I gasped, raising my palm to my face, as if that could stop my skin from stinging. As if it could protect me from another strike.

“You fucking bitch. You’ve always been so fucking ungrateful.” He lifted his hand again, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the next one.

It never came.

“Don’t you fucking lay a hand on her!”

At the sound of JC’s voice, my eyes flew open. He must have come in the unlatched door. Now he was behind my father and gripping his forearms, pulling him away from me. They were similar in height, but where JC was fit and trim, my father was bulky and buff. It wasn’t a fair fight. My father could crush him.

“What the—?” Dad was as surprised as I was to find we had a guest. “Get your hands off me,” he said, shrugging out of JC’s grasp.

JC rushed to me. “Gwen, are you all right?”

“I think so.” Now that you’re here, yes.

He wrapped an arm around me but didn’t pull me too close, tilting my chin up to examine my face. I could tell by the way he cringed that I was already bruising.

“Jesus, did he do that?” JC’s eyes grew dark and hard even before I nodded. He turned back to my father, his arm pulled back to punch.

That’s when I saw the knife.

“No!” I grabbed JC’s arm, stopping him before he hit. “He has a knife.”

He followed my glance to see the knife in my father’s hand. It was a rusty old pocketknife. Something he’d probably bought on the street. I doubted he was allowed to have weapons in his house. It would just be another thing I’d report to the police later.

JC stepped forward, blocking me. Protecting me. “What do you want from her?” I clutched onto the back of his shirt, and he wrapped an arm behind him to pull me in closer. It made me feel exactly the way I’d always thought a parent should make you feel—the way my father never made me feel. Warm, fiercely guarded, defiantly loved.

The man who’d donated his DNA to my existence looked past JC, his eyes landing directly on mine. “Gwen knows what I want.”

My gaze flicked down to the knife and back to my father’s face. JC tensed further under my hands, and I knew he’d fight for me. I couldn’t let him do it. He was smaller and unarmed. There’s no way he’d win, and the thought of him getting hurt…

My throat tightened.

“I’ll get it,” I said, lying through my teeth. “I’ll get the money for you. Just go.”

Dad didn’t even look at JC, as though his presence didn’t faze him in the least. “You see that you do. I’ll be back on Thursday. Same time.” He took a couple of steps backward then added, “You know I trust you, Gwen baby. Don’t let your father down.”

With a final nod, he went out the door.

JC followed to shut it after him, making sure it latched properly this time. I, on the other hand, ran to the sink, where I proceeded to dry heave.

***

JC got me a Sprite from the bar and had me sit on the worktable and drink it to try to calm my stomach. He took care of Paco, signing the paperwork that said the floor work was complete, and made sure the door was shut and locked after he left.

I watched him do my job, wondering if he thought I was helpless or if he was just being nice. I wasn’t helpless. I’d picked myself up after many attacks. This, though. This sweet attentiveness and concern—it was nice.

When JC disappeared back into the main part of the club, I called Norma.

“Are you alone now?” my sister asked after I’d told her everything.

“No. JC’s still with me.”

“Perfect. If you don’t stay with him, make sure he takes you home. Our apartment is secured, so you’d be safe there. I’ll talk to some people and see what our best options are from here. We’ll have to talk to the cops later, though. Are you good for now?”

I hadn’t cried, but now I felt like I might. “Mm-hmm,” I said, holding back the sob. “Thank you, sissy.”

JC returned as I clicked END. “I turned off all the lights and locked up the office.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He nodded once in return. Then, taking a towel from the rack of dish linens by the sink, he asked, “Are you sure we shouldn’t have called the police?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Memories of red and blue lights arriving at our house flashed through my mind. The rare occasions that the neighbors cared enough to call them because of sounds of domestic distress. Each time they were there to rescue us. Each time Dad made his excuses—scared us into making excuses—and they left us to be hit again.

I took another sip of my Sprite and explained. “I’ve never had a good experience with police. I’d prefer to let Norma handle all of it. There are security cameras in this room. I’ll give her the tape, she can take it to whoever. She’ll make sure we do this right so he gets put back behind bars.”

I was still worried. My father had always been violent, but he wasn’t an idiot. He had to know I could report him. Did he think I was still so under his thumb that I wouldn’t?

“I don’t like this,” JC said, dropping a handful of ice from the bin into the towel.

“I know. Thank you for doing it my way.” From the look he gave me, I wasn’t so sure he planned on continuing doing things my way. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find he’d already called them while he was getting my drink.

But then, as he wrapped the towel up to keep the ice from spilling, he sighed. “I’ve been let down by the law before too. I understand doing things your own way.”

I pressed the somewhat cold drink to my aching cheek and stared at him, more grateful than ever for his presence, and only a little bit distracted by the realization that the last time I’d sat on this table, I’d had his cock inside me.

He walked over to me then and took the drink out of my hand. He set it on the table next to me and gently pressed the ice pack against my cheekbone. “This should work better.”

I hissed at the sting. He winced with me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “It will get better as it numbs.” I spoke from experience, but I bit my tongue before saying anything else on the matter, conscious of how much personal information I shared.

We were quiet for a few minutes, JC dabbing at my face while I tried not to wince. Then I realized, “Oh my God, I didn’t even say thank you! I would probably look even worse right now if you hadn’t come along when you did.”