Back to her.

Broken or healed, the beating stump in my chest would always point me back to her.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

I had always and would always belong to the little girl across the street.

And I was done pretending otherwise.

Now, all I had to do was make her believe me…

"You heading to Reebo's with us, D?" Bear asked, dragging me from my tumultuous thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, attention flicking to the guys.

"Reebo's," he repeated, brows furrowing. "You coming?"

"Hell yes he's coming," Mason answered for me, squeezing my shoulders. "We played one hell of a game tonight. Celebratory drinks are in order."

"I'll pass."

"You'll pass?" Mase gaped at me like I had just grown three heads in front of him. "The fuck are you talking about, King?"

Shouldering my bag, I moved for the exit. "I'm not feeling it."

"Then what are you feeling?" Waggling his brows, he added, "Or should I say who?"

"I'll tell you what you're gonna be feeling, Mase," Rourke interjected, joining me in the doorway, and having my back like always. "My fist down your goddamn throat if you don't let it go."

"You're not coming either, Owens?" Reebo asked.

"Nah, man," Rourke replied, yanking open the locker room door. "I have plans."

"Plans," Mase chuckled. "Hell, I don't even blame you. If I had a sister that looked like yours on tap at home, I'd be –"

"Step," Bear interjected with a sigh. "Step sister."

"You'd be what?" Rourke pressed, and there was a menacing lilt to his tone. "Choose your words carefully, fucker."

"Tapping that ass."

I shook my head in resignation.

Bear and Reebo both sighed in unison. "You just had to go there."

"Look, all I'm saying is that if Mercy James was under my roof, I'd be taking full advantage of the situation," Mason finished with a shrug. "That's all."

It was no secret that Rourke was the hot-headed member of our crew. His temper was infamous both on the field and off it, therefore it came as no surprise to a single person in the locker room when he lunged for our dumbass friend.

"Here we go again," Reebo said with a weary sigh.

10 Molly

It was a little after eleven that night when the rustling outside of my window started up. At first, it sounded like tiny pebbles crashing against the window pane before eventually progressing into creaking branches and distinctive male grunting.

Pausing the movie that I was watching on Netflix, I sat straight up in bed and set the tub of Ben & Jerry's I'd been attempting to demolish on my nightstand.

"Dad?" I whisper-hissed and then held perfectly still, ears straining for a response.

When it came in the form of a muttered "who the hell keeps their window closed in this humidity," I threw the covers off my body and jumped out of bed.

Heart bucking violently in my chest, and with only the remote control for my TV as a weapon, I padded over to the window and drew back the curtains. "What the hell are you doing?"