Page 66 of Sir, Yes Sir

“You shut the fuck up,” he said, harsher than I’d ever heard him talk to her.

“Before you go losing your shit,” I murmured slowly, knowing that he was going to blow his top any second. “Remember that I’m a grown up, she’s a grown up, and everything that’s happened between us was consensual.”

Yamin blew out a long, low whistle of surprise, then, as predicted, Tommy came at me.

It was funny, but for a second there I thought that maybe he’d understand. Freya was twenty-one after all. I was edging up on forty, having just ignored my thirty-seventh birthday, but I was young enough, in good shape, and I could provide well for a woman, if she ever chose to stick around.

None of those things mattered to Tommy though. I might as well have been robbing a cradle, because he flew at me fists first, and I damn well let him.

I deserved it, after all.

“Dad!” Freya screamed, taking a couple hurried steps forward as Tommy tackled me back to the ground and started wailing on my ribs and face.

“C’mon, Tommy, get it out,” I encouraged with halting, pain-riddled breaths.

Blood dripped from my eyebrow and nose, my lips busted and swelling. It almost felt nice. Like home. Besides, he would never forgive me if he didn’t get the beating out of the way, first.

“I trusted you!” he screamed as I dodged a particularly nasty left hook. “How could you? She’s young enough to be your kid! You were supposed to be her brother!”

“Dad, you’re acting crazy!” Freya bit out, grabbing her father’s arm, but he threw her off, making her bounce off the wall behind her.

I growled in anger, because how fucking dare him push her around? If he wanted to beat me, that was fine. I could take it. I'd had worse and smiled through it. Freya was too precious to lay a hand against.

Yamin was by her side in a second while he watched me allow Tommy to draw blood and leave deep bruises.

“Stay out of it,” Yamin said, pulling her into his arms to hold her back while they watched on.

I didn’t mind the beating so much, and while I knew I could’ve stopped him, I also knew I wouldn’t. Only problem was, my vision was starting to go dark around the edges, making me realize that another headache was coming on. If I got another concussion…shit, that might be the end of me. My brain might swell so much my skull would pop like bubblegum.

“Dad, this is insanity! Stop hurting him!”

Freya’s voice had moved from angry to panicked, and that was when I realized that I should probably put an end to the tenderizing session.

“Please,” Freya wailed, and I saw her just past Tommy, pulling at Yamin’s arms, trying to come to me, which would’ve been a bad idea.

Tears burned salty trails down her cheeks, and her eyes had gone red with crying. It was odd, but the only thing I could think of was how fucking beautiful she looked right then.

“Please, Daddy, I love him!”

The room went silent, Tommy’s fist pausing mid-punch as he panted over me, already tuckered out.

“He’s your best friend! You can’t do this to him—”

“Not anymore,” Tommy interrupted her, lowering his bleeding fist.

He stood up, wobbling on his legs as I managed to roll to my side, spitting blood out of my mouth.

Did she really mean it?

Surely she was just saying what she needed to in order to make her father stop. She couldn’t—

Freya finally broke through Yamin’s hold and collapsed on the floor beside my head, her hands framing my face but not touching what probably looked like bloody ground beef at this point.

“What happened to fighting back?” she demanded, still crying as those fingers finally touched my bloody, broken face.

Tommy quickly found his feet again and leaned over to grab Freya.

“He needs help!” she yelped as he pulled her away, kicking and screaming.

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