"Dad, I'm sorry!"

I raised my hand to defend myself, only to be knocked down.

"Sorry,"he scoffed," your sorry. Okay, that's great sorry makes everything better. Sorry puts food on the table, and gets back the time I had to spend cooking, after a long day at work. I come home expecting a nice, warm meal, and I see you, asleep on the desk that I bought you!"

"I had to Study! I have a huge test tomorrow that's worth half my grade! I never meant to fall asleep! It just happened!"

"It just happened," he mocked,"please daddy don't hurt me. I know I'm a brat, and I should have been aborted before I could ruin your life, but please I have to study, so I can leave you to fend for yourself."

"I can do better! I can make you dinner tomorrow! Please!"

I shuddered when he took his belt off. He was going to add more scars on top of the ones he had left before. He got his knife, and cut off my shirt.

Don't scream. Don't cry. You can cry later. When he can't see you. I grabbed my arms, and locked my jaw. I could feel the leather tearing through the air right before it hit my skin.

I braced myself for the next blow, but instead of the sick hiss of air, I heard my father grunting, right before he hit the floor. I looked up, to see a muscular man on top of him.

"You seriously beat your own daughter? I don't care how badly we screwed you. You don't take it out on your own kid!"

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and quickly turned to see who it was.

"It'okay," she said while handing me her jacket,"We're here to help you."

She had long black hair and a British accent.

"He's out," said the man, nonchalantly,"let's go."

We ran out the front door, to see a black van.

They opened the door to reveal three other people.

"Seriously? You took the girl?" said an older man, with short hair.

"He was hitting her,"the muscular man said, defending his decision,"We could just leave her."

We had already gotten in the van, and they were trying to decide what to do with me.

"Why don't we take her to the police," said a young blonde woman," don't they usually help with these things?"

"Parker, babe,"said the black man in the driver's seat,"let's think about what we will tell the police. So, officer, I know that everyone here had a criminal record, and yes we did con a man out of his life savings, and yes we did break into his home, and knock him out, but I promise you we did not kidnap her."

Criminals? Okay, maybe it was stupid to leave with a group of people I didn't know, but at the time I had to get away from a man who was hitting me. Now I was in a van with give criminals who had apparently stolen from my father.

"Who are you people?" Was all I could ask.

"Rachel,"said the woman from before.

"How do you know my name?! What is going on?!"

"Calm down,"the muscular man seamed a little annoyed," We're not going to hurt you. I'm Elliot. This is Sophie, Parker, Hardison, and Hate. We run a company that helps victims of cons get their money back."

"But, you stole from my father. He wasn't a conartist. Was he?"

"Actually he was," said Nate," he was selling a set of books for single parents. He would give them one book, and then after they had payed hundreds of dollars, expecting more books to come, but they never did. He conned thousands of families across the country."

"Oh my God," a horrible truth just washed over me," this is all my fault."

"No it's not Rachel," Sophie reasured me,"you had nothing to do with it."

"Yes it is," I insisted," he always took me to his book signings when I didn't have school. He always sold more when I was there. I'm the reason he was able to steal from these people."