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“It looks fine, so where is he?” She met Cleg’s dark gaze, refusing to look away until he answered her.

“He’s in the back. Started trouble with a few noobs.”

“Did you call Jolson?” She leaped off the seat. “Call him, Cleg, or I’ll break your music box so badly a city-tech can’t repair it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Fear coated Cleg’s voice, but he pinned his right palm to his cheek to call the sheriff.

She couldn’t wait, jogging around the tables, through the swinging door at the back, and out into filtered sunlight. Heat warmed her skin, but thanks to the dome, it didn’t burn her.

Pa sprawled on his stomach. A man pressed his foot to the nape of Pa’s neck, forcing his face into the sand. Two men stood to the side, laughing and slapping each other on the back. Pa’s arms flailed, digging furrows in the sand as he struggled for air.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Vic rushed forward, drawing Man Two and Three’s attention.

They snickered at her distress, but Two stepped in to hinder her.

She took him down with a knee to the groin, dropping him to the sand as Three lunged for her.

A punch to his throat left him gasping and falling to his knees.

They weren’t laughing anymore. One removed his foot from Pa’s head.

Pa spluttered and coughed up sand while One circled him, his gaze flicking between his two men and Vic.

“Not so little are you, girl?” A scar marred one side of his face, but his eyes were soulless.

No joy or eagerness were in their depths.

As soon as he was clear of Pa’s legs, he grabbed for her, his fingers brushing her upper arms as she lurched back.

He swung a fist, and she ducked, coming up with a groin punch, a downward cut to his jaw, then an elbow to the back of his neck.

Two wrapped her in a tight embrace, pinning her arms to her body.

She slid her hips to the side and threw her elbow back, hard enough to wind him or crack a rib.

He grunted, bending over. She brought the same elbow up to strike him in the jaw.

Three still gasped for air, now on all fours, barking like a robo-dog.

He peered at her. His expression promised her a painful death, but he didn’t look away from her, keeping his gaze fixed as if she was a pissed-off snake.

He grappled for his gun. Oh, no, that wouldn’t do.

She kicked it out of his hand, shattering his wrist. He howled, crumpling to the sand.

She hurried to Pa’s side, hesitating to offer him aid.

He wouldn’t tolerate her touching him and hadn’t hugged her since Ma died.

Part of her hated him, the lines etched in his skin, his sad brown eyes like hers, the way his fist formed when he was about to swing at her.

Fire burned in her chest, consuming her emotions as if they were tinder.

She should leave him, should have let them kill him and eradicate him from her life.

Ma’s pale face flickered before Vic. She fought off tears of helplessness, forcing her to succumb to the promise she had made on Ma’s deathbed—take care of Pa.

“What have you done?” He gripped Vic’s shoulder, digging his fingers into her muscles, his face chaffed red from the sand.

She hoped it was that and not fury mottling his cheeks.

With the agony of his grip summoning a cry from her, she saw a beating in her future.

“These men belong to the Ring, Vic.” He darted his gaze at the fallen men, concern spiking his voice.

Ice drenched her innards, not from possible retribution, but that her Pa had gambled when he had promised Ma he wouldn’t. “You lost tokens?” Vic yanked out of his arms as anger dismissed her cowardice, along with her survival instincts. “Why the hell didn’t Cleg mention that?”

“Look at this, Victoria Harper.” Sheriff Trev Jolson strode across the sand, his careful steps not disturbing it nor dusting his polished boots.

He barreled toward her, his movements stiff and threatening.

Yet when he gripped her, his touch was gentle.

A dark curl fell across his brow, escaping his wide-brimmed hat, and he stared into her eyes, his as blue as hydro-gel.

“Sorry, Jolson. I thought I was saving Pa’s life.” Vic rubbed her shoulder where Pa had bruised her.

The sheriff scowled at her lack of respect, but she couldn’t show him any, not since she had known him from childhood. “You saved his life but lost yours, Vic,” he said, gesturing to the cameras mounted above the bar’s door.

“I’ll pay Pa’s debts. That should appease them.” She shrugged. “Let’s go home.”

Pa grunted and headed for the bar, but a hand on her elbow stilled her. She raised her gaze to meet Jolson’s again.

“Don’t let him hurt you, Vic. You deserve better.” He brushed an escaped tendril off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll do what I can to protect you and warn you if the Ring heads your way.”

“Thanks, Trev,” she said, sparing him a small smile.

A bigger one would encourage him, and he had pestered her since she turned fifteen.

She didn’t want to be someone’s wife or a kept woman, not when she wanted to own Millie’s and expand it.

Miles and miles of wasteland surrounded them, promising untold riches if she could increase the harvested capacity of sol.

There were better, more efficient butterfly panels and battery stores.

She would have replaced theirs one by one if she had a say.

Sliding into the skid-car, she wrapped her fingers around the control level to unlock and power it up until it hovered off the ground.

With a forceful tap, she activated the sun shield.

She reversed, then shot forward, aware of her father’s steady gaze on her.

Her knuckles burned where her skin had split and bled with purple bruises forming.

“Next time, mind your damn business.” He curled his fingers into fists.

She snuck a glare at him. “Next time, I’ll let them kill you. Do this world a favor.”

He leaped for her. She spun the skid-car, thrusting him against the side. He roared warnings, promises of beatings, but after the eleventh spin, his skin mottled green, and his sweed-colored vomit splattered the inside of the shield. She straightened the car and headed for home once more.

“I made a promise to Ma.” She pinched her lips from the enormity of her decision. “But I’m done with you. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to pay for a hopper, Pa, ’cos I ain’t your daughter no more.”

He laughed and wiped the spittle off his mouth with the back of his hand. “You won’t survive a day on your own, and don’t think you can crawl back here.”

A tense silence fell between them. She clenched her jaw, fighting the need to spew her disappointment, anger, hatred, everything she wished she could say to him.

A deep well of sorrow tore through her. Cold and hot pain crushed her chest, hindering her ability to breathe. She wished she had let him die.