I heard a little lisping voice cry out, “He’s not my daddy!”

My heart stopped for a beat. There were only a few other people in the store, but every one of them could’ve got the senior discount at Teddy’s theater without showing I.D.

The man turned around and tried to say something to defend himself, but I barely heard. This was exactly the kind of situation I’d taken self-defense classes for. It was the kind of thing I ran mental exercises for in the shower. What would I do if someone tried to kidnap a kid in front of me?

I took a few quick breaths, trying to calm my nerves as I got a tighter grip on my purse. Thankfully, I was planning to cash some coins in at the bank later, so my purse was feeling particularly beefy. The man was much, much bigger than me, but I’d have the element of surprise.

My heart hammered against my chest. I could feel hot blood pumping through me like lava, preparing my mostly untrained body for the moment of attack.

I crept closer, inching around an aisle and using a display of potato chips as cover to get within a few steps of him. Then I saw him reach for a little boy who clapped his hands to his face and screamed.

They need my help. The thought came with a clenching of every single muscle I was able to clench. Every. Muscle.

I took a few more quick breaths, then rushed forward and swung my purse overhand at the man. He turned just in time to catch it square in the cheek instead of the back of his head.

I saw it all in slow motion. The graceful arc of my attack zipping through the dusty air in the shop. The shockwave of his skin where the edge of my purse met his cheek. The furious surprise in his dreamboat eyes…

Time returned to normal, and all the sights and sounds came along with it.

Suddenly I was standing there with a purse in my hand that I’d just used to smack a stranger in the face. The stranger was tall. So tall. He was gorgeous, angry, and glaring right down at me.

He staggered backwards and both the kids stopped yelling. The little girl squeezed his leg. “Sorry, daddy!” she said over and over.

“Dad, I didn’t–” the little boy said.

Dad? “You said he wasn’t…” I muttered.

“What the hell is going on?” McDermit asked. He’d come out from behind the desk and the three old ladies were all cowering behind him like they were expecting a bomb to go off.

The man’s face was covered by his big hand. He tilted his head back and let out an irritated growl. When he lowered his hand, I saw an already-forming red welt just below his eye. “That was their idea of a joke,” he said. He had a deep voice that rumbled through my chest.