“You gonna say something?” Doyle’s eyes narrowed. “Or you just gonna stand there?”
I looked at him. Saw the anticipation in his face. The hunger. He wanted me to fight back. Wanted the challenge. Wanted to prove he could take me.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Do what you came to do,” I said quietly.
Something flickered in his expression. Confusion maybe. He’d expected threats. Resistance. Not … this.
“The hell’s wrong with you?”
I didn’t answer.
Doyle’s confusion curdled into something uglier.
The first punch caught me in the jaw. I tasted copper.
I didn’t raise my hands.
The second hit landed in my ribs. Something cracked. Pain exploded through my side, white-hot and blinding.
Harper’s words echoed in my mind.
“You’re exactly like every other man who swore he loved me and then proved he loved something else more.”
A boot connected with my knee. I went down hard, gravel biting into my palms.
“The only difference is your version of violence comes wrapped in protection. But it’s still violence. And you’re still choosing it over me.”
Gwen’s voice joined the chorus.
“I looked into the crowd and saw an empty seat where you should have been.”
Fists rained down. My face. My stomach. My back. I curled into myself on instinct, but I didn’t fight back. Didn’t block. Just let the blows land while my daughter’s voice echoed in my skull.
“You weren’t there to tell me it would be okay.”
Blood filled my mouth.
“I’ve spent years in therapy trying to learn how to trust people. Trying to unlearn the lesson you taught me.”
My vision blurred.
Somewhere far away, I heard shouting. Guards maybe. Didn’t matter.
“Fight back!” Doyle’s boot connected with my stomach. “Goddamn you, fight back!”
I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. What was left to fight for?
The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole was Gwen’s face. Pigtails and a gap-toothed smile. Pressing a necklace into my hands. Metal beads she’d strung herself, clumsy and uneven, on a leather cord her preschool teacher had helped her tie. Pink and purple and one random green one because, “Green is your favorite, Daddy.”
I’d worn it every day since.
“Will you wear it forever, Daddy?”
“Until the day I die, baby girl.”
The final kick connected with my temple.
