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  “I know, Dad, but he’s a really good dog.” As if he knows we're talking about him, Beast lifts his head and barks. “I know, sweet boy,” I coo at him.

  “Yeah, I guess it's not such a bad thing that he can help me scare off all the guys who start sniffing around.”

  “Ha ha, Dad!”

  “Well, baby girl, I’ll call you in a few hours to check on you.”

  “Okay, Dad. Talk to you then.”

  Hanging up with my dad, I have a smile on my face. I wonder how different my life would be if my mom had left me with him rather than taking me with her. I also wonder why she took me to begin with.

  My mom met my dad at a graduation party when she was eighteen. They had one night of drunken, unprotected sex and I was born nine months later. Two weeks after that, my mom took off with me to live with her cousin in New York. Growing up, my mom wasn’t involved at all. I had a nanny from as far back as I can remember. Her name was Miss B. She lived in the apartment next to us. She was the person I always counted on.

  If something happened, I would go to her. She would bandage me up or tell me I shouldn’t cry over boys because they were all stupid. She is the only parental figure I’ve ever really known and when she passed away, I felt like my world crumbled around me. My dad found me not long after Miss B’s passing.

  At first, I was angry and refused to reply to any of the letters he sent. Then one day, I received a huge box stuffed full of cards from every birthday, Christmas, and Halloween that he’d missed. Some looked old and some looked new, but they all said the same thing. “Dreaming of when we will spend this day together.” Since then, we talk every day and he has become one of my best friends.

  “Okay, boy, were gonna go take a break. What do you say?”

  Yes, talking to my dog is now becoming a habit. Most likely, a bad one. I need to make sure no one is around when I do it or I'm going to look like one of the crazy people who think their animal is sending them messages from the other side. That would not be a good thing. I have enough problems without adding insanity into the mix.

  I pull off at the next rest stop and park close to the area designated for dogs. I let Beast out and he shakes his coat and stretches his legs in front of him. We walk over to the grass and I hear another vehicle pull in. I turn around to see if the person getting out has a dog as well because I don’t want to break up a dog fight and I have no idea how Beast will react to other dogs. I notice the car is still running and no one is getting out.

  The car is a silver Ford Edge with New York plates. The windows are tinted so dark that you can’t see anything inside. Something buzzes across my skin. Beast must feel it too because he begins to growl. Trying to act casually, we start walking back toward my car. I see the back passenger-side door on the Edge open. That’s when I run, with Beast right along beside me. I get my door open and he jumps across my seat.

  I'm just able to get the door closed when I see a guy walking in my direction. He’s wearing a black hoodie and black jeans. The hoodie is up so I can’t make out any details of his face, but I know he’s white because his hands are resting on his hips. Without a second look, I put my car in reverse and press the gas pedal. Boxes go sliding as I turn my car to get out of the rest area. I slam the car into drive and start speeding away, hoping I won’t see the Ford Edge in my rear view mirror. My heart is going a million miles a minute and I keep checking for any signs of the Edge. Fortunately, it’s nowhere in sight.

  I start thinking about the whole situation and realize that my imagination is going a little crazy after being attacked. I mean, what are the chances that someone from New York would follow me just to try and hurt me again? A few hours later, there’s no sign of the Edge. When I check my GPS, I have less than two hours until we get to my dad’s. Looking down at my gas gauge, I see that I have to stop soon to fill up. With that thought, my calm heart starts to speed up again.

  It’s after seven at night and the interstate is quiet with just a few cars traveling, but there are lots of semis on the road. The next exit offers every kind of fast food available, so I'm hoping there will be a lot of people there. No, not just people. I'm hoping for the scary trucker type of people. I exit the interstate and pull into the well-lit gas station. There are a few other cars getting gas so I hop out and go inside to pay. There is a Dunkin’ Donuts, and like a parched man in a desert, I find myself standing in front of their counter. After getting my coffee, paying for gas, and getting another bottle of water for Beast, I step out into the parking lot. Keeping an eye on the parking lot, I walk quickly to my car.

  “That’s a beautiful dog you have there.”

  Screaming and stepping back, I almost fall over the hose that is going from the pump into my car. “Sorry I scared you, honey. I just saw your dog and he’s a beauty.”

  “Oh, thanks,” I say while holding my chest. Getting a look at the guy, he looks harmless. He’s dressed a lot like Santa Claus, including the suspenders with a red and black plaid shirt tucked into his jeans and black boots. I can’t help the smile that comes to my face. He smiles back.

  “Russ,” he says, sticking out his hand.

  “November,” I say, shaking it.

  “What kind of dog is he?”

  “Great Dane, I think. I'm not sure. I only looked up pictures online after I found him. His name is Beast.”

  “You found him and named him Beast,” he laughs.

  “Well, actually, it’s a long story but I guess he kind of found me.”

  “That I believe!” he says with a sad look on his face. “You take care of him and he’ll take care of you, honey. I used to have a dog like that and he traveled everywhere with me. Even took my back a couple times when I got into a jam. They really are man’s best friend.” He looks so lost while talking about his dog that I want to say something but don’t know what. I reach my hand out and squeeze his. He squeezes mine back, and then I drop mine to my side and give him a small smile.

  “Welp, gotta hit the road. Have a load to drop off in Nashville. You drive safe.”

  “You too,” I say as he walks to the cab of a semi and climbs inside. Then, without thinking, I lift my fist up in the air and pull down. At that, he blows his horn and is on his way. I can’t help the smile that hits my face.

  My GPS announces that we have reached our destination as I'm driving up a long, private road. In the distance, I see a large blue house with a white wraparound porch. Sitting in the dark in a rocking chair is my dad. I slow down to take him in. He has his bare feet stretched out in front of him with a cup in his left hand. He’s wearing jeans with a blue V-neck T-shirt. His dark hair barely touches the collar of his shirt and is pushed back from his face. His skin looks tan, like he spends a lot of time out in the sun, but around his eyes is lighter. He probably wears sunglasses when he’s out enjoying the sun.

  I pull up as he starts down the stairs. I try to open my door but he’s already there, pulling it open. Getting out of the car, my hands start to shake and all of the stress and worry from the last few days comes to the surface. Now that I'm here, my dad will take care of everything. He is my biggest supporter and the person I can always count on to have my back. He pulls me into a giant hug, shaking me around. When he finally sets me in front of him, he looks down at me and his hands go to my face.

  “You look more beautiful than the last time I saw you, baby girl. Even with all the bruises,” he says, holding my face gently in his hands. His face changes and his jaw tightens. “If I ever see the fucking guy who did this to you, he’s going to wish he was never born. I hope they catch that fucking coward,” he says, letting go of my face and hugging me into his chest while kissing the top of my head. “Welcome home, baby girl.”

  That was all I needed to hear for my whole body to relax into his. Welcome home. I actually had a home and it felt beautiful. “It feels good to be home,” I say with a smile. Just then, Beast pushes his way between us. Dad bends down to show him some love. He scratches his head, and in retu
rn, Beast licks his face.

  “Hey, now. None of that,” he says while standing. “So, baby girl, are you ready to see your new place and get a lay of the land or do you want to just see your room and pass out?”

  Laughing, I say, “I’ll just see the room and pass out. It was a long drive.”

  “I know that you wanted to get here quickly but you should have stayed another night in a hotel.”

  I didn’t tell my dad about the rest stop because I didn’t want him to worry. I was probably just being paranoid. But after that, all I wanted was to get to my dad’s house and put as many miles as I could between me and New York.

  “I know, Dad, but I just wanted to get here.”

  “I'm glad you made it here safely. Let’s go inside so you can get settled and rest.” He puts his arm around my shoulder, taking me with him.

  In the house, I’m surprised that everything looks like it’s straight out of a magazine. By the front door is a long, black table with a bowl filled with keys and coins. The wood floors are so dark; they almost look black.

  Walking down the hallway, we enter a room with the tallest ceiling I’ve ever seen. The beams going across the room are the same color as the wood floors. There is a wall of windows from one side of the room to the other. The kitchen is open to the living room with an island in the center that is as big as a dining table with five stools in front of it. The appliances in the kitchen all look new and unused. The countertops are a light granite with brown and red streaming through them. In the living room, there's a leather couch that looks more like a bed with a low back.

  The entertainment center is built into the wall and two leather recliners sit on either side of the low couch. The throw pillows and blankets on the back of the couch match the granite in the kitchen. All the colors in the room blend perfectly together. Everywhere I turn, I see caramel, dark brown, and red.

  “Wow, Dad, this is beautiful.”

  “Thanks, baby. Your grandmother decorated it.”

  “Grandmother?” I ask.

  “Yeah. She can't wait to meet you. I know we haven't talked about my family much, but they all know about you and are excited to get to know you.”

  “Awesome,” I whisper, still in shock that my mom took me when I was a baby. She never talked about my dad at all. I never even knew who he was until I turned eighteen and he tracked me down. Every time he has come to New York to visit, he never talked about his family and I never asked. I figured his story was the same as my mom’s. Her parents died before I could meet them and she didn't have any brothers or sisters.

  My mom has always been a loner unless you have something she wants. Then, she will attach herself to you like a life-sucking parasite.

  “Everyone will be here for breakfast. They wanted to come tonight but I thought you might get overwhelmed on your first night home. Also, we need to talk about you doing the books for the club. Your degree will help me get the office straightened out. I don’t have a lot of time to manage that part of the business. Lynn moved away with her husband and I haven’t had a chance to replace her.”

  “When do I start?” I say, smiling.

  “Well, tonight I want you to rest.” He squeezes my shoulder. “And for the rest of the week, I want you to recover. After you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you down to the club and show you the office. Hopefully, you can set something up so you can work from home.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Walking through the kitchen, there’s a set of stairs going down to the basement. “Wow, Dad, I thought you loved me and now you’re taking me to the dungeon.”

  Laughing, he shakes his head. “No. There’s a basement apartment. Your grandma and everyone else came over and worked on it all day yesterday. They rushed over as soon as they found out you’d be staying with me. It also has its own entrance so you can have some privacy.” He flips on the light.

  “It's perfect.” There’s a small living room and kitchen when you first walk in. He leads me down a short hall and opens a door. The bedroom is huge and there’s also an en-suite. I’m so overwhelmed that I start crying.

  “It’s okay,” Dad says while dragging me into his body for a hug. “We just want you to be happy here.”

  “This is so nice. I can’t even tell you how happy I am,” I say into his shirt, giving him a squeeze. It’s the truth. I have never seen a more perfect space. It’s amazing that this is someplace to call my own.

  “Well, I'm gonna go unpack your car while you get some sleep,” he says, kissing my forehead. He turns to leave, then stops and looks at me over his shoulder. “I’m really happy you’re here, November. I can’t even tell you how happy this makes me.” With that, he’s gone. Leaving me to think about how different my life could have been.

  Waking up in the morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of voices above me, I climb out of bed. After I shower, I put on a pair of my favorite jeans. They are so dark; they’re almost black and look good with an off-the-shoulder lavender sweater and dark brown riding boots. I blow out my hair and tie it into a ponytail that hits the middle of my back. I put on some makeup to try to conceal the bruises that are now starting to turn green. With a little mascara, some bronzer, and blush, I make my way upstairs. Beast is sitting at the island next to a woman with the same hair as my dad. When she sees me, she jumps off the stool and runs to me, pulling me into a tight hug.

  “Oh, sweet girl, you’re finally here,” she says, holding me away from her body and putting her hands to my face. “You look so much like your great grandma Ellie. She was a beauty and you have your daddy’s eyes and hair.” Pulling me back into her chest, I want to cry for the little girl who missed out on this.

  “Thank you,” I say, trying to control the tears I feel coming.

  “Oh, honey, you don’t have to thank me. That is a gift given by God and good genes. Lord, I'm just so happy that you’re here and I can see for myself how beautiful you are. Your daddy showed us all pictures from his cell phone but that’s not the same. He is very proud of you.” That does it. I cry like a baby. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much in my life. The whole situation is surreal. I feel both lucky and scared, wondering if I am going to disappoint them.

  “Okay, okay,” Dad says, cutting in. “Enough of the sad stuff. Let’s introduce you to everyone, kiddo.”

  Meeting all of my family is a little terrifying. My dad’s brother, Uncle Joe, is a little bit taller than my dad, but has the same body type. You can tell he takes care of himself like my dad does. They both have bulky muscles. My uncle’s dark hair is starting to gray and he looks like he could model for a cool biker magazine with his goatee and tattoos. He brought my cousins too. His twin sons are the complete opposite of each other.

  Chris and Nick are twenty-five years old. Chris looks like a surfer with dirty blond hair and a golden tan. Nick looks like a rock star with dark brown hair and light skin covered with tattoos. My dad’s cousin, Maddy, her husband, Mark, and their two-year-old daughter, Alyssa, are also here. They even have a few other family friends over to meet me.

  Breakfast is delicious and I am really enjoying getting to know everyone. They all seem genuinely nice. We talk about what I plan on doing after getting settled. I explain about having a degree in business management and that I’m planning on helping my dad at the club. That’s when the vibe changes and all hell breaks loose.

  “You’re what?” Uncle Joe asks, yelling so loud his face turns red.

  “Um, I'm going to help my dad?” I say, my answer sounding like a question. I look around, wondering what I missed and why he’s so upset.

  “Watch it, Joe,” my dad growls.

  “No niece of mine is going to work at the strip club…that we own together, I might add.”

  “Strip club?” I ask in complete shock.

  “She is not going to be working in the club. She’s going to be doing the books and managing the office. She won’t be there during club hours and will never be in the front of the house.”
/>   “I don’t care if she’s working in the front or in the fucking alley, she’s not working there.”

  “Last time I checked, she is my daughter and I own half that club. You have no say in what she does or doesn’t do. I want her to work for me, and like I said before, she will never see the front of the fucking club.”

  “Do you want to work there?” my uncle asks me. I’m put on the spot and I really don’t want to answer him.

  “Um…I…ugh.” I take a deep breath before trying to respond. “I didn’t know that it was that kind of club,” I say in a whisper. Not that I had anything against strip clubs. I mean, to each their own, right?

  “Okay, Joe,” Grandma cuts in. “If November wants to work there, that’s her choice. And, Mike, if she doesn’t want to work there after finding out what kind of club it is, that’s also her choice. You know I don’t love that club but I do love you both and I supported you in your decision to open it. But, as for November, it will be her choice and her choice alone if she wants to help you out on the business side of the club. I'm not happy about the look on her face right now and I'm telling you both that you will let her make her own decision.”

  After Grandma says her peace, everything goes back to normal but I can still feel the tension between my dad and uncle. I want to work with my dad but I also don’t want to cause a problem between him and his brother.

  I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that my dad owns a strip club. When I imagine a strip club owner, I picture an evil, fat, old guy with beady eyes, tacky suits and a bad comb over. Not someone like my dad. He’s a kind, handsome, put-together, forty-five-year-old man.

  After pondering this for a few minutes, I realize that I am proud. Knowing my dad and the kind of man he is, I can’t help but think of the women who work for him and how lucky they are. In the stripper industry, I’m sure respect is hard to come by. But one thing I know for sure, he respects the women who work for him. So with these thoughts floating in my head, I turn and smile at my dad. He smiles back even bigger.