Daddys Angel Ch 01

Thanks to Aspen_Camp for her help editing and her insight.

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Hank was hanging out at Billy's Pub. It was a hole in the wall, located on the wrong side of the river. The booze was shitty, the place never saw a mop, and the bartenders were surly. Hank looked out of place. Most of the customers wore grubby jeans and work shirts. There were several bearded men wearing biker cuts. Meanwhile, Hank was sporting a blue silk shirt, grey slacks and polished black loafers. He was clean-cut, with a shaved head and no facial hair. The only reason Hank would frequent the joint was the arm-wrestling table. Patrons would place bets and the gladiators would compete. It wasn't exactly safe or legal, but Billy's hadn't been shut down yet.

The reigning champion at Billy's was Derek Doyle. Derek was 6'4, " 300 pounds of pure muscle. He was big and brash. Derek loved to pick fights with people who were smaller than him. Hank hated bullies, and truly hoped that someone would beat Derek at his own game.

Shortly after 10pm, a young woman, not more than 25 years old, entered the bar. She had a natural beauty about her. Short, maybe 5'1" tall, with chestnut brown hair in a disheveled ponytail down to her mid-back. Olive-tan skin that suggested Southern Italian or Greek Island heritage. She had a pronounced, square and muscular jaw that only women who juiced could obtain. Her cheekbones were prominent. She had the cutest button-nose that Hank had ever seen. She was wearing a tattered and dirty dark brown sweat-shirt and sweatpant combo that clearly needed to be washed. It was obvious that she hadn't bathed in a while.

Derek had just defeated some frat-boy at the table, and downed a pint in celebration. "Any more assholes think they can beat me?" he shouted to the bar.

With a powerful alto, unexpected coming from someone of her size, the new girl shouted, "five hundred bucks says I'll wash the floor with you."

Derek turned to look at the girl and laughed. "You stupid, dirty, cunt! You think you can beat me?! Easiest five hundred bucks I'll ever make! Get over here!" he shouted, motioning to the table. Unintimidated, the woman walked up to the table, sat down, and placed her right hand up in the customary pose. Derek chuckled and matched her.

The patrons were abuzz with activity, placing bets. The young woman was the clear underdog, with wagers being called 20:1 against her. Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. "One thousand dollars on the girl beating Derek. Any takers?"

The seventy or so patrons all began shouting at once. Odds changed. Did this guy know something they didn't?

"I'll take that bet!" Derek bellowed, noticing the change in the tenor of the room. With that, the combatants began their trial. Derek pressed immediately, sure that he could end this little exercise in short order. His face turned to a grimace when he realized that he hadn't budged the girl's arm one bit. The young woman, for her part, was grinding her teeth, with her lips pulled back, focused entirely on her right arm. Derek adjusted, centered his strength, and began pushing in earnest. He knew that this wasn't going to be an easy match, but it was one that he was going to win. After about three minutes, and with more effort than he thought that he should have expended, Derek brought the girl's hand down to the table, shouting his triumph.

"You lost, you dirty cunt! Give me my money!" he bellowed. The girl was stunned. From her expression it was clear both that she didn't expect to lose, and that she didn't have $500 to give to Derek. Derek reached out, grabbed her throat with his right hand, and began squeezing. "You better have my money, bitch!" The girl was choking and sputtering.

"I've got it. She gave it to me to hold before the match," shouted Hank. Hank tossed the $1000 roll and fished out another $500 from his pocket and slammed it on the table in front of Derek.

"Cunt just got lucky," Derek said, releasing the girl's throat. She coughed for a moment, catching her breath. She looked at the man who had paid her ransom, grabbed the tattered backpack next to the table and bolted out of the door.

Hank quickly paid his tab and rushed out of the bar, hoping to catch sight of the girl as she made a hasty retreat. He didn't immediately see her, but he heard an agonized scream, then a thud that sounded like metal denting. The sound came again. It seemed to come from the alley behind the bar. Hank carefully walked around the building, and found the disheveled girl screaming, crying, and punching the dumpster behind the bar, making serious dents in the metal. After five more hits, the strong young woman collapsed next to the dumpster and began sobbing quietly to herself.

He walked up to her, extending his hand. "Hi. I'm Hank."

She sniffled back her tears. "Angel," she said. "Thanks for covering my debt. You didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing. I really wanted you to beat Derek."

"I know. You would have made a lot of money," Angel responded.

"It isn't about the money. Derek's a bully. I wanted to see him beaten at his own game," replied Hank. "Can I get you a taxi?"

"I don't have anywhere to go. And I couldn't afford a taxi anyway," said Angel.

"You've been sleeping rough?" asked Hank.

"For about the last three weeks, since my car was towed. I needed that $500 to get my car out of the impound lot," Angel answered.

"My apartment is just four blocks away, across the river. How about you come and spend the night. No hanky panky. You'd have your own bed. I'll make you dinner, and you can take a shower," said Hank.

Angel looked up at him, appraising. He was just a little taller than her, maybe 5'4". And she probably outweighed him by twenty pounds. He was also older than her by at least twenty years. She could take him if it came to blows.

"Okay, but I'm not going to have sex with you," she said.

"I wasn't going to ask. I'm old enough to be your father," Hank replied, offering his hand to help her up.

Angel cocked her head and gave him a strange look before taking the hand that was offered.

They began walking, and Hank started the conversation. "You did pretty well against Derek. I've been going to Billy's Pub for a while, and I can't recall anyone presenting Derek with as much of a threat as you did tonight. But the guy has to have at least two hundred pounds and a foot and a half on you. Why did you challenge him?"

"Honestly? Mostly desperation. I need $500 to get my car out of impound. I took the last dose of my cycle this morning, and I was feeling strong. And he's an asshole. I wanted to take him down a peg or two," said Angel.

"Your car's been towed and you're buying 'roids instead of getting your car back?" Hank asked.

"It's not like that. It was a six-week cycle that I bought more than two months ago. My situation has changed a little bit since then," said Angel.

They walked across the bridge and down the street. The buildings became taller. Soon, Hank stopped in front of the glass doors of a skyscraper. "This is us," he said, leading Angel into the lobby.

Angel was awestruck. It was a beautiful building. Marble floors, columns, sconces, gilded trimmings.

"Good evening, Mr. Miller," greeted the concierge.

"Hi Brian. Heads up that Fred is going to pick me up tomorrow around 9am. Could you please call the elevator?"

"No problem, sir. The elevator is here, and everything will be set for your transport tomorrow," Brian responded.

"This way, Angel," said Hank, leading her away from the main bank of elevators.

Hank took Angel to a single elevator behind the concierge desk. It opened as they approached. They walked into the elevator, and Angel remarked, "there's just one button. What is 'PH'?"

"Penthouse," said Hank.

It took two minutes for the elevator to take them up to the 64th floor. Angel stared up at the quickly ascending numbers on the elevator display as they took the ride in silence. With a ding, the doors opened into the living room of a grand apartment.

"Right this way," said Hank, leading Angel into the penthouse apartment.

"You don't have a door? The elevator opens right into your apartment?" Angel asked, not quite believing the situation.

"The elevator is the door. I don't need a key because Brian downstairs is the only one who can open the elevator. He knows my face," replied Hank.

"This place is MASSIVE!" Angel said, looking around. "Yeah," said Hank, "It's a great downtown retreat. There are six bedrooms. Let me show you where you'll be bunking tonight. You'll have your own bathroom and shower. Here's a robe that you can use. I'll throw your clothes into the washing machine so they'll be clean when you change into them. The fridge is fairly well stocked. I can make us a chicken and veggie stir-fry while you get cleaned up."

"That sounds amazing," said Angel, captivated by the luxury of her surroundings.

Thirty minutes later, Angel emerged from the guest room, clean and wearing the robe provided. She made her way to the kitchen. Hank had just put her clothes into the dryer and was executing the finishing touches on dinner.

As they tucked in to eat, Angel asked "Why are you helping me? You clearly don't need anything that I can give."

"I hate bullies," said Hank. "I was a small kid. I'm still relatively small at 5'4". I was bullied horribly from the fourth grade on. Each day from 4th grade through 12th was a never-ending buffet of chocolate swirlies, nuclear wedgies, being stuffed in lockers. Once, in eighth grade, some kids trapped me in a locker on a Friday, and I wasn't let out until the next Monday. My parents called the police looking for me, but the police chief's son was the one who put me there. There wasn't going to be any justice. There were even a few times in ninth and tenth grade when the football team got together to beat me up and then they all took turns pissing on me in the boys' locker room. I've done well since then, of course. University was liberating. I was able to look past my horrid experiences as a youth. I've amassed tremendous wealth. There aren't many bullies that can meaningfully hurt me now. In any case, my experiences have informed my desires. I'm drawn to strong, muscular women. Probably because of some primal need for protection. I'm not a psychologist, but there we are. I saw you challenge Derek and deep in my bones I wanted you to succeed. I wanted a beautiful, strong woman to take down the vile bully."

Angel had stopped chewing her food as she listened to Hank speak. A tear ran down her cheek as she empathized with his story.

"I'm keeping you from your food. Please eat!" Hank implored. Angel began chewing slowly, considering what she'd heard.

When her plate was empty, Hank asked, "So what's your story? How did I find such an amazing young woman in such dire straits?"

"I'm not so amazing," said Angel. "My father was a wonderful man. He was kind and strong, and he loved me and my mother. He died of cancer when I was eight years old. My mother was young and lonely. She remarried to a disgusting man named Tommy. Tommy would get drunk every day, beat and rape my mother and then beat and rape me. It happened like clockwork. 8pm would be my mother's turn, and at 9pm he would come into my room and beat and violate me. I cried to my mother so many times. I told her that he hurt me, but she begged me to be silent, for fear that the beatings would get worse. From the time I was nine years old until I escaped at 15, that was my daily routine. I ran away and I was done with being raped and beaten. I vowed to myself that I would become so strong that no one could force themselves on me. That I could beat the shit out of any rapists, wife beaters or child molesters with my own two hands. I started working out at the local Y just after I ran away. They had free admission for minors, and there were social workers who helped me get my GED. I'd learned a ton about fitness and weight training there, and when I was 18 I was able to get a job as a personal trainer at a local gym. I was ecstatic! I could work out for free, and people were paying me to be strong, and to help them become strong. It was working out so well, until a year ago when the gym closed. I had a hard time finding another gym that would hire me. I only have a GED, and most gyms look for trainers with more qualifications. I kept myself in shape with calisthenics and cardio, and I knew a guy that would sell me steroids on occasion. When I couldn't pay rent, I was kicked out of my apartment. I was living in my car for a while, but it was towed. For the last three weeks, I've been going from shelter to soup kitchen, trying to find a way to get my car back. I'd heard that people would gamble on arm-wrestling at Billy's and I took a chance. I'm pretty strong, so I figured what do I have to lose?"

Angel began quietly sobbing. "I just don't know what my way out is."

"Will you let me offer you a way out?" Hank asked. "Stay here tonight, and then come with me to my house in the morning. Let me present you with an offer and then you can decide what is best for you. No strings attached."

Angel looked at him with that same quizzical stare from earlier in the evening. "What do you mean 'come with you to your house'? Where are we now?"

"This is just my downtown retreat. I come here when I'm in the city for a restaurant or a show. The main house is north of town, 45 minutes by car."

"Huh," said Angel. "Okay. We're leaving at 9am tomorrow?"

"Yep. Please excuse me while I make a phone call." With that, Hank took out his cell phone and clicked a few buttons. "Hi Abby....Yes...I'm bringing a guest with me....have a guest suite ready....Fred should pick us up at 9am....and I'll want to talk to Tali tomorrow around 11am....Yes....Thanks."

With that, they both went to their separate bedrooms.

At 7:30 the next morning, Hank knocked on Angel's door. "I'm making spinach and mushroom omelets for breakfast. Care to join me?"

"I'm getting up!" Angel shouted back through the door.

As she sat down for breakfast with Hank, Angel had changed back into her now-clean sweats.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Like a baby!" Angel replied, scarfing down her breakfast. "This is delicious! Do you cook often?"

"It's a hobby, nothing more," Hank said. "Unfortunately, I don't have the time to truly master it."

"You could have fooled me," Angel said.

When they finished breakfast, Hank gestured to his non-existent watch. "It's 8:55. Time to meet Fred."

"Downstairs to the car?" Angel asked.

"Not quite," Hank said. "This time, we're going upstairs." He led Angel to another elevator that took them to the roof, where a helicopter awaited them on the building's helipad. "The house is 45 minutes by car, but only 15 minutes by air. I hope you don't mind."

Angel squealed with delight, bouncing up and down. "I've never been in a helicopter before!" she exclaimed.

They got in, put on their headsets, and Hank spoke into the microphone. "Hi Fred, take us home please." And they were off.

12 minutes later, they were approaching the compound that Hank called home. It was a sprawling mansion with ancillary buildings on 230 acres of land. The helicopter descended onto a pad close to the main house.

"Got your things?" Hank asked. "Good, let's go home."

They exited the helicopter and were greeted by the most beautiful woman that Angel had ever seen. She was a little taller than Hank at 5'6", of Asian ancestry, and slender, except for her prominent breasts. Angel couldn't quite place her age, but she seemed to be in her late 20s or early 30s. She wore a navy-blue power suit and moderately high heels. The whole ensemble gave off a vibe of a capable and beautiful woman. Angel liked her immediately.

"Welcome home, Mr. Miller," she shouted above the cacophony of the helicopter. Offering her hand to Angel, she introduced herself. "I'm Abby."

"Angel," she replied, giving Abby's hand a firm shake.

"Good grip!" Abby said, surprised.

"Abby is my right-hand and Vice President and Chief Operations Officer of Miller Holdings," Hank said to Angel. "She handles all of the day-to-day tasks that allow me to focus on the bigger picture." Hank led them inside, away from the noisy helicopter.

As they moved into the house, Abby said, "I've prepared the conference room for your morning meetings."

Angel couldn't help but remark, "This place is a palace!" as she took in the marble and gilded nature of her surroundings.

Hank responded, "We'll give you the full tour later. For now, let's head to the conference room."

The conference room was impressive, with a massive 8'x8' screen on one wall and a large boardroom table that could seat twenty people. Hank sat at the head of the table, with Angel and Abby taking seats on either side of him. Abby pulled out a pad of paper and prepared to take notes.

Hank began by addressing Angel, "I'd like to help you get back on your feet. The first order of business is to get your car back. What is the make and model, and where was it when it was towed?"

Angel replied, "It's a 1992 gray Ford Taurus. It was parked by Washington Avenue and Main Street."

Hank turned to Abby, "Have the boys from the garage find out where it was towed to, and get it. Pay any fines that need to be paid, and make sure there are no liens on the title. Have them change the oil, tune up the engine, and make sure there's a full tank of gas. Have them detail it while they're at it. If there are any clothes in the car, have them give them to the housekeeping staff to wash and press. Once the car is ready, park it in front and make sure Angel has the keys."

Angel was in awe as she listened. "Wow! Thank you!"

Hank smiled, "You're my guest. I want you to be able to come and go as you please. And really, this is only the start. I'd like you to be my guest in this house for as long as you'd like. Abby has already made sure that you have a suite of rooms at your disposal. We have a fully-equipped gym with all the machines, free-weights, and cardio equipment that you could find in the best commercial gyms. There are also indoor and outdoor swimming pools, and miles of paths and trails through the gardens and forest areas. Take some time to relax, exercise in a gym again, and feel healthy."

Hank turned to Abby once more, "Make sure Angel has some 'walking-around' money. Get her a debit card and put a thousand dollars a week on it."

Angel couldn't believe what she was hearing. "This is too generous," she said.

Hank dismissed her concerns, "Nonsense. I have it, and you need it more than I do. Use it for whatever you like. The only real condition that I have for this money is that you are not to spend it on back-alley steroids. There is no way to be sure of the quality or concentration. One bad batch can land you in the morgue."

Angel's enthusiasm was dampened by this condition, "Okay."

Hank quickly reassured her, "That wasn't meant to chastise you. If you truly want to achieve your goals of becoming so strong that no one could force themselves on you, there are better ways to do it. Which brings me to the heart of my proposal. I would like to help you achieve this goal. I would like to have you train here. Strength training, endurance, parkour, martial arts, tactics. If you decide to take me up on my offer, you can dedicate yourself to these pursuits. When you feel ready to decide, let me know either way. If you choose to leave, you should have a decent amount on your debit card to begin your new life wherever you like. For today, just relax.

"Abby, please show Angel where her rooms are and give her a tour of the house, including the gym. When that's done, take her shopping for workout clothes and everyday, business, and formal attire. Also, stop by a sports nutrition store and purchase whatever protein, supplements, and vitamins Angel wants, at least a month's supply," Hank said.