Rourke chuckled. "Pretty sure Six hates me more than she likes me most days."

"And you keep her how?"

"I wake her up each morning by helicoptering my dick on her face," he shot back. "My baby loves her some red meat for breakfast."

I shook my head. "You are truly disturbed."

He smirked. "Duly noted."

"Rourke," I began, deciding that I needed to speak to someone. Needed to get some of this goddamn pressure off my chest. "Remember that summer when we were kids?"

"You're gonna have to be a bit more specific," he replied. "You're in all of my summers, man."

"Remember the summer I got this scar on my hip?" I blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed the hell out of my hair. "The summer I lost my mind? Remember that summer?"

He stopped shampooing his hair and turned to look at me. "I remember."

I didn't say anything after that, knowing it was only a matter of time before his overly-intelligent brain put the pieces together.

"Molly would have burned to death in that house fire if someone hadn't broken a window and pulled her out," he stated to himself, brain shifting into overdrive. "Was that someone you, Daryl?"

I felt the ground shift beneath me.

A cold sweat broke out across my body.

I didn't have the words to respond so I answered him with a stiff nod.

"Jesus Christ, D, you ran into a burning house when you were nine?"

"She was nine." Shutting off the water, I draped a towel around my waist and headed back to my locker. "I was ten."

"You were still a kid who ran into a burning fucking building," he countered, quickly mirroring my actions and following after me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Because then I would have had to tell you everything else and I couldn't do that.

"Didn't think you'd care."

"Care?" He gaped at me as we quickly dressed. "Of course I would have cared, asshole – wait!" His eyes widened. "Were you in the house when it started? Do you know how it happened?"

Yes. "No clue."

"Well, hell," he blew out a breath. "Now, I get it."

"Get what?"

"This infatuation with Molly. Your strange connection with her." He stared at me like he was looking at a stranger. "You really love that girl, don't you?"

More than life.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore. She's just about done with my bullshit."

"I don't know about that," he mused, walking back to his own locker just as the rest of the team spilled into the room. "Any guy who runs into a burning house to get his girl out deserves a second chance in my books."

"Not according to her father," I reminded him.

"Fuck fathers," Rourke called over his shoulder. "Fuck them to hell, bro."

"You'll ruin her."

"Walk away."

"Let her go."

Despite her father's warnings, his demands and pleas, I knew where I was going the minute I left this locker room.