“What is it?”
“Something I want to show you.” I’m still looking at my phone, pulling up my TikTok and IG when he stands, guiding me by my hips over to the overstuffed brown velvet chair flanking the fireplace, and pulls me onto his lap.
“I don’t understand. Who is TutuDance—oh…”
“Please don’t be mad. I know Carter would never be happy with me doing this, but I need you to support me. I love making these videos and, well, I feel like I’m helping people.”
He nods, taking the phone from me and clicking through a few older videos. “This is amazing, baby. You did all this yourself?”
“I guess I just want to help girls be strong so they can protect themselves, you know? It doesn’t always have to be gyms and dojos, you can be any size, any shape, but you can still pack a punch. Thin and strong, curvy and strong, big and strong. You don’t have to choose…” I take the phone back from him and click through to a much more recent video, one I shot just a couple of days ago and haven’t had much chance to look at its stats. “Look at this one. It’s getting a lot of views. You can be elegant, you can dance, and you can also deliver a killer throat punch.”
I hand the phone back to him and he stares at the video, a little smile playing on his lips until it cuts to the punch, then he laughs. “I love it, baby. Of course I’ll support…”
He falls silent, a frown sliding onto his face, brows drawing together before he looks up at me.
“What is it?” I ask, coming around beside him. Then I see it.
“What the fuck is this?”
The comment is from a new account, posted just this morning, but I know who it is. You’re being naughty hiding from me. You know your little game is getting old. I’m coming. Sooner or later I’m coming. You’ll see.
I meet his eyes as he looks up from the screen, and the darkness I see there makes me draw back a little. “You get these troll accounts everywhere. I’ve blocked him before but he just makes new accounts.”
“He’s done this before? Who is he? I’ll fucking tear his limbs off.”
“I don’t know who he is.” I put a hand on his arm, trying to calm him, and hear the crack of his jaw as he shakes his head, fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “Please don’t worry about some internet troll. He can’t find me. I don’t give my actual city or any personal details. As far as anyone is concerned I could be living in Alaska a hundred miles from the nearest civilization. I only record at the home gym Carter built or in the other empty room he turned into my dance studio. Nothing identifies where I might be.”
“You’re sure?”
I nod. “I need you to support this, Daddy. Please. I need you backing me.”
He lets out a breath through his nose, and for a long moment I think he’s going to tell me no, forbid me from posting anymore videos and possibly take me up on that Alaska suggestion.
Then he grunts. “If I ever find out who he is, I’ll bury him so deep even the worms won’t find him.”
“Thank you.” I wrap my hands around his massive forearm, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t take this away from me. Carter would. He loves me and he wants what’s best, but…I guess sometimes I wish my mom was still around, not somewhere I’m not even sure where. If I’d shown her my TikTok, and the number of followers I have, she wouldn’t have tried to stop it. She would have tried to monetize it.”
I snort a laugh and Jack nods.
“I can understand wanting to follow your dreams. Look at me with the charter boats.” He meets my eyes, and I see a hint of pride there. “I started out with a boat that shouldn’t even have been allowed on the water. But I made it work. I’m here to help you with your dream, baby. And as for monetizing, I think we should look into that too. Do you miss your mom?”
I shrug. “I guess. I was a little pissed? Confused? When all the sudden she decided it was her turn to live her life, I guess I didn’t realize I was tying her down so much. I’m glad she’s happy.”
There’s a crazy look that takes over Jack’s face, and he looks like he wants to hurt someone or break something. I know he’s not the type of man to hit a woman, but right now I’m not sure, if my mom was here, what might happen.
We talk about other things as we eat and that safe, free feeling takes deeper root. Like I’m floating and walking on pink fluffy clouds without a care in the world.