Chapter 2a

"Hi, George! What'll it be tonight?" Josie asked with a wide grin.

"You on a plate, sweetheart," I replied with a matching grin. I visited the diner quite often for several weeks after finding the place by accident. I guess you could say I fell for the eighteen year old beauty the moment I saw her.

"Behave, dirty old man. How about a melt and fries? Jorge's got his secret sauce tonight," she responded seriously while her eyes betrayed flirtatious mischief.

"Sounds delicious," I said with a nod, my eyes centering on a grungy figure at the bar drilling holes into a petite teenage beauty alone at a booth across the way reading diligently.

"Josie, please tell Kaitlin to come sit with me. Now, dear," I said calmly. I wanted the innocent girls near me immediately. There was no question in my voice. Josie returned shortly thereafter with her sister in tow.

"Sweetie, sit with George for a bit, okay? He's a friend I wanted you to meet," Josie said softly before handing Kaitlin's backpack over to me.

"Are you hungry, Kaitlin?" I asked with a smile, and she nodded.

I turned to Josie, "Make it two."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a sideways glance, following my eyes. Her tension radiated outwards, Kaitlin noticing instantly.

"Jos, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, girls. I'll be right back," I whispered as I rose from my booth bench, gently but forcefully pressed Josie's shoulder until she fell into the warm seat. I hadn't expected it to happen so soon, the grungy figure fidgeting more nervously as the clock ticked the seconds past.

No sound resulted from the soles of my shoes connecting with the floor, each step careful and measured, the motion outwardly appearing as nothing more than a man trudging to the shallow hallway containing restrooms. As I passed the grungy figure, I stepped sideways, already past his peripheral vision, until I spoke quietly from the opposite side of his barstool.

"Something wrong, friend?" I asked in a calm tone, but I spoke quickly, sharpening the first syllable purposefully.

Surprise can do two things. It can derail any train of thought or it can pull a hair trigger that single millimeter until the hammer drops. The latter was my goal, and the grungy figure spun on the barstool towards me, his right hand, brandishing a Beretta 9mm, emerged from inside a well-worn coat in an attempt to lodge a slug of lead under my skin. The semi-automatic firearm never pointed my direction, having stopped while pointing directly at the bar wall under the countertop, an intentional direction to protect the public, as my right fist closed around the wrist of the hand wielding the weapon while my fingertips jabbed painfully into the tendons on the soft underside, crippling the hand attached to it. In the same instant, my left arm arced outward and upward, the fingers latching onto the grungy figure's greasy hair, the arc finishing when his face cracked against the countertop.

Once subdued in such a fashion, it required little effort to wrest the pistol from the grungy figure's hand and jerk his greasy hair backwards until he toppled off the barstool, the back of his head audibly thumping the tiled floor. I couldn't help but smile at the sound while I thoughtlessly emptied the chamber of the Beretta and slid the full clip into my open palm, quickly tucking both into my coat pocket and setting the pistol on the countertop.

I learned to expect the unexpected in the Service, but I certainly didn't expect Josie's arms clinging to me in that moment after my triumph over a common criminal. A fraction of a second after the grungy figure's head bounced off the tiles, she sprinted across the diner and latched onto me, and in just as short a time released me, her hands wandering every reachable inch of my clothed body to check for injuries. I grasped her shaking hands in mine and brought them to my chin, the action forcing her attention upwards, her own chin lifting and her eyes settling on mine.

"Go call the police, sweetheart. I'm fine. Go," I whispered with as tender a smile as I could manage.

The few patrons in the diner, oblivious to everything, barely noticed the physical exchange until the grungy figure's skull cracked against the tile. Once understanding sank in only moments later, cell phones appeared from the nearest denizens, an offering to Josie. Even today I wonder why they didn't dial 911 themselves. I'm told it was my commanding presence that directed them to follow orders and assist Josie in calling. Hands still shaking, she obediently retrieved one of the proffered devices to contact the authorities.

The conversation mattered little, so I grasped Josie's free hand and ushered her back to Kaitlin, wanting her to feel the comfort of her sister nearby while I stood above the grungy figure. He wouldn't be coherent enough to do much but groan, but diligence perseveres, so I remained close.

Sirens ricocheted off the surrounding buildings and flashing lights announced the arrival of several uniformed officers. Statements from every present body documented 'the heroics of a stranger.' Josie clutched my arm throughout the ordeal of recounting the events; adrenaline can do that. The ammunition from my coat pocket and the Beretta from the countertop clinked into a thick plastic bag before one of the officers scribbled a note on the label with a Sharpie and pushed through the rotating doorway and into the street to one of the squad cars.

Handshakes and respectful nods preceded the departure of the first responders. Shortly thereafter, I returned to my booth to find that Jorge, who spoke no English, had already delivered two patty melts with fries. I wondered later if he even knew why the police had been there, and if they cared that he was not legally occupying the role of Master Chef in the diner. I choose to believe he was thankful for his luck at going unnoticed.

"Eat, dear. It'll calm your nerves," I said to Kaitlin as she stared at the food before her, unsure of what to do with her eyes or hands in that moment, but she dutifully retrieved a French fry from the plate and nibbled it nervously. The taste on her lips was enough to spurn an empty tummy's desire to fill to the brim. Jorge's patty melts were quite good.

Josie glanced in our direction, at me and Kaitlin, over her shoulder, over the countertop from behind the bar and from the kitchen at every opportunity for the rest of the evening. I didn't leave the diner until they closed, the owner insisting that they remain open to demonstrate his resolve, not letting a common criminal impede serving his hungry customers or his profits even though I knew the entire place had little more than $500 cash within its walls.

The drive to Josie's house was short, her soft frame leaning against my side affectionately from the center of the bench seat in my rusty old Dodge pick-up while Kaitlin all but cowered against the passenger door. It wasn't the violence that produced her fear of me; it was the pleased smile at the sound of the grungy figure's cranium striking the floor. She saw in me a primal hunger for more of the same, and she hated me for it from that moment on. Even today she hates me for it though we speak often enough.

"George, help me get Kaitlin out of here. Please help me. She can't live like this. She doesn't deserve it, and I know you can help me save her," Josie begged, almost babbling, the moon reflecting in her tears.

It was a chilly night of early Winter; her hands were shaking from the cold. Without thought, I shrugged my coat off and covered her in it, my hands gripping the seams and holding it closed against her chest. She tilted her head, caressing her cheek against the brown denim shoulder of the garment in the same way that Jenny did so many times when I wrapped her in my coat many years before that moment. My heart melted.

"I don't know what I can do, sweetheart, but I promise you'll both be okay," I replied, tugging the unzipped seams of the coat forward so she fell against my chest with a girlish giggle. I knew she'd rush Kaitlin through the front door of their house and into her bedroom, I knew Kaitlin would quickly lock the numerous mechanisms from the inside, and I knew that Josie would find herself subject to the anger of her father, a man so much like my own dearly departed forebear. Furthermore, I knew she would be subject to the whims of his companions should any be present upon her arrival. I knew she would subject herself to a beating or rape, as she did most nights, to protect her sister. What Josie endured to safeguard Kaitlin's innocence and bring forth her salvation was nothing short of hell. The memories of my foster hells paled in comparison.

Child Protective Services never removed the girls from their parents' care. I never understood how two motherless teenage girls were deemed safe under the guardianship of an abusive, alcoholic trustee of modern chemistry for a father with numerous kindred spirits for family friends, but the state of California saw no reason to remove them. I did.

"Just take us with you, George. I'll do anything you want, anything," she said, the final word whispered as she resorted to the only method of persuasion she understood, a hand against the fly of my jeans.

"That won't be necessary, Josie," I said gently but firmly, pushing her hand away from my groin. "If I do this, Kaitlin will fear and hate me forever. You know that, right?"

"She'll be safe, George. That's all that matters. If she hates you for eternity, I'll love you enough for both of us. She's all that matters," she said, a hint of anger in her quavering voice.

"You're wrong, sweetheart. You matter just as much as she does," I replied calmly. "I need you to understand that what I'm going to do eventually will be violent, but more importantly I need you to understand who I am. I run a prostitution outfit, Josie. I'm basically a pimp, no better than the animals you're trying to escape."

"No, George. You're wrong. You're not a pimp. Last week you told me about what you do, and I know being with you is the safest place on the planet. Kaitlin can hate you all she wants, but I love you!" she squealed, her eyes misting as she began and dribbling tears as she finished, shoulders jumping from the force of gentle sobs.

"Okay, okay, shhhhh, little one," I cooed, my nose pressed into her soft hair and my lips pressing a soft kiss against the top of her head. "You know you don't have to work for me to pay any debts. If I take you home with me, it's because there are two girls that need help, not because I want to sell you. There's a reason my girls call me Daddy."

"I know, Daddy," she whispered. It was all I needed to hear. Josie pried herself from my arms with a strength of will I've rarely seen in anyone, dried her eyes on the sleeve of my coat and strode confidently towards the truck, Kaitlin staring through the window at the scene and shivering despite the running engine and warm air blowing noisily through the old vents. I could not understand the words, but I knew the direction of the conversation. Josie was telling Kaitlin that they were going to a new home, to live with me, and Kaitlin was protesting out of fear. It was the one time I ever saw Josie raise a hand to her baby sister, but it quieted the girl's objections.

Once Kaitlin understood, even if only partially, that her future was under my control, she cried, but she did so quietly while Josie held her. The minutes seemed like hours as I steered the truck towards home, the only words spoken by any of us being a quick call to Kirin and Jenny to announce visitors, the purpose of the call meant to make the house presentable to innocent eyes.

After such a dauntingly eventful night, Josie and Kaitlin succumbed to exhaustion. The grand tour of their new home could wait until morning. After a quick introduction to Kirin and Jenny, the girls were quickly ushered into a comfortable bedroom on the far eastern wing of the large house, given fresh toiletries, clean sheets and bid goodnight. Josie glanced longingly into my eyes as Jenny closed the door, but I knew Kaitlin needed her that night. Questions needed to wait for morning.

"Is that them, Daddy?" Kirin whispered, Jenny turning to face us after locking the bedroom door to secure our visitors for the night.

"Yes, baby, that's them," I replied with a nod, my fingertips caressing Kirin's cheek, her head tilting to the side to nuzzle against my palm. "She finally asked."

"Daddy, Kaitlin can't stay here. She's terrified of you," Jenny stated firmly.

"I know," I said, again nodding, this time in resignation. "If she'll let me, or rather if Josie can convince her, I want to put her into a private school."

"I like that idea," Kirin offered. "Maybe I could talk to her in the morning."