2006, Corri is ten years old

"Hey, Corri. Did you have a good day at school?" Big Mike beamed as I trudged through the front door of the gym.

"It was fine," I sighed, barely glancing in his direction on my way to Dad's office.

Once inside, I collapsed into his big, spinning leather chair. I swallowed back tears, thinking about what had happened at school. Part of me wanted to tell Dad what Jimmy Patterson had done and part of me just didn't want to make him mad at me. 

After thinking about a little while longer, I decided to pull out my reading book and get started on my homework. My dad would never let me come out onto the gym floor without completing my assignments first. And today I didn't care because I didn't want to see anyone anyway. 

"Corri?"

I felt a gentle nudge to my shoulder and slowly lifted my drowsy head. I blinked up at my father as he stood beside me. His big arms were barely contained in the sleeves of his t-shirt. I had seen enough dads at my school to know my dad was handsome. He had just the tiniest amount of gray on the temple of his full head of dark hair. We looked nothing alike. I had seen enough photos of my mom to know I looked exactly like her.

When I smiled up at my dad, his own smile turned into a frown of concern. "What happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but when I felt a trickle of warm liquid leaking from my nose, I knew he knew. Quickly he snatched a couple of tissues from the box on his desk and held them to my injured nose. "Who did this?" he demanded.

I took the tissues from him and rushed from his desk to the small restroom attached to his office. I left the door open even though all I wanted to do was hide. Dad showed up a few minutes later with an ice pack and once I had stopped bleeding, he wanted answers. 

I knew better than to lie, because he would figure out the truth, so I told him what was going on. "There's a boy, Daddy. He's been bullying me."

My eyes slid to my father and I could see he was trying to calm himself. He kept quiet and let me finish speaking. "It just started off with him calling me names, making fun of my clothes, but then it got worse. He told me my mom left because I was too ugly to look at."

"And today?" he asked through gritted teeth.

I could feel the corners of my eyes burning with unshed tears. I swallowed back the huge lump in my throat and continued. "Today he shoved me on the playground. I tripped and fell into the fence."

"And no one from the school called me?" He was tense and his voice got louder with each word.

"I didn't tell anyone," my small voice replied. "The teacher didn't see it happen. When I got back to the classroom and my nose started to bleed, she sent me to the nurse. But I didn't tell her either."

"The nurse should have called me."

"I told her not to. I said I tripped and I guess she believed it."

Dad guided me back out to his office and I watched as he sunk into his leather chair. "I need a name, Corri."

"No, Dad. I don't want you calling the school and making a big scene."

He was incensed. His face turned red and that big vein in his neck throbbed. "No daughter of mine is gonna be treated like a punching bag and no punk like him will get away with it. Do you hear me?"

In a flash, my dad was gathering our things and rushing us down the hall towards the front door. I pulled on his arm before we could exit and I pleaded with him with my big hazel eyes. "Don't call the school or the principal. Don't make a scene."

"I can't do nothing."

"You can do something," I urged. "Teach me to fight."

My father argued with me all the way home, but the next morning over breakfast, he agreed to train me. We started that day after school. Luckily I had managed to avoid my bully by faking a stomach ache when it was time to go outside. But I wouldn't be able to do that for long.

Dad showed me how to stand, how to avoid a punch, the best way to block and all the best places to hit a guy where it hurt. We were getting some strange looks from the other fighters and a few of them were even teasing Dad about putting me on the next roster. He blew them off and kept focused on me. I knew he didn't agree with what I wanted. He wanted to handle it himself but I was determined to never let another boy hurt me.

"Hey, Beau!" My father called out to the boy who had come to hang out while his dad trained. I had met him before and found him to be quiet and observant. He was a little taller than I was but not much heavier. He jogged over to the mats where my father and I had been practicing my kicks. 

I stood there watching as my dad placed his hands on Beau's shoulders and asked him a question. Beau's eyes went wide as he glanced around my father and stared at me. "No way! She's a girl. I would never…"

"Come on, kid. It would really help me out."

 "No! You'd beat my ass if I hurt her," Beau reasoned.

Dad stepped behind Beau and held his shoulders while he guided Beau to stand in front of me. "All I want you to do is swing on her. I mean, she's gonna hit you, so be prepared."

Beau's brow furrowed as he looked me over. My knuckles were covered in heavy tape and the loose hairs that had escaped my ponytail were damp with sweat. He shuffled his feet a bit and shrugged. 

"She just needs someone closer to her size to spar with and you're it, kid."

Beau reluctantly agreed and when he lifted his fists and moved into a fighting stance, my mind went blank. He reared back and sent a punch into my left side, sending me stumbling back. I doubled over and tried to catch my breath. 

"Oh God...Oh God…" Beau muttered as he closed in on me. "I'm sorry, Corri."

The moment I saw his feet in front of me, it all clicked. I jerked my head up quickly and plowed into him. He gasped as we tumbled onto the mat with me on top. I swung my arms in a frenzy, landing punches to his torso and face. He covered himself as best as he could but I was enraged. I only stopped when my father grabbed me up by my mid-section and tore me off of him.

"She's crazy!" Beau spat. "Stay away from me!"

My father and I burst out laughing when Beau retreated to the locker room with his father following closely behind. I felt vindicated even though I had yet to face my bully. 

Jimmy Patterson had no idea what was in store for him.

"Charlie!"

I glanced up from behind the bag I was holding to see Big Mike with the corded wall phone in hand. "You got a call!"

I knew it had to be important. Mike knew better than to interrupt me with some nonsense while I was training one of my boxers. I jogged over and took the receiver from his meaty hand. "Armstrong here," I grumbled into the phone.

"Mr. Armstrong…" a timid voice inquired. "This is Miss Allgood, from Jackson Elementary. The principal, Mr. Davis needs you to come to his office as soon as you can."

"Is Corri okay?" I blurted, my stomach twisting with worry.

"Oh yes, of course. But there has been an incident he needs to discuss with you."

"What incident?" I demanded, refusing to spend the drive over letting my imagination run wild.

"Well, sir...your daughter…"

"Yes?" I prompted.

"She's been in a fight."

That was all I needed to hear. I let the phone fall from my hands before rushing out the door and into my pick-up truck. The traffic around me was nothing more than a blur as I'm sure I broke many laws speeding to get to my little girl. I kept picturing her bloody nose from last week and cursing myself for not calling the principal as soon as I found out that some punk was harassing her.

I flung myself out of my truck and raced up the steps of the school, waiting impatiently to be buzzed in by the secretary. I didn't exchange any pleasantries with the woman when I saw her nervously tucked behind a big oak desk. "Where's my daughter?" I blurted.

"Mr. Armstrong, if you would have stayed on the line while I explained…"

"Where?" I ground out, in no mood to hear what she had to say. My eyes needed to see that my little girl was safe or there was no telling what I would do next. 

"Dad?"

I spun around when I heard her call out to me. Relief flooded me when I saw she didn't have a mark on her. She frowned up at me with concern when the door behind us swung open. "There you are, Mr. Armstrong. We've been waiting."

I turned to scowl at the little weasel himself. Daniel Davis and I had gone all through school together and I was no more impressed with him today than I was 15 years ago. When I turned back to reach for Corri's hand, I saw three more people entering the small office space. A man, a woman, and a boy who looked like he had been taken to task. His lip was split, his eye thoroughly blackened, and some colorful bruising along his jaw rounded out the whole look. I felt Corri stiffen next to me and I knew. 

This was the punk.

I opened my mouth to say I don't even know what to his puny father, when I felt Corri's hand tugging me toward Mr. Davis' office door. "Let's go," she urged.

We strolled in together and I pushed aside my need to approach the little punk ...for now.

"Daniel," I growled, offering up a handshake that he refused to acknowledge. 

He urged us both to sit and then gave my daughter a scathing look that had me ready to snap his pathetic head off. "Since you saw the poor state of that Patterson boy out there, I'm assuming you know what this meeting is about?" he began.

I crossed my arms over my broad chest and zeroed in my gaze. "I'm assuming you want to congratulate my daughter for single-handedly taking down a bully that this school seemed to turn a blind eye to?"

His mouth dropped open in shock. "Uh...no. I won't be congratulating her on anything. Her behavior today was a vulgar display of violence that won't be tolerated at this school. I won't subject any more students to her brand of justice no matter how much she felt she was wronged by Mr. Patterson."

"Wronged?" I scoffed. "She came home with a bloody nose and bruises on her forehead last week. That's a little more than just being wronged, Daniel."

This smug bastard was all business-like as he smirked at me. "Well if we had known that the children had been in a dispute of some sort, we could have handled it. That's our job. Instead she picks a fight with him and now his parents are rightfully upset."

"My daughter had every right to defend herself against someone who had been picking on her for weeks. This was how she wanted to settle things. So when she asked me to train her…"

"You're responsible for this?"

I nodded proudly. "Of course I am. You know I'm a fighter, Daniel. And when my daughter says she wants to learn, I teach her. And I must have done a good job since she doesn't have a mark on her."

I could see the anger bubbling up under his button down shirt and coordinating sweater vest. Daniel Davis was a weenie and he always would be.

"Regardless, the Pattersons are demanding a punishment, so I am hereby suspending Corrigan from school and demanding she deliver a written apology to James before she can re-enter school."

His tone was indignant and it made me want to smack him. "My daughter will not be suspended. I will take her home today and she will return tomorrow...with no apology. That kid harassed my daughter, shoved her on the playground, said awful things to her regarding her mother and is in general, a menace to this school. Maybe we didn't handle this the best way we could have but my daughter will not stand by and let some boy push her around. Not while I'm alive. And if you have any issues with any of my demands, I'd be happy to get my lawyer involved."

My words landed on his desk with a thump. His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally replied, "Fine. Take her home. And in the future, Miss Armstrong, if you have an issue with another student, please bring it to my attention so that we can resolve it," he paused and let his eyes slide over to me, but I was already rising from my chair. "Without violence."

"Jimmy was the one who made this physical. It wasn't enough for him to call me ugly...so when he decided to start shoving me, I fought back. Don't I have the right to defend myself?"

Her voice was sure and strong and I felt my chest bursting with pride. I reached for her hand and grinned when she gripped mine tightly. "So we'll be back tomorrow?" I taunted. "With or without the lawyer depends on you."

Daniel blinked quickly and shook his head. "No lawyers necessary, Charlie. I'm sorry your daughter didn't feel safe in my school. I'll do everything in my power to keep that from happening in the future."

He stood and lifted his hand, an offering of a promise that I chose to believe until he gave me a reason not to. "That's a deal," I replied as I pumped his hand a few times and stifled a laugh when I could see that I had squeezed him too hard. 

Corri and I walked out with my arm wrapped around her shoulders. But my beaming smile fell away when I caught sight of the little punk nervously glancing away. He stood and approached us slowly, his eyes barely lifting to meet mine. "I'm sorry, Corri. I...I shouldn't have said all those horrible things to you. And I shouldn't have pushed you either. You're pretty tough...for a girl."

"She's just tough, period. So don't forget that," I added before clasping my hand over the boy's shoulder and giving him a tight squeeze. 

We sauntered past his parents and I squelched my urge to punch that father of his. They seemed remorseful, so their son must have finally confessed his part in why Corri had snapped. "So where should we go to lunch?" I asked her as we made our way to the parking lot. 

"Somewhere that serves sundaes," she beamed up at me.

"Sounds perfect," I agreed before turning back to face the school. 

"What is it, Dad?"

"I was just thinking that if we had sued the school, then we could rename it. Doesn't Corrigan Armstrong Elementary have a great ring to it?"

Corri burst out laughing as she climbed into the cab with me and we drove out of the school parking lot with one goal in mind. Sundaes.

As my eyes fluttered open, I could still feel my father's hand on my shoulder like it was yesterday. I could still smell his Old Spice cologne. I could still see the azure twinkle in his eyes. My own eyes began to focus and what was surrounding me was not the warmth of my father's arms.

I was half lying on Colt's chest, my arm curled around his waist. I lifted my fingers to brush a dark, errant curl from his forehead. His eyes were closed and his eyelashes were brushing the tops of his cheeks. His chest steadily moved with each breath he took. I trailed my hand up his chest, tickling the hair there too. He was beautiful and peaceful and when I needed him last night, he held me tightly. 

I took a deep breath and tried to push down all the hurt threatening to cave in my heart. My father was gone. I spent one last night at his side and today I didn't have a dad anymore. I wanted to take back the last six years that I had stubbornly refused to come home.

I never got to have a family dinner with Mandy where he could have awkwardly introduced her as the lady in his life. I missed six Christmases where we could have reminisced about our favorite ornaments or who made the best eggnog. I robbed myself of time and memories that I could no longer get back.

When Colt's eyes opened, his mouth stretched into a giant grin. "Morning," he hummed, reaching for my face. 

I backed away from him, rushing to collect my clothes from the closet. "I should get a shower and get going. I have to make funeral plans," I announced with my clothes in one hand and the other gripping the doorknob.

"I'll help," Colt sighed as he approached me. "With the planning, not the shower," he added. "Unless?" His green eyes danced with mischief as he gazed down at me. I turned away when he leaned down to kiss me.

"Don't."

"Corri," his voice was soft and full of concern but I didn't want it.

"Don't kiss me. Don't sleep in my bed. Don't come with me to the funeral home and you better sure as hell don't act like everything is fine when you damn well know it's not."

Colt reared back like I had smacked him. "Corri, just take it easy. I know you're hurting right now."

"Because of you," I seethed. "Because the sight of you and Katrina kept me from my home for more than half a decade and I missed out on time with my father. And I only have you to blame for that."

I was bitter and you could hear the pain in my voice. Colt looked like his heart was shattering when I added, "I need you to stay in the loft apartment for a while. I… I can't do this right now."

I peered up at him when he trapped me between his muscled body and the door frame. "But we should be leaning on each other right now, butterfly. Not pushing each other away," he sighed, his lips barely a breath from mine.

In that moment it would have been so easy to fall into his arms and let him make me forget, but I couldn't do it. My rage over losing my father was just under the surface and forcing all my other emotions aside. I was pissed my father was gone and Colt was the biggest target. So when he lowered his lips to brush against mine, I shoved him back with both hands. "I can't do this," I repeated, hoping he would hear me this time. 

I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself inside, listening for his retreating feet. I had to make plans to bury my father and the last thing I needed was to be fretting over Colt's hurt feelings. All he represented to me now was time I'd lost with my dad. And I just couldn't get over it.

...

A/N: Corri is back to her old ways. Pushing Colt away instead of talking  about her feelings. 😔