Page 38 of The Dance

Her eyes cut to mine. “Blake—”

“Relax. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I can go home.”

“Can you?” I questioned. “Who attacked you?” I didn’t need to be a Rocket Scientist to know she was assaulted. “One of your grandpas?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Then who?”

“Can we not talk about it?”

I stopped at a red light and turned to face her. “You walked into my bar looking like you got the shit beat out of you, and you don’t want to explain?”

“I just … I just want to go to sleep and forget it happened.”

“Forget it happened? Who the fuck did this to you?”

“Just drop it.”

“Toots—”

“Don’t call me that!” Stacey snapped.

The light changed, and I pressed on the gas. “Can you at least tell me why I can’t call you what I’ve always called you?”

I heard her exhale a breath. “Tomorrow, okay?”

I grunted a small laugh. “Tomorrow? Why tomorrow?”

“Because I need time!”

“Time to what? We need to go to the fucking police, Stacey. You were attacked.”

She sucked in a breath and started to cry again. “We can’t go to the police.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because everyone will know what I do for money.”

“So, it was one of your grandpas, then?”

“He was younger.” She hung her head.

“Fine. He’s still a sugar daddy!” I didn’t mean to yell, but I was angry. Not at her, but because someone hurt her, and I wasn’t there to protect her. “You need to go to the police and report him.”

“I can’t, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had to take several deep breaths, so we didn’t crash.

“Just take me home,” she pleaded.

“No!” I snapped.

“Blake!”

“Stacey!”