He didn't need another answer. He was trusting me. I drove us to a building in the red-light district in town. James was obviously confused. I stopped...the car in front of fancy strip club. He looked over. "Don't tell me you... , " he started. I grinned and answered: "Yes, James, I used to work here. Not for very long at all though." He shook his head and got out of the car to come over and open mine. I heard a few admiring whistles and even more nasty comments. I was tough and this didn't. “Did you call the police?” Paul asked knowing the answer even before asking the question.“She’s my daughter.”“She might be your daughter, but you’ve stopped being her mother. You’ve become her punching bag,” Paul said in a matter of fact voice.He was concerned for her, but he didn’t feel any sympathy for her. She was a willing victim. As far as he was concerned, a willing victim got exactly what he or she was looking for. Judy was the perfect willing victim.“I can’t let her go back to. More

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