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“Tyler! I’m so sorry—he’s bothering you,” she said, rushing over. The men noticed the heavy makeup on her wrist, smudged enough to reveal bruises beneath.
“No bother at all, ma’am,” Big Mike said softly, standing to his full, towering height. “Actually, why don’t you both sit with us? We were just about to order dessert. Our treat.”
The woman hesitated but finally sat, pulling Tyler close. Mike leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “Is someone hurting you or your boy?”
Her composure cracked. Tears filled her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “You don’t understand. He’ll kill us.”
Her silent, trembling nod was all the confirmation they needed.