I stood behind him, ready to attack if he so much as thought to run or hurt Fran.
The fucker began to cry. “I’m so sorry. Please, I don’t want to die.”
I watched my daughter in quiet fascination. Her blond hair was soaking wet. Mud covered her clothes. She studied the man, deciding what to say or do. Then she kicked him in the stomach. Not once but three times.
He cried out in pain, sounding like an innocent wounded animal.
“That’s for putting your hands on me.” Her voice was steady despite what she had witnessed and what she was going through.
Then she leaned down, close enough that he had no choice but to look at her. “You think you’re strong because you can have your way with a teenage girl?” Her eyes blazed with indignation. “You’re a pathetic man. A demented human being with no heart. Do you have a daughter?”
He bawled.
“Answer me!” she commanded.
“My daughter is eight.”
What the fuck?
I jabbed the gun into his head. “I should tie you up and bring you to your family.”
“No, please. Please don’t.”
“Tell me your full name.” Fran’s tone brooked no argument. “And occupation.”
I nudged him with my gun. “Tell her.”
“Gra… Grayson Ca… Carvalho. I own…” He cried.
Fran looked at me as though she wanted me to hit him again.
I grinned. “I have a lot of bullets in this gun, Grayson.”
“I own Motel 8 franchises.”
What a twisted son of a bitch. “And you use them for sex trafficking.”
Fran slapped him across the face, hard. “You just lost your business. And your daughter will learn what a monster of a father you are. I will make sure of it. I will tell the world who you are.”
The steel in her voice made me proud and broke my heart at the same time. She shouldn’t have to be this strong, this fierce. But she was. And watching her now, I saw something I’d always dreaded and hoped for simultaneously—my daughter understanding the darkness in the world and facing it on her own terms.
Through the rain, the thunder, and the lightning, I could see both my little girl and the warrior she could become. After this, I would teach her everything I knew about self-defense—how to break a hold, where to strike, when to run. I would train her until she was better than me, stronger than me.
The world had too many monsters, and while I prayed she never faced them again, I wouldn’t leave her unprepared.
Her eyes met mine, and there was a silent understanding between us. The rain had washed away the last of her childhood innocence, but it hadn’t broken her. If anything, it had tempered her, like steel in a forge.
“We need to save Grace, Dad. We’re done here.”
I laughed, only because it was kind of cool how she took charge, but Grace needed us.
I hauled the man to his feet. “How many more of you are in these woods?”
I needed to know what Fran and I were up against.
“Four more like me who are clients, Josh Kinley, Drew Lopez, and a crazy guy named Harris.”
“Guards?” I asked.
