Page 89 of Thornhill Road

I only had to give him a look and we were out the door.

Fortunately, the parking lot was empty, so I didn’t accidentally flash anyone as I situated myself on the back of the Road King.

I pressed myself tight against Mustang, and we took off—speeding down the road, headed nowhere.

My favorite destination.

I wasn’t sure how long we rode before we slowed down along the familiar street to his house. Then he pulled into the garage, shut the door, and made good on his earlier promise.

With me propped on the seat of his Harley, he fucked me in my dress and heels.

Unbelievably turned on, we both came hard and fast.

It wasout of this world.

Then he carried me inside and striped me naked.

After kissing every inch of me—branding me as his for the second time that night—we made love.

Like always, my man had seen to my needs.

So, when I finally closed my eyes to sleep, Lance was the furthest thing from my mind.

Four Days Later

I’d been assigned anew patient, and our initial appointment ran long. I was late as I turned onto Thornhill Road, but I needed ten minutes. Ed was my last stop before the end of my double, but I didn’t want him tofeellike he was my last stop, so I was going to squeeze in a quick nap.

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes of sleep was going to carry me through.

It was all I needed.

Just ten minutes.

Except, when I parked my car in his driveway and leaned my head back against the seat, I closed my eyes and saw Mustang. It felt like every spare moment I had he was popping into my head. I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, and I missed him.

I considered the fury I’d seen marring his pretty eyes when I woke up Sunday morning with bruises on my neck, and I had to admit, I didn’t think it altogether bad we’d been apart long enough for the reminder of Saturday night to fade a little. I hardly had to apply any concealer while I was freshening up between the end of my last shift and the start of this one.

But it wasn’t just my longing for him that prevented me from indulging in a quick nap.

It had been a month since the first time I laid eyes on him.

Not at Steel Mustang, but in a black and white newspaper clipping in a frame beside Ed’s sickbed.

In a matter of weeks, Mustang had gone from being the subject of an old article to the man I loved, and I’d not breathed a word about him to Ed.

Ed was running out of time. I couldn’t say for sure how much longer he had, but I would guess less than a person with the same condition surrounded by loved ones—people to hold onto until the very end. I was beginning to feel truly guilty about the fact that I had access to the son he hadn’t spoken to in years; a man he kept close to his side in the only way he could; a stranger who had no intension of darkening his door.

Ed was going to die alone, with no one to hold onto, and it made me sad.

I still hadn’t finished piecing together the full picture that was Mustang and Ed. I only had one side of the story, but it was enough to know Ed wasn’t blameless. His medical history was further proof. Only, I wasn’t sure if the remaining puzzle pieces would truly fill in all the gaps. I didn’t know the version of Ed Mustang remembered. To me, Ed wasn’t an abusive alcoholic. He was a sick, frail man with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen.

I remembered what Jenna told me back at the start of all of this. Maybe the best comfort I could offer him was theknowledge that his son had turned out okay.Betterthan okay. And maybe it was my job to tell him before it was too late.

My phone alerted me to my ten-minute timer, and I sighed as I silenced it.

I was late.

---