Bred in Daddy's Handcuffs(4)

At one point, a couple menacing looking teens in basketball jerseys ran across the road. Daddy honked and gritted his teeth.

One of the boys flashed his dark eyes at us, as if to say, What the hell are you doing here? You don't belong in this place.

My skin began to crawl as we drove deeper, rumbling through neighborhoods with houses that had seen better times sometime in the distant past. The patchy yards were a mess.

Some of the dilapidated homes looked abandoned, but then I saw people playing in the yards. Kids, even.

“I can't believe they have to live like this all the time. It's terrible, Daddy.”

He looked over at me and smiled. For an instant, the sweet, charitable girl I'd been in my early teens had returned, casting the naughty brat aside.

“Well, we do what we can to keep these areas safe. It's certainly a rough life. Out here, it's the law of the jungle, and some folks who used to be just like you and I are homeless. Or worse.”

I shuddered, eying a man in torn jeans laying on the sidewalk. He rolled onto his side, laughing up at the wide blue sky, hysterically giggling at something no one else could see.

Jesus. I know I like to have my fun, but I'm never going to get into the kind of crap that gets people here.

Maybe that's Daddy's idea all along. He's teaching me a lesson.

I looked over at him, face tense. I studied the gentle, strong outline of his face, wondering how many lessons – plural – he hoped to teach me during this ride along.

“I never want to end up here,” I said.

If I gave him exactly what he wanted to hear – and showed him I was honest about it, for the most part – maybe he'd take us away from these sickening places sooner.

“I won't let you,” he shot back. “No daughter of mine is going to end up in one of these hellholes. Besides, your mother would kill me from the grave if I let you.”

I smiled, warmed by his concern, but awash in the melancholy sadness that came anytime he mentioned Mom. It was rare these days.

He'd only been remarried to her for a few years when tragedy struck.

Daddy had taken over after my mysterious biological father disappeared. He'd probably come from a place like this, and I'd never known him. Neither had my mother for very long.

I was only twelve years old, dipping my first foot into womanhood, when she left us. The semi-truck that claimed her one morning on the way to work turned our world upside down.

Daddy took over everything after that. He raised me just like his own daughter, firm and misty eyed at her memory.

I think he felt like it was his duty to give me a fair shake at the good life, but he also cared, damn it. He cared each time he tucked me in, fed me coconut popsicles while I was sick, and showed up to cheer me on when I played soccer.

I wasn't a great student, but I was no fool either. Sometimes, I wondered if Mom's sudden death had given me such dark fantasies about the only man who loved me unconditionally in this world.

The same man I acted out on now, secretly wishing he'd throw me against the wall, strip my pants down my legs, and take the virginity that belonged to him more than anyone else.

After everything I'd put him through, he deserved it...

“Been about four hours,” he said. “I think we're due for a lunch break soon. What do you say we get the hell out of here?”

I nodded enthusiastically. A great weight lifted off my shoulders as soon as the car turned onto the main road, the street that would lead us toward civilization and out of this heartwrenching desolation.

We were almost to the business district when Daddy spotted him. A scruffy guy with a wool cap on his bald head, flashing his silver teeth as he passed a small bag into a teenager's hand.#p#分页标题#e#

“Hold on, Rachel. Here we go. Stay in the car and let me do my thing.”

My heart began to pound. Before I fully knew what was happening, his lights sputtered to life, casting their red and blue glow through the daytime shadows.

The drug dealer's face twisted when he spotted us and he started to run. My teeth chattered as Daddy forced the car over the curb and threw it in park.

He rushed out and didn't bother to close his door, in hot pursuit of the man who'd been caught red handed. My jaw dropped, amazed at how fast he could run for a man pushing past forty, his taut muscles pumping wonderfully beneath his uniform.

The thug was fast, but not quick enough. About a block from the car, Daddy lunged and grabbed him by the shoulders, slamming him onto the ground.

His handcuffs and taser were out right away.

The man gave up as soon as the handcuffs had locked his hands behind his back. Daddy carefully slipped the weapon into his holster and walked him to the car.

I smelled his raw breath, even from the backseat. I looked at Daddy curiously, wondering why he hadn't started driving.