Lucy sits up and screams at the top of her lungs. It’s an ear-piercing screech that would signify a life-threatening situation in any other scenario. It’s a sound that would set both me and Damien running to her rescue.
However, in this particular scenario, it propels me to life. I clumsily climb down from the dining room table and grab at my shirt, left discarded on the back of a chair. I hold it in front of me to shield my obvious erection and begin backing away as if I am inching away from a wild animal on the prowl.
Lucy, meanwhile, springs across the room and begins wildly pulling on her top. She literally gets stuck in the fabric, half of her in the shirt and half of her out without being able to get it over her head.
“Mmmph!” she screams, dancing about as if she’s doing a jig. “Umph!”
It would be funny, except that I can see the undersides of her big breasts bouncing, not to mention her slick pussy and luscious behind. Even worse, her dad is seeing this too.
“What the fuck is going on here? Does someone want to tell me what in the world you two are doing?” he bellows, his face an ugly mottled red. Only he doesn’t leave time for either of us to respond. “Fuck you Reed, you disgusting son of a bitch. I ought to fucking kill you, or no, better yet, I should call the cops and send you to jail.”
“Damon stop. Come on,” I manage get out. But my voice is hushed and shaking, and I doubt he can hear anything above the storm in his head. I glance across the room to check on Luce. She is clothed now. Crying her freaking eyes out. But clothed.
“And you!” Damon explodes as he turns to Lucy. He really begins to seethe as he sets his eyes on his not-so-innocent little girl. “How did he get you tangled up in all of this? I thought you were better than this. I have never been more ashamed to call you my daughter.” There is no hesitation in his voice. He’s bubbling over with pure emotion, and it’s clear he’s truly horrified in this moment.
Lucy drops to her knees in despair. I see how much his words have shattered her, and she’s sobbing uncontrollably now. After all, it makes sense. Her mother, Nicole, divorced Damon years ago, so he’s her only real parent. She and Damon have always been close, and to see her dad like this must be heartbreaking.
Meanwhile, my friend is going berserk. Boiling over with rage, he turns to my china table and furiously thrusts his arm across it, sending all the expensive porcelain to the floor. The dishes smash and clatter around us as Damon lets out a deafening roar. I see Lucy flinch out of the corner of my eye and I realize I have to man up.
Cowering is not going to do. Besides, being a pussy isn’t in my nature. Maybe I’ve wronged Damon, but I love his daughter. Is that so terrible? Yes, I’m double her age. Yes, I’ve known her since she was a baby. But love is love, and I feel my own anger rising. Politely taking his shit and waiting for the opportunity to ask permission is not going to do it. I need to show him I mean fucking business. I have to tell him how it is and demand acceptance, instead of permission. I’ll have to simply rely on the fact that this is the way things are, whether he likes it or not.
Now, Damon is grimacing and breathing heavy, his mouth open and revealing his teeth in a snarl. The dude looks like a troll come to life, with his face a fiery red and his forehead dripping sweat. Goddamn, the vein in his neck looks about ready to explode. I’ve never seen him so angry, and I’m sure he’s planning to come over here and deck me in the face. I would deserve it too, to be honest.
But I also see something else. The poor guy is seconds away from having tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s fighting back sobs with everything he has, and I hate to see him like this. It downright kills me to know I caused that pain. But I also know that his pain will be my saving grace because his pain is actually love manifested through unfathomable hurt.
“Damon. Stop, man. I know you’re furious, and I don’t blame you. But you have to listen to us. You have to hear us out. This looks bad, but I’m your best friend. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt, disgrace, or take advantage of your daughter,” I say in the calmest and steadiest voice I can manage.
He doesn’t stop moving towards me, but I do see a momentary break in his anger. There’s a minuscule spark of sanity that shows itself for a moment, before the craziness takes over again. Then, the mask descends and he becomes the troll from hell once more.