"I mind," I said.
She giggled, turned red, and looked away. "I'm so sorry."
I reached out and touched her knee. I had to be gentle with this one. Her social savvy wasn't quite up to par, either.
"It's okay," I said. "It's just a very fresh wound that I don't want to talk about right now. You did nothing wrong."
She nodded vigorously. I patted her knee. She looked at me, nodded again, then looked down. She was so unsure of herself. So lost. So helpless. How could anyone hurt this girl? God, I already hated her ex-husband with a fucking passion.
"Sam, can I ask you a question?"
I smiled. "Sure, sweetie."
"Can I, you know, ask how you're going to protect me?" Nervous giggle. "Is that okay to ask?"
"It's okay," I said, patting her knee reassuring, much as I would my own daughter. And the thought of my daughter - and the possibility of not seeing her or Anthony this Saturday night - nearly brought me to tears. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and said, "You are either going to be with me, or with someone I trust. You will always be protected."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She pursed her lips. "Who are your friends?"
"Good men. Honorable men. I trust them with my life. They will protect you when I'm not around."
"Why would you not be around?"
"Sometimes I have...business to attend to."
She nodded. She understood business. "And one of your friends is coming over now?"
"Yes," I said.