“We have a zero-tolerance policy for physical violence at this school. We have no option but to suspend Tilly for two days.”

I stared across the desk at the asshole who seemed to be loving every moment of this. Tilly sat beside me, her head dipped, hands clasped together, visibly upset, and I was close to jumping across the short distance and gouging his goddamn eyes out.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, trying with everything I had to keep my cool because losing my shit here, in front of this jumped up little prick, wouldn’t help Tilly.

“I assure you, I am completely serious,” he said, his thin, pinched little mouth tightening on his pasty face.

“This kid, Blake, has been bullying Tilly for weeks. I’ve spoken to her teacher more than once about it. I’ve had her coming home in tears after he’s picked on her all damn day, and this is how you help her, this is how she gets treated for sticking up for herself…protecting herself, after you failed to do that for her?” Okay, maybe I wasn’t keeping a lid on my emotions as well as I should, but Tilly had been bullied enough in her life, starting with her asshole father.

“Blake has been spoken to…”

“Has he been suspended as well? He pulled her hair.”

“Well, no…”

“Why not,” I fired at him.

“Because Blake wasn’t physically violent, and Tilly was.”

“He did so pull my hair,” Tilly said, her face red with anger.

Mr. Clayton looked at her. “Not another word from you, young lady.” His gaze slid back to me. “No one saw him pull her hair, but we have several witnesses that saw her punch Blake.”

I stared at him, at his too-close-together blue eyes, the superior tilt to his thin mouth, and I knew I couldn’t win, no matter how wrong, how unfair, or how messed up this was. I would not win. And I hated how helpless that made me. I didn’t want my niece to think she had to sit back and allow people to treat her badly, that there was no damn justice.

“Sometimes, Mr. Clayton, words do a lot more damage than fists. I don’t agree with violence either, but Tilly did the only thing she could when this school failed her. She shouldn’t have to put up with a bully, she shouldn’t have to put up with abuse of any kind, from anyone.” I pointed at him. “You failed her, Mr. Clayton. You made it so she had no other choice but do what she did.”

“I don’t agree…there is never any reason to get physical.”

I stood and held my hand out for Tilly. “Bullies come in all shapes and sizes; some on the playground, and some in positions of power, hiding behind big desks. The one thing they all have in common? They’re cowards.”

His eyes narrowed.

Yeah, I’m talking about you, you weaselly fucker.

“If you don’t stand up to them, they’ll keep on mistreating you. I don’t want my niece to think that’s okay, that she shouldn’t protect herself when she needs to. So, we’ll take the two days, Mr. Clayton, because you’ve given us no choice, but if she comes back here and you don’t stop the bullying, you’ll be seeing me again, and I can assure you, I won’t be so friendly.”

I led Tilly from the room, shutting the door softly behind me, and we walked out of the school.

“You’re not mad with me?” Tilly said, when we walked out and headed down the street.

I pulled up short and crouched down, taking both her hands in mine. “No, baby, I’m not.”

“He did pull my hair, Willa, and he’s done it before.”

It took everything in me to stop the rage from coming through in my voice. “I believe you, Tils.” I tweaked her nose. “Of course, that doesn’t mean you should be punching people left and right.”

She nodded. “I know. I just got so mad.”

“You had good reason to be mad. I think Blake might think twice before pulling another girls hair.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “Now, I want you to promise me that you won’t let this, what happened in that office, stop you from protecting yourself if you have to.”

“I promise.”

“Good girl. Now let’s go get some ice cream. Just think how angry that would make grumpy Mr. Clayton.”

Tilly giggled, and the center of my chest warmed at the sound. She’d looked so small and afraid when I’d walked into that office. I never wanted to see her like that again. We walked a little way down the street and I waved down a cab. Tilly scrambled in and I was about to follow when I spotted Trent across the street, watching us.

I quickly climbed in, and pulled the door shut.

Fuck.

* * *

Jethro was back.

He’d come to the club twice last week, both times right when I’d finished my shifts, thank God. Still, his eyes had found me, had followed me, as I’d left the club. The guy was a major creep and after what Jude said about him, he terrified the hell out of me.

He always had a crew with him, usually goons that stood there, looking intimidating. This time, he had a couple of guys I recognized from the poker game. His pasty friend with the light eyes, Donny, was one of them, and another guy from the game, whose name I didn’t know.

They were giving one of the girls their drink order; that’s when Jethro’s eyes came to me and he grinned, in a way that lifted the hair on the back of my neck.

I spun away quickly and headed for the back of the club. I needed to get ready for my dance and I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it with that revolting, twisted prick watching me.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder before I reached the dressing room, and I shrieked and jerked away, getting the fright of my life.

It was Josie, one of the other dancers. My face heated.

“Hey, girl, you all right?” she asked.

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine, really.”

She planted a hand on her hip, not looking convinced. “You up for a private dance? I said you were due onstage, but he wants you now. Said he’d pay double if you’d switch with someone else.”

Dread crawled down my spine. “Who?”

“The suit with the greasy smile and the fat wallet that just walked in with an entourage.”

Jethro.

I was shaking my head before she finished talking. “I’ll pass.” I hadn’t done any private dances yet, and I wasn’t sure if I would. Jethro sure as hell wasn’t going to be my first one if I did.

Josie blinked at me. “You’re gonna pass on all that cash?”

I grabbed for the door handle behind me, suddenly feeling unsteady. The last thing I would ever do was lock myself in a room with a man known for his sadistic treatment of women. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

Josie shrugged. “You still shaken from that grabby asshole?”

Trent had text earlier, right after I’d seen him outside the school. He wanted more money. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I’d stupidly hoped he’d disappear.

So, I’d given in and told Raul I was available for lap dances.

Two of the guys were just there for a laugh with friends; they were fun, generous with tips, and followed the rules. The third guy I danced for had a look in his eyes that had given me pause. He’d whispered sick things to me while I danced for him, and then he’d touched me and had gotten aggressive about it.

I’d tried not to freak out, and Bret, one of the bouncers was there in moments, hauling him out of the club, but Josie was right; it had definitely left me shaken.

“I guess,” I said.

She gave me a knowing look, squeezed my hand, and turned to walk away. I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Avoid him, Josie, the suit out there. I’ve heard things about him…just, you should stay away from him.”

She looked surprised, but nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Another dancer at a city club had vanished, and though Raul made sure we were safe and we were out of the target area, as the police called it, we couldn’t be too careful. We had to look out for each other.

I forced myself to do my job, took the stage, and did my dance, not once looking in the direction of the club where Jethro was sitting.

After, I found Raul and told him I was feeling sick and left early.

I couldn’t stand being in the same room with that man.

When I got home, I climbed in the shower, the water as hot as I could handle it, and let it wash over me. Wash away the feeling of hands, of hot alcohol breath, of lewd words grunted in my ears.

I’d called Fay on the way home and let her know I’d be a little late picking up Tils. I’d wanted to shower, to get my head straight, before I saw her.

I quickly dressed and ran over. Fay had her friend there visiting. Jennifer was tall, had long brown hair, and like Fay, had been treated very well by time. I knew she used to be a dancer for Raul’s family. You could tell how happy they were to see each other, how close they were, and I felt a little envious that Fay had her.

I’d never had a friend like that, except for Rebecca, but that was before Trent and the drugs.

“How about a piece of cake for dessert?” Fay said.

“Yes, please!” Tilly said. The kid loved cake.

Fay took her to the kitchen to put some in a container, leaving me with Jennifer.

“You’re lucky to have her,” Jennifer said, cutting through the silence. “Unmarried, looking after that child. She tells me you work for Raul.”

I couldn’t read her tone or the look on her face. “We’d be lost without her.”

“I’d hate to think anyone was taking advantage of her,” she said.

My back straightened, but I bit back the sharp response sitting on the tip of my tongue. She was Fay’s good friend, she didn’t know me. She was being protective. I could respect that. “We love Fay. We’d never do anything to hurt her…”

Tilly skipped back in then, followed by Fay, so we said our goodbyes and headed home, leaving them to their evening.

We had dinner, and now Tilly was leaning against my side. We were eating chips and watching a movie, when she looked up at me, eyes so wide and lost, I froze for a moment. “What’s wrong, Tils?”

She bit her bottom lip and when she blinked, a tear streaked down her cheek. “Is Dad going to take me away from you?”

My mouth went dry, tingles crawling all over my skin…no, not tingles. Tingles could be pleasant. This felt like a million pins being poked into me repeatedly from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck. “What?” It was all I could manage.

“I saw him, Willa. I saw Dad at school when we got into the cab.” She looked terrified, lost.

Oh God. “No. No, Tils. That won’t happen. I have custody of you, remember. He can’t take you away from me, not without the courts giving him that right back, and that won’t happen.”

She leaned into me, burying her face against my shoulder. “Promise?” she said, voice muffled.

“I promise.” I’d do anything before I let that happen.

I woke two hours later, still on the couch, alone since I’d put Tilly to bed earlier. I thought I’d be awake all night. Seemed my shitty day had wiped me out after all.

I lay there for a moment, listening to the muted chatter coming from the TV, the flickers of light on the ceiling.

Tilly had been so scared tonight. I’d had to sit with her until she fell asleep. Trent wasn’t getting anywhere near her. I wouldn’t let him.

Trent had gone to her school today, had been hanging around outside. Why? I couldn’t believe it was because he wanted to see his daughter, that he’d missed her. Had he followed me there? He’d obviously wanted me to see him.

An icy chill slid through me, like a giant slushy tidal wave submerging me, slow and so cold, I felt frozen to the bone. I had no damned idea what he’d do next. I was losing control of the situation, if I ever was in control in the first place. I needed a lot more money. I needed more shifts. The tips I got today were great, but adding a few night shifts until I had Trent’s money, would get me there a whole lot faster. It would get him to back off for a bit, so I could think.

I also needed to call the school first thing, to make sure they understood that Trent wasn’t allowed anywhere near Tilly. I’d already given them instructions to that effect when I enrolled her, but wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

Grabbing my phone, I called Raul, and he agreed to give me three night shifts, starting tomorrow. Steph said the girls who worked nights made great money and if I made myself available for more lap dances…maybe even some private dances, I could make the money I needed faster.

My phone beeped.

Jude: You awake?

I let out the breath I was holding. I couldn’t deal with Trent again today. Jude asked if he could message me last time we texted, but then the next night came and he didn’t. I assumed he’d changed his mind, but I’d been wrong apparently.

Yep, just hanging out on the couch.

I forced myself to stare at the TV, a feeble attempt to convince myself I wasn’t lying here, waiting for his reply.

He replied almost instantly. Was going to text yesterday, but things got complicated.

I read that as, I was busy chasing bad guys. The rescue footage I’d seen of him on TV flashed through my mind. Yes, complicated could mean anything where Jude was concerned.

I typed out my response. Did you get your man?

Not yet, should only be another day or two, we’re closing in on him. How’s work?

I thought about Jethro coming in, the lap dances I’d done earlier, the creep with his hands on me, the money I’d made, and for some weird reason, I felt kind of…guilty. I couldn’t help but wonder what Jude would think of me doing that, if he’d hate it. Him and I didn’t owe each other anything. A couple of kisses does not a relationship make. We weren’t really even friends. I couldn’t explain where the feeling came from, I just knew he wouldn’t like it.

Work’s fine. I’m doing a few evening shifts this week, the extra money will be good.

His reply took longer to come, and I wondered if there was some kind of action happening and that was the end of our conversation, but then my phone vibrated with another message.

Don’t do it on my account, I told you not to worry about rent until you’re back on your feet.

Always the nice guy. Though, I couldn’t help but feel like the tone of this text was different. Sharper, maybe. Did he not like the idea of me working nights?

I’m doing it for Tilly. I need the money.

His reply was almost instant. The crowd can be a little rough evenings, make sure one of Raul’s boys has eyes on you at all times.

I blinked down at his message, warmth unfurling in the center of my chest. He was concerned, maybe even worried about me. When was the last time someone was worried about me? I couldn’t remember. My mom had been too caught up in her own misery, working all the time, and Rebecca had been so deep into drugs, all she’d worried about was her next fix. Then there was my ex-boyfriend, who ran off as soon as things got complicated. He’d only ever cared about himself.

Jude wasn’t family. He didn’t owe me anything, he had no obligation to me and Tilly. He was my landlord, and he’d shown more kindness to us than anyone in my family ever had.

I will. I text back.

I got up and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was ready for bed and climbing between the covers when his next text came.

Glad to hear it. You nearly ready to hit the sack?

On a whim, I opened the camera and took a picture of myself, hair in a messy bun, and tongue poking out, like a complete goof—I was also braless under my tank, and I might have let that show as well—then sent it to him. I picked up my book and tried to read. I read the same paragraph four times, waiting for his reply.

Fuck, Willa, was all it said when it came.

I had no idea what that meant. Okay, maybe I did, but I found myself wanting him to spell it out. Maybe that was playing with fire, again sending mixed signals, and God, I knew it was selfish, but Jude made me feel good; about myself, about my ability to raise my niece. He made me feel like I wasn’t failing miserably at every damn aspect of my life.

Fuck, what? I sent back. I wasn’t fooling anyone with that reply, and his, when it came, made that perfectly clear.

I’m on a stakeout here, babe, and now the only thing I want to look at is that fucking picture.

I grinned. I’m in my pjs, with messy hair, and my tongue poking out. Besides comic relief, I’m not sure why you’d be distracted.

Jude: Comic, is not the kind of relief I’m craving when I look at you.

Willa: No?

Jude: Coy doesn’t suit you, honey. You know exactly what it’s doing to me.

My heart started racing, my skin heating, feeling too tight. I typed my reply. Maybe.

Jude: No maybe. It’s not a matter of if, for us, but when, and you know it.

I was trying to think of a way to answer that, when those three little dots popped up again, telling me he was typing.

Jude: Gotta go, my guy’s on the move. Talk tomorrow.

I stared down at our messages. What the hell did I think I was doing? I put my phone down by the bed, my heart still racing fast, my skin clammy, hot pulsing need between my thighs.

It was a bad idea.

But who was I kidding. I’d wanted him since the day I met him, and he showed me around this house. I didn’t have time for this, for a man like Jude. Tilly needed my entire focus. I had Trent to worry about.

But deep down, I knew Jude was right.

There was no if, only when.

* * *

I woke with a start the next morning, my phone buzzing relentlessly on my bedside table. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins as I grabbed it and checked the screen.

Trent.

I wanted to ignore it, pretend he never called, that he didn’t exist, but that wasn’t an option. Ignoring him would only make him angrier.

I put it to my ear. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he said in a hushed voice that sent a shiver down my spine.

I gripped the phone tighter. “I don’t know what you expect me to do, I can’t pull money out of thin air. I’m doing all the shifts I can, giving you everything. Christ, Trent, I need to keep a roof over Tilly’s head. Don’t you care the money you’re taking from me hurts her, makes life harder for her?” I don’t know why I was trying to appeal to the man’s heart; I knew for a fact he didn’t have one, and he proved it as soon as he opened his mouth next.

“You chose to take her,” he said, voice flat. “If you keep fucking me around like this, giving me damn peanuts, I will make your life a lot harder. I have rights, you know I do. I can claim visitation. I’m sure Child Welfare would love to know you’re a whore now.”

“I dance, that’s it…”

“Bullshit, I know what the whores in places like Stilettos are like. I know what goes on in the private rooms.”

“You’re wrong…”

“Get me more money, I don’t care how you do it. I want two grand. You have a week, or things get messy for you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, a useless attempt to get through to him.

But he hung up.