My throat tightened.When was the last time anyone had made my girls laugh like this?When was the last time they’d felt safe enough to simply be children?The realization that it wasn’t me, that despite everything I’d sacrificed, I couldn’t give them this simple joy, hit me like a physical blow.
I remained frozen in the doorway.My body hummed with conflicting impulses, relief at seeing my daughters relaxed and happy at the fore, followed closely by wariness about trusting this moment with a man I barely knew and a crushing guilt that someone else had accomplished what I couldn’t.
Tiny gathered the fallen cards with careful movements, his huge hands looking absurdly gentle as he passed half the deck to Zelda.She took them without hesitation, already planning the foundation for their next attempt.The casual trust in the gesture made my chest ache.
“Mom!”Kira noticed me first, her face lighting up.“Look what we’re building!”
Tiny turned his head, his gaze finding mine across the room.Something flickered across his face before he nodded in acknowledgment.“Your daughters are teaching me patience,” he said, his voice deliberately light.“I’m not very good at it yet.”
“He keeps making the tower fall,” Zelda informed me, but there was a hint of playfulness in her tone I hadn’t heard in years.“But we’re letting him try again.”
We’re letting him try again.The words echoed in my head.My fierce, wary daughter who trusted no one, especially men, was willingly spending time with this giant of a man with his intimidating appearance.And Kira, my silent, watchful sweetheart, was openly laughing.
I took a breath, trying to steady my racing heart.“That’s… that’s nice of you.”My voice sounded strange, tight with emotions I couldn’t fully process.
“Mom, come help,” Kira patted the carpet beside her, inviting me into their circle.“Maybe your hands are steady enough.”
But as I watched Tiny carefully place another card with exaggerated concentration, causing both girls to lean forward in anticipation, I felt something else beneath the fear and guilt.A tiny spark of hope, fragile as the card tower itself flickered inside me.Maybe this place really could be the haven its name promised.
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been standing there until Tiny cleared his throat softly.A recognition flashed in his eyes as he met my gaze with his.With a deliberate slowness that spoke of someone acutely aware of how his size might be perceived, he unfolded himself from the floor, rising to his full height like a mountain slowly rising from the ground.I felt myself tense, an automatic reaction I couldn’t control despite having watched his gentleness with my girls just moments before.
“Sorry,” he said, his deep voice pitched carefully soft.“Didn’t mean to scare you.”He spoke softly, the pleasant timbre soothing me when I knew I needed to keep my guard up.There was something about Tiny that had me feeling secure when I didn’t think I should.Not yet.
I shook my head.“You didn’t.I just…” What?Just what?Just stood here watching a strange man play with my daughters and felt conflicted about it?“I was surprised to see the girls so… engaged.”
He nodded, keeping a respectful distance between us.“They’re good kids.Smart.”His massive shoulders shifted slightly as he gestured toward the far wall.“I came by to check the east-side security camera.Knight noticed a blind spot in our coverage.Thought I’d check on it myself and adjust it.”He seemed like he was stretching to find something to talk about, like he thought he needed to make conversation but had no idea how to go about it.Also, he seemed… nervous?Even now, as he spoke, a flush crept up his neck to his face.
“The one by the service entrance?”I asked, latching onto the neutral topic with relief.So, maybe if I ignored his discomfort, he’d ignore mine.
“Yeah.Angle was off by about fifteen degrees.”His hands, so large they made the playing cards look like postage stamps, moved in a small arc to demonstrate.“Creates a dead zone where someone could potentially approach without being seen.”I involuntarily glanced toward the window, an old habit from years of watching for Andy’s car to pull into the driveway.“It’s fixed now,” Tiny added hastily, seemingly reading my concern.“And there’s always someone on patrol, even if the cameras missed something.”
The girls had returned to building their card tower, Zelda positioning the base with surprising precision while Kira sorted cards by their condition, setting aside the bent ones.They seemed so at ease, even with this enormous man standing just feet away.The contrast with their usual hypervigilance around men made my throat tight.
“They don’t usually…” I started, then paused, unsure how to continue.“They’re not usually comfortable around people they don’t know.Especially men.”
Tiny’s gaze moved to the girls, then back to me.“I like hearing them laugh.”He hesitated, then asked, “How are you settling in?”
“We’re OK.”The automatic response, practiced over years of deflecting concern.Then, surprising myself, I added, “Better than I expected, actually.It’s been a long time since any of us slept without… without worrying.”
He nodded, his beard shifting slightly with the movement.The intricate braiding was really cool, despite how the thick beard gave him a wild appearance.Everything about him seemed to exist in that contradiction.Intimidating, yet careful, massive, yet gentle.
“How’d you find this place?”he asked, the question casual but his eyes watchful.
I glanced at the girls, making sure they were absorbed in their building before answering.“A lawyer.She works with domestic violence cases.She called ahead for me when I told her we needed to leave immediately.”I picked at the edge of my sleeve, worrying at a loose thread.“We took four different buses to get here.I was afraid he’d track the car.”
“Smart,” Tiny said, and the simple approval in his voice shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it did.
“Not smart enough,” I whispered, almost to myself.“I waited too long.Almost too long.”
Silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft sound of cards sliding against each other as the girls worked.The tower rose slowly, precarious but determined, much like my own resolve had been that day we fled.
“I had a backpack for us ready to run.I just hadn’t been pushed to make the leap.”I found myself spilling my story, the words flowing out like water through a crack in a dam.“I’d been saving cash for months, hiding it in the attic.Two hundred and sixty-seven dollars to start a new life.”A bitter laugh escaped me.“Ridiculous, right?But it was that or… or…”
“Or stay and be hurt?”Tiny finished quietly.“It’s never ridiculous to survive.”
I looked up at him, really looked, taking in the weathered lines around his eyes, the tattoos visible at the edges of his shirt sleeves, the way he held himself with a controlled stillness that spoke of hard-won discipline.
“I heard him on the phone,” I said, my voice dropping so low I wasn’t sure he could hear me.“My husband.He was going to…” The words caught in my throat, nearly choking me.I swallowed hard, my eyes automatically seeking Zelda, reassuring myself she was still there, still safe.“He owed someone money.A lot of money, I think.And he was going to pay them with…” I couldn’t finish, my voice breaking on the unspoken horror.
