“See that story about the Senator?” he asks when we’re finished discussing club stuff. Secure lines or not he won’t get more detailed than that.

“Crazy shit, right?”

He laughs into the phone. “Crazier than you think. Two different political activist groups took credit for the bombing. Getting the corruption out of government is apparently trendy.”

Holy shit. I didn’t see that coming. “That’s interesting.” At least that will keep the investigators busy looking in the wrong direction for a while.

“Yeah, Hope said legally it’s brilliant. If either group ever goes to trial, instant reasonable doubt.”

Which I suppose also means if I ever go to trial for it, I’ll have a defense. Not that I’d use it. I have no problem with what I did. I can’t imagine any man or woman who cares about someone sending me to prison.

Nothing but the car bombing and the death of poor, crooked, and disgraced Senator Kelly has been on the news for the last twenty-four hours.

If only the world knew the full truth about what a piece of shit he was.

Luckily, we don’t watch the news all that much in the house. Lilly’s sort of strict about screen time for Chance. The times when the television is on, it’s usually tuned to something kid-appropriate.

After Chance goes to bed, I finally have a moment to ask her about her day.

“Nothing exciting, what with me being confined to the house and all.”

I suffer some guilt over that. How exactly can I explain she doesn’t have to worry anymore? I kinda figured I wouldn’t have to, that Mara would call Lilly to tell her the good news.

“Come here.”

I pull her to me so she’s straddling my lap and run my hands over her ass. I’m about to suggest Lilly come ride my cock in the hot tub when her phone pings.

She reaches over to grab it and slides out of my lap.

I use the time to check my own messages.

She gasps, pulling my attention to her.

“What?”

“Is this…was this…you?” She turns the phone my way and there’s a full-screen article about the bombing. Compete with photos of the charred and still-smoking Mercedes.

I shift from laid-back-at-home dad to cold, lethal biker, give her a blank stare and shrug.

“Z?” she demands.

“Could have been anyone. Two separate groups claimed responsibility.”

“But, Z—”

I launch myself at her, pushing her back against the couch cushions and press my finger to her lips. “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer, Lilly. Don’t force me to lie to you.”

“Z.” She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down so she can whisper in my ear. “I can’t have anything happen to you. I can’t lose you.”