Adonis is relaxed and calm even though I know he can see the horror and chaos in my wide shelled shock eyes. He repositions himself so he's sitting with his arm resting on his knee while the other lays on the dirty garage floor. He stares at me and I stare back.

"Forget everything you just saw."

Cocking his head and examining me, he shakes his head. "Can't do that, especially since I now know I stumbled upon that big secret of yours."

I stop breathing. It's quiet for a while between us with me staring at the floor trying to remember how to breathe and him calmly staring at me. Frustration replaces my shock and I snap. "Why aren't you freaking out? Every person who's ever seen..." I pause and stare at him. "They've been afraid of me."

His eyes search my face. His hand reaches up and slides some of my hair out of my face and stays planted at the crook of my neck as he pulls me forward until our heads almost touch. "Not much scares me, Tater Tot. Especially a little Goldilocks."

He glances back at my mural and I watch him examine it. "That's your kitchen wallpaper." I nod, but he doesn't notice and continues. "Those shredded pieces of wallpaper and how they glint... it's like I'm watching it fall."

Holding up my hand, I examine the many different paint colors sticking to the latex that barely shows its original blue color. "I've always been a mix of realism and impressionism when it comes to my style."

"How do you manage this with just your hands?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

I laugh. "I've actually never picked up a brush, believe it or not." My hands breathe as I peel off the latex. "Crazy, huh?! A painter who's never used brushes. For me it doesn't feel right. I need connection and to feel what I'm painting. I hate that extension. In that small amount of space between me and the canvas there's a disconnect. I can't exactly remember, but I've always used my fingers and I have no idea how it started, just that I always have."

He gets up and takes big steps toward it. "What did I just witness exactly? I watched you for a long time."

The night's air is cooler than earlier and I realize it's probably more towards the very early morning now. "An episode."

"Does it happen often?"

Taking a deep breath, I sigh out. "More often lately."

"Do you know why?"

I shake my head and swallow. "No, my mom never told me and I'm pretty sure she doesn't really know either." I sigh looking towards the floor then up at him. "I have no idea what's wrong with me. Only that something is."

He doesn't stop looking down at me with those all-knowing eyes. "Is that why you're here?"

I shrug. "Partially."

He nods and finally tears his gaze away from me. "It actually looks like someone put wallpaper on. You even have the line where new wallpaper starts. The detail is unbelievable."

"Yeah," I whisper back. "Did my dad come out at all?"

Adonis crouches back down staring straight at me. "No. If he finds out I've been with you this whole time he'd be pretty pissed too."

"Why?" I ask.

A smirk crunches up the right side of his face making that silvered, dented and bumpy scar glint from the dim light. "We may be military brothers and in the same club, but he knows me pretty well."

"Is that a warning for me to stay away or something?"

"Or something." He sits back down next to me, stretching his long limbs out. His hand drops and the arm on his knee bends as his fingers scratch at his well tamed beard as if he's thinking. "You being here is huge for them. It's like you came back from the dead. Any idea of finding you had died in their minds years ago." He looks at me again and it scares me how purposeful he always is with his eye contact. "All thoughts of you had died. What you've given TreeTrunk and Ace today is something I would've done anything for."

Hearing the message behind it I ask, "Who'd you lose?"

His eyes remain the same. "My sister."

"What happened to her?"

Not once does he falter with his eye contact, unlike me with my constant need to look at everything but the person I'm talking to.

"She was murdered."

Those words quiet everything and my eyes widen. My face melts in a way he has probably seen one too many times. "I'm so sorry."

"You can ask," he says, looking at me with a raised brow in challenge.

He catches me off guard and I make it obvious by how I jerk back. After a few ticking moments I ask, "How?"

"Someone drowned her. She was only twelve."

Turning away I try to figure out what to say until my eyes land on my painting. "Is that why you want to save her?"

"Yeah," he answers calmly. "It makes me angry."

"Because you can't?" Looking back at him, I touch his cut and straighten it for him. "You seem calm though."

He takes my hand and before I can roll my eyes for the whole no touching the cut, he places my palm on his fast beating heart that feels like it's about to explode. "You aren't the only one keeping things. Hiding another side to you."

My eyes search him. "You may be the first person to understand, to not be afraid."

He gives a dark chuckle. "Oh, Tater Tot. If only you knew how much I should scare you."

My eyes land on the little finger. "I could say the same."

His deep bone chilling chuckle continues. "I've done a lot of bad things. Broken bones with my bare hands and pulled a trigger multiple times that ended someone's life. From the day I was born my momma called me a devilish child. I brought you here as a favor to your dad but take my momma's advice..." He stops and stares right at me with a dark smile. "Don't tangle with the devil. He only brings you trouble."

Ignoring those wise words, my fingers touch that brotherhood cross patch that's so crisp.

Without missing a beat my fingers go from that to his scar. It's hard with a silicone rubbery feeling. He's unmoving and breathing evenly, letting me touch such a fragile and raw part of him.

"Then why do I feel like I can share all my secrets with you?" I whisper.

He takes my hand away and his fingers are calloused, warm and rough. Hard working hands. He puts my fingers right in front of his mouth and his beard tickles them. "It was nice meeting you, Tater Tot. I'll see you around every once in a while."

His warmth whips away as he stands, leaving me cold and alone. Those heavy footsteps echo hauntingly and something about the distance coming between us plucks at my bones like a woodpecker beating a tree.

I'm up on my feet and calling out to him, "Adonis."

He turns slightly. His whole big body is covered in shadows but the dim light bulb catches the glow of the eagle patch on his back and certain bold features on the perfect half of his face. "Not all scars are visible, just like not all monsters."

I can't read his expression and only hear his gravely accent lace itself with gentleness. "You're no monster Goldilocks. Not even a little bit."

He slides in his car and soon the sound of his engine explodes into the quiet night and then he's speeding off out of sight. My heart is in my ears as I turn to my painting. I hold my hand up and turn it so my palm faces me. Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I ask them, "Why do you do this to me?"

Clearly Adonis doesn't completely understand exactly the darkness swirling inside me. How I quickly lose control of myself and have a psychotic break. Because let's be honest that's what it is.

Or maybe it's me who doesn't understand.

I trudge my way into the house and hear the television in the other room. When dad sees me coming in he quickly stands up and moves to the other side of the leather couch. As I drop into the worn but sturdy seat dad watches me closely.

"So those still happen?"

I still at his question. "You know about them? Does Amber"

He nods with his eyes narrowing. "Amber doesn't. Only you, your mom and me. I thought for sure your momma would've banned painting."

"She tired," I reply. "One thing she learned pretty quickly is that she can't stop it. When they happen, I find anything I can create the image with. Once I used flour and that was a massacre."

I laugh at the memory.

"I'm glad she caved then. I don't know much about art or what you do, but I know what you can do is special."

I want to cry at those words but I combat the tears. "They come at a cost."

Dad eyes me then shakes my curls around the top on my head in a playful manner. "You'll be okay."

I wish I could believe that. I want to believe it, but he has no idea how bad they are. I decide to try to watch the football game on the television.

"I thought maybe you were going to hightail it out of here."

"No, I'm here to stay if you'll have me. You know, until I can afford my own place."

Dad sucks in an unsteady breath. "I wish I had you for the past fourteen years."

I scoot over and lay my head on his big shoulder. "Dad, I came here to learn the truth. Whatever you and mom are hiding... I want to find out what it is."

He's silent as he wraps his arm around me and I've never felt safer than in this moment. I'm in my dad's protective hold and nothing can get to me. "Is that tiny bag the only stuff you have?"

The football game playing on the television draws my attention but I'm able to absently answer. "Yeah."

He kisses my head. "We'll get you some things tomorrow. Anyway, can I get you to tell me what's going on and where your momma's at?"

The ref blows the whistle and I watch the teams take a time out. "I came here and mom is married and off enjoying her life. There's not much to know, just that we went our separate ways."

Lie. Big lie.

I bite down on my lip hard to stop myself from saying my thoughts out loud. I can't tell him the truth. Partially because I don't know the whole truth and secondly I have a feeling it would cause world war three.

We sit there for a while watching the game and my eyes start getting heavy but before sleep takes over dad speaks up. "There's only one rule around here, Georgie."

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

Great, rules. I suck at keeping them.

"Well you have to keep this one. Stay out of club business. You don't need the added chaos of that lifestyle."

"Are you bad guys?" I ask, raising a brow at him.

"No," he replies. "We're clean. I joined not too long after your momma whisked you off. I ran into Arch at a Group Therapy for vets struggling with PTSD. Arch is the founder of the club and it's grown with sister chapters all over. We're the mother chapter and it's a club strictly for vets. We provide security and have opened up mechanic shops and other businesses. All to help struggling vets find their place back at home. We help them get jobs and join a brotherhood."

"Wow, that's amazing." I can't stop myself from asking, "Did you struggle with PTSD?"

Dad stiffens and goes stone cold. "I think that's enough for tonight. You need some sleep."

Knowing I wasn't going to get anything else out of him and more so that I was bone tired I concede. "Where should I sleep. The couch?"

He gives me an angry look. "Of course not. Your bed is still up in your old room that you and Amber shared."

"Oh," I state and get up, heading towards the stairs.

"Georgie." I turn to dad. "I know I said one rule but there's one other one."

"Um, okay."

He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Be careful around Adonis."

I drop a step. "Why? You don't trust him?"

Dad's eyes narrow. "I trust him with my life and I'll be forever grateful to him bringing you home, but..." He exhales a deep sigh. "He's our enforcer which means he's the guy who takes care of difficult things for us, which makes him a target."

"Why are you saying this?" I ask.

"I saw him talking with you." His hands go deeper into his pockets. "I would go to war with Adonis and never doubt him for a second, but when it comes to normal life... he doesn't know how to navigate yet. He's been through hell when he served and he's gotten better but he has a dark side to him that's unpredictable."

Examining dad, I get offended for Adonis, but Adonis told me earlier this would happen. "He's been nothing but kind."

"Because you're my daughter and in this club we do everything we can for our family because we are family. But you are an association of the club. Those men will die for you, but they're unstable, especially him. And please understand, he's not some college guy. He's a man who's ten years older than you, one who struggles with PTSD and is dangerous because of it. We also don't know a lot about his past. He doesn't say much about it just that his sister was killed."

Not wanting to argue but unable to lie I say, "Sure dad. I'll do my best."

We part ways and I head up to my room with my bag of essentials. Once I'm done getting ready I plop onto the bed as it creaks. It's weird how one side of the room is alive with old things of Amber's hanging on the walls and then there's mine. Bare. Similar to me.

This hasn't gone how I thought it would. It's been messy and explosive, like a bomb has gone off. Adonis witnessed me having an episode. Dad knows about them. My mom not only abandoned me but Amber way before. There are so many secrets I don't even know where to start.

Rolling over I snag my orange bottle of pills. I struggle with insomnia, always have. My sleeping pills get me through the nights... sometimes. Popping them in I swallow and roll to my side.

I'm not distancing myself from Adonis. I can't. He knows too much and I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone. In fact, I'm finding out where the mechanic shop is and trucking my butt there. I close my eyes and wait for sleep to take over. The wind creaks and my mind starts to drift away. The only thought running in my tired mind is.

Why don't you remember me?