His hand flew at me, and the pain exploded in my cheek as I crashed into the pool. Darkness drew me close, surrounding me in a watery cocoon. Awareness flittered into oblivion. The pain receded into a dull background noise easily tuned out. I barely felt the strong arms pull me out and lay me unceremoniously on the warm tile.
Gar helped me to stand. Dizziness sent me into the arms of my silent sentry.
He held onto me as I regained my balance, then turned to Dollinger with a fierce expression on his face. "That was a mistake." Gar lifted our client by the collar. "Apologize."
I tried to focus my sights on our client, but something blocked my vision. I swiped at my face, and flinched. It felt like a giant golf ball had taken up residence in my eye socket. "Gar, it's okay. Put him down."
Gar paused for a moment, and just when I thought he would beat the man bloody, he dropped him onto the cement.
I did my best to lock eyes with Dollinger. I'd never been physically abused before, and my whole body shook from the pain, adrenaline, and fear. "You will never touch me again. And you will make sure this pervert is put away for good. If you don't, I'll make your life hell. I can reach you anywhere, find out anything about you, and destroy you. Are we clear?"
He glared at me, then at my muscleman, and nodded.
I walked back to the house with the help of my guard.
***
"Oh my dear, what happened? Are you okay?" Mrs. Beaumont rushed to me, her concern masked by too many Botox injections.
"I'm fine, I think. I slipped and fell in the pool. Must've hit my head on the side."
"Come on, dear, let's dry you off and get ice on that. Perhaps we should take you to the doctor."
"No, no doctors. I just need to lie down."
After a warm shower and dry clothes, I rested on my guest bed with ice packs that Tommy replaced each time they melted.
"You're a good nurse, kid."
His eyes glowed bright at the compliment as he eased a fresh icepack onto my face. "You didn't fall, Sam," he whispered. "I saw Uncle Henry hit you. Why would he hurt you like that? That's not right."
I sat up to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see that, buddy. You're right, he shouldn't have done that. But I need you to do me a favor."
"What, Sam?"
"I need you to keep this just between us. No one else can know, okay?"
My heart constricted at his confusion and sadness. How could I do this to him? How could I ask him to lie, to cover up abuse, when I'd just jeopardized my assignment to expose his father? But what choice did I have? I couldn't risk any more problems. I shuddered at the thought of my potential punishments for what I'd already done.
"You want me to lie?"
"Oh, Tommy, I don't know. Of course I don't want you to lie. But there's more going on here than I can tell you right now. Do you trust me?"
"Yes, I sure do!"
"Then please don't tell anyone, okay? And remember, no matter what happens after I leave, I love you and have done everything I can to protect you."
He nodded and snuggled into the bed with me.
I relished those few moments of innocence before I got up to prepare to leave.
By that evening, both my eyes were nearly swollen shut. Gar made the arrangements and scheduled a pickup for me, but I had one more thing to do before we left.
I found Mrs. Beaumont in the kitchen. "Do you have a computer I can borrow? I just want to email my friends that I'm coming home."
"Of course, dear. We're sad to see you go, but so happy that you're no longer in danger."
They had bought the cover story, and now that my assignment was complete, my "father" no longer needed me ensconced in safety.
She led me to her study and logged me into her computer. "There you go. Take your time, I'll be in the living room if you need any help."
"Thank you." Guilt prodded me to talk more than I should have. "Mrs. Beaumont, if something were to happen to your husband, would you and Tommy be okay?"
Her face probably couldn't register surprise, what with the Botox, but a small tear formed in the corner of her eye. "Don't you worry about us, Sam. I know more than you think, and I'll always make sure Tommy is taken care of."
She left the room and left me with more questions than answers. Did she know about her husband's extracurricular activities?
I slipped the memory stick into the computer and opened up an email as Mrs. Beaumont. It only took a second to find the FBI email address for tips. I attached the pictures, wrote a brief message exposing Mr. Beaumont, and hit Send. Right or wrong, I had to be sure this bastard paid.
Gar had stood behind me the whole time, probably to make sure I didn't expose Rent-A-Kid in any way. When I looked at him, he gave a curt nod. I think he approved of my choice.
He checked his watch. "We have to go now."
Before we left the room, I pulled Gar around to face me. "Thank you for defending me, and for letting me do this."
His lips twitched just the slightest. "I have a daughter. You did the right thing."
He turned and walked away before I could say anything else. I tried to imagine Gar with a family, but the picture didn't fit—like that "which of these doesn't belong" game. But everyone had to come from somewhere. No one was created in a lab.