! A man answered her phone!ā€

ā€œWho is this?ā€

ā€œWell, Iā€™ll beā€¦last time our Sophia had a man answer her phone was too long ago. Itā€™s about time. Woohoo!ā€ She lets out some kind of battle cry that has me move the phone a few inches from my ear. ā€œGood voice too. Deep, solid. Iā€™m getting good vibes. Heā€™s got a good voice, Duff!ā€

Enough of the yelling.

ā€œStill havenā€™t told me who Iā€™m talking to,ā€ I prompt gruffly, but that doesnā€™t appear to have any impact on Blossom, or whatever the hell her name is, because she giggles.

ā€œOoh. Forceful. I like. Itā€™s Blossom and Sophia is the fruit of my loins,ā€ she clarifies. ā€œThirty-seven hours of killer labor but what a prize she was. She had a set of lungs on her, though, yelled theā€”ā€

ā€œUh, Blossom?ā€ I quickly interrupt, afraid Iā€™m going to get a detailed description of Sophiaā€™s formative years. ā€œLet me get her for you.ā€

Iā€™m already heading to the stairs when she appears at the top.

ā€œAre you kidding? Iā€™d rather talk to you for a bit first,ā€ Blossom announces, as I watch Sophiaā€™s eyebrows lift questioningly. ā€œWhatā€™s your name? What do you do? I bet youā€™re large. You sound large. Duff! Sounds like our Soph snagged herself a big guy!ā€

I lift the phone up at Sophia, who is halfway down the stairs, her eyes growing big when she hears her motherā€™s voice. She runs the rest of the way and snatches the phone from my hand. Not that it makes a difference, she could put the phone on the coffee table and you could still hear Blossom through the entire house. No need to put it on speakerphone.

Leaving Sophia to deal with her mother, I grab my coffee and head outside, sitting on the steps of the deck. Van, who was sniffing around a tree in the back, spots me and comes to keep me company.

Wow.

That may well go down as the weirdest telephone conversation Iā€™ve ever had. Her mother is really out there. Blossom and Duff, definitely not what Iā€™d expected for Sophiaā€™s parents. Weird, and clearly without boundaries, but loving all the same.

Ten minutes

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