BRAT WINS BIG!
I don't know how it happened. But there I was. Stuck with my new ex-convict Daddy out there in the desert.
Fuck!
I hated that man. Can you say asshole? Yeah, that's exactly what he was.
"What is this shit?" I said. "What kind of fucking car are you driving?"
You should have seen the way my new Daddy looked at me then. If looks could kill.
And that was just the thing. My Daddy had killed a man before. Right with his bare hands.
You could look at him and see it was true. He had that dark look to his eyes. And something scary just radiated out of him.
I mean, you could see muscles just rolling under that skin of his. He couldn't never find a shirt that fit him right. Everything was too tight on him.
He was wearing a T-shirt right then. Shit! He was good looking. In a dark sort of way. I had to hand that to my mom, she knew how to pick 'em.
Daddy was her fourth husband!
She was a parole officer. And she had a thing for hard luck cases.
But for God's sake, my new daddy had tattoos!
"So what the fuck we gonna do?" I said, looking out at the desert.
Daddy just kept looking at me like he was gonna kill me. I really thought he might do it. Just to shut me up.
I pushed out my breasts at him. That was always a safe bet. I'm eighteen, and I've got some fine breasts.
Daddy looked hard at my breasts then. Man had no shame. Then I guess he decided he wouldn't kill me.
"As long as you're moving your trap, you might as well make yourself useful." Daddy said. "First, call triple A. Tell them we need a tow to Los Vegas. Next, call your mommy and tell her we ain't making it home tonight."
Home was California. A dirtbag town I'm sure you ain't heard of, so I ain't mentioning it.
I didn't pick up the phone right away. I just kept my breasts in their best position. I enjoyed torturing Daddy with them. I knew he wanted them.
Not that he'd ever get them!
"So are we going to Vegas?" I said. "We gonna go gambling together?"
Daddy shook his head as if I was a lost cause.
"Just get on the fucking phone." He said.
And so I did.
The auto repair shop told us the car wouldn't be ready until the next day. So we were stuck in Vegas for the night.
Without a goddam thing to do, we found ourselves walking up the strip together.
Shit! You should see Vegas at least once in your life. It's like a neon city at night. It's as exciting as hell.
"We gonna go gambling?" I said.
"Fuck, you ain't old enough," Daddy said. "And according to my parole agreement I ain't suppose to be anywhere near a gambling establishment."
"Well, I ain't gonna tell anyone if you don't. Plus I got a fake ID. It says I'm twenty-one."
Daddy shook his head.
"I should've fucking known that." He said.
At that point Daddy took out his wallet. He looked inside. We both saw it at the same time. He didn't have nothing but a ten dollar bill.
"Where we gonna stay tonight with ten dollars?" I said.
Daddy stopped. He gave me an I'm-gonna-kill-you-if-you-don't-shut-up look.
Then he said, dryly as can be, "I guess we'll have to cuddle together at the bus stop."
"Cuddle?" I screeched.
"To stay warm in the cold. You know?" Daddy said and grinned.
"Fuck you," I said.
Daddy raised his eyebrows at that. I just let it go.