I try my cell phone, but I have no signal. I lost the signal days ago. We’re really doing this. Living off the grid. I’m going to find me a hillbilly toothless wild man deep in the woods and have all his babies.
When I chuckle, Dad’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. His kind brown eyes always bring me comfort.
“What’s so funny back there?”
“Just imagining finding a hillbilly boyfriend. We’re going to have lots of babies,” I explain.
“No. Boys. Ever.”
Buddy barks again. Stupid dog seems to agree with Dad on that one every time.
“Guess I’ll have to wait until college to get my freak on,” I say with a sigh and feign boredom. Truth is, I wouldn’t know what to do with a boy if I had one. Having gone to an all-girl school my entire life, the only interaction with guys were the ones from the neighborhood. I’ve not been kissed, and I certainly haven’t done anything more.
Dad growls and Mom laughs. She’s more herself today. A few smiles here and there. She even sang with me through a couple of oldies on the CD I’d burned back home. I’d never seen Dad look so happy. One of these days I’m going to help Mom to remember that we’re her family. That we need her. She’ll laugh and smile and love us like we love her.
And Dad can be happy again.
Truly happy.
Reed Jamison puts on a strong face, but I’ve seen him at his lowest. Bawling his eyes out like a child. It crushed my heart. When Drew died, I cried. But when my father cried, I think I lost a part of my soul that day.
Mom has always been sad. Detached. Lost. Drew and I always felt as if we were a burden to her. And when he died, she went completely off the deep end with no hope of ever coming back. Dad seems hopeful and for him, I hope too.
I promised myself that I’d always be his sidekick. His best friend. His little girl. I would do well in school, behave always, and never argue about chores. Dad did so much for our family. It was the least I could offer for him.
“Don’t eat the white berries,” I remind everyone in the car for the millionth time. Buddy agrees and barks.
Dad winks in the mirror. “We’ll save them for your hillbilly boyfriend.”
I’m happily reading one of my romance novels when the RV starts to slow.
“Oh, shit. This one’s big,” he complains as he rolls to a stop in front of a massive fallen tree.
“I’m glad we’re stopping,” Mom says in the detached voice I know so well. “I have a headache coming on.”
Heat creeps up my throat as I remembered last night. They had sex. It didn’t sound very fun. Dad seemed angry. Mom didn’t make a peep. All I could hear was their heavy breathing, the slapping of flesh, and his grunts. The entire RV shook and rattled. I was so embarrassed. Sure, I’ve seen sex in movies and read about it in my books, but that was the first time I’ve ever heard it. Experienced it in live action.
When I lift my eyes, Dad’s are on mine. Once again apologetic. I want to tell him it’s not his fault she’s the way she is but he won’t believe me. He’s exactly like me. Confident we can somehow fix her one day.
“Come on, Pip. I need an extra pair of hands, and your mother has a headache,” he seethes, his jaw clenching as he turns to regard her.
She’s unfazed and simply shrugs.
With a strangled curse word, he slings the door open and steps out. The door slams behind him scaring the crap out of me.
“Go help your father before he has a coronary,” she says in a bored tone.
“It’s hot,” I whine as I swipe sweat from my brow.
Dad is hot too because he’s long since yanked off his shirt. He’s pissed and has been taking it out on the tree for the past three hours. I’ve escaped only long enough to fetch us water.
“Go inside with your mother,” he barks out before kicking the tree.
I flinch at his outburst. “Dad…”
He jerks his fiery gaze my way. My dad is usually all smiles and full of love. His anger toward my mom though has cast a permanent scowl on his face today. I want to make it go away.
Running over to him, I throw my arms around his waist. He’s stiff at first but then seems to melt at my affection. Soon, his fingers run through my ponytail in an absent way. His lips press to the top of my head—a sign that everything is going to be okay.
I believe him.
He’s sweaty and smells a little rank from all the hard work in the late May afternoon sun, but I inhale him and memorize his scent. Not many things comfort me, but my Dad is one of them. His heartbeat is loud with my ear pressed against his chest. I love to listen to the strong cadence of it. When I was younger, I used to make up songs that went with the beat.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I vow and squeeze him tighter.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Promise, Pip?”
“Pinky promise.”
Mom has slept all day in the back. Normally, it hurts my feelings, but today feels different. Today we find our new home. Dad and I are on an adventure.
I steal a glance his way. His aviator sunglasses sit perched on his nose and his shoulders are relaxed. A half smile plays at his lips. He’s excited just like me. The scruff is beginning to grow on his jaw. It gives him a rugged appearance. Before we left San Francisco, he playfully teased he would grow out a beard. I can’t help but grin imagining my dad’s normally clean shaven face full of wiry hair like Mr. Bobbitt, my old chemistry teacher.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, turning his attention briefly from the road to glance over at me.
I shrug and kick my bare feet up on the dash. “Just thinking about getting to our new home. I’m looking forward to it.”
He reaches over and takes my hand. I get a quick squeeze of assurance before he releases me. The road seems to end and Dad drives slower than usual. When we emerge from the trees, we come upon a small clearing on the top of what feels like a mountain.
The road simply ends.
“Dad!” I screech and point through the windshield. “We made it!”
He’s just as eager as I am. Both of us bolting out of our doors as soon as the RV is parked. Dad reaches the edge of the cliff first. I approach slowly behind him. The edge drops off at least two hundred feet straight down into a gorge. A rushing river winds through the trees down below.
“It’s beautiful,” I gasp, my hand clutching my chest. “The pictures didn’t do it justice.”
He pulls me to him and we hug. “We’re here, Pip. Finally.” Hope tinges his words. Hope that we’ll all go back to normal. After all this time, we’ll be a family again.
I get a kiss on the top of my head before he releases me. Walking over to the edge, I point down. “How do we get down there? I want to go down there.”
“I’m not sure, but we’ll devote the morning looking,” he promises. I don’t need his pinky to know he’ll be good on his word. “I’m going to move the RV parallel to that area.” He points along the edge. “That way, we can block the northerly wind if we want to have a fire tonight. What do you say, Dev? S’mores? Might be the last time you ever have them until we visit your grandparents.”
My stomach groans with hunger. “Yes!”
I help direct Dad while he moves the RV where he wants it. It takes some maneuvering, and at one point he curses up a storm when he gets one of the wheels stuck, but we eventually get it the way it needs to be.
While Dad messes about outside, I run inside to break the news to Mom. I find her staring out the side window in their room that overlooks the gorge below. No smiles. No excitement. No anything.
“Mom…”
She shoos me on. “Devon, my head is killing me. Go help your father.”
Tears of rejection fill my eyes and I nod. I obey and go help my father.
We cook hot dogs on the open fire and then indulge in s’mores. Mom stays in the bedroom.
“It’s cold.” I tuck my hands into the big pocket of my hoodie. “It’s practically summer. Why is it cold?”
Dad chuckles and takes a long pull on his beer. “Earlier you were complaining it was too hot. Which is it, Pip?”
I stick my tongue out at him but hold my feet out toward the fire.
“Come here.” He pats his lap like he used to do when I was a kid.
With a silly grin on my face, I leap at the chance to sit on my dad’s lap. He’s warm and cozy. Strong and protective. He wraps me up in a hug and I rest my ear to his chest. The familiar cadence of his heart thrums in my ear, drowning out the forest sounds. He pets my hair and then kisses the top of my head.
I must fall asleep because I wake as he carries me inside. The fire has long since dwindled. He sets me down on the sofa bed and then covers me up with my favorite quilt. His fingers stroke along my cheek before he gets up and darkens the RV. Despite being sleepy, I feel my ears perk up at every sound.
The sliding of the partition as he shuts it.
The jangle of Dad’s belt.
Murmured voices.
And then the grunts.
Heat burns through me as the RV rocks another night in a row. Mom seems to participate because she lets out a moan. I’m embarrassed when heat begins to pool in my lower belly. I kick off my quilt and shimmy out of my jeans.
Grunt. Grunt. Grunt.
More murmured voices. The words belong to Dad. He sounds angry.
A slap.
And then the RV really starts shaking.
More slaps as she calls him every name in the book.
He bellows something unintelligible to her.
Then I hear what sounds like smacking sounds.
They’re kissing.
A flare of jealousy flits through me and I’m immediately horrified by it. It just upsets me that she ignores us all day and then gets his undivided attention and affection. She doesn’t deserve it after the way she treats him.
Another loud groan.
Shame ripples through me the moment I slip my fingers down between my thighs. I’ve touched myself before, but I’m not very good at it. All I know is it feels good when I touch a certain spot. Greedily, I rub at that spot. I’m craving the relief it will give me. Relief I’ve found before on occasion. It’s always been difficult to get there and sometimes it never happens.
My ears ring and drown out their sounds as I furiously rub at myself. I’m no longer staring toward their partition door but am instead giving in to the electric sensations burning through me. I’m hot and sweaty. Quickly, I tear off my hoodie and then get right back to rubbing myself. I let out a choked sound the moment pleasure steals me from this reality. A loud sigh escapes me and I blink my eyes back open.
Light.
It shines from the bathroom out into the hallway.
Dad stands there in just his jeans glaring at me. When our eyes meet, he shakes his head in disproval before storming into the tiny bathroom. He slams the door shut.
Tears prickle my eyes. Shame courses through me tainting my recent orgasm. How am I going to explain that to him? He looked so pissed. I start to cry and quickly drag the quilt up my body even though I’m sweating. When Dad finally emerges, I pretend to sleep. I can feel him watching me in the darkness for a few moments before he retreats to their room.
I’m sorry, Dad.
I wake with a start.
I heard something.
Fear clutches my heart and I slip out of my bed hurrying to my parents’ bedroom. Dad snores softly and Mom seems to be asleep too. Like I did when I was a little girl, I climb in between them. I slide my arm around Mom’s middle and bury my face in her hair. She pats my arm absently in her sleep. The small moment of affection sets my heart on fire. I’m just relaxing when Dad rolls over and hugs me from behind. I retreat from my mother and seek his safety. Dad is strong and solid behind me. His arm curls around me and his lips find my hair. It grounds me.
Nothing will get me with him having my back.
He’s still breathing heavily in a deep sleep, and it drowns out what I now realize is thunder. The RV shakes from the wind. Soon the rain starts to pound. A chill ripples through me. I start wiggling to get under the covers with them. Eventually, I manage to slide beneath their quilt. Dad’s warm chest pressed against my back through my T-shirt heats my chilled body.
I manage to doze off but wake up again because the storm is going crazy outside. Lightning cracks every few minutes and the wind threatens to rip the top off the RV. I’m distracted, however, when Dad hugs me tighter. As though, even in sleep, he knows I need comfort.
I wiggle up against him again, and something hardens from behind me. His snores continue on but his penis presses against my butt through his boxers. My entire body stills. The storm is nothing in comparison to the way my heart jackhammers in my chest. I’ve never seen or felt a penis in person. The one poking into me is intimidating. I start to move away but he lets out a big snore like he might wake soon. His palm slides under my shirt. Skin against skin. Heat burns through me at a rate I can’t compute. I know he’d have a conniption fit if he woke up right now and found us this way. And yet I can’t bring myself to move away. His touch comforts me like no other person can. When his palm slides up to cup my small breast, my breathing stops altogether.
I want him to touch me everywhere.
The thought—so sudden and fierce—has a low, embarrassed sound escaping me. His thumb brushes against my nipple causing it to harden and me to shudder. I’ve never been touched by a boy and yet here I am at second base with my dad.
My skin is on fire now.
I should be moving away.
I definitely shouldn’t be wiggling my butt again just so he’ll stay hard. It fascinates me that a man can have an erection in his sleep.
“Sabrina,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. He’s trapped within the dream world and he thinks I’m Mom.
I don’t wake him or correct him.
I bite my lip and revel in his soft, possessive touch. The way his hips have begun slowly bucking against me. His hand abandons my breast, and I almost pout, but then my flesh ignites as his palm slides along my toned stomach to my panties. They’re soaked and I’m horrified how turned on I am right now. The moment his fingers rub me in the spot that feels good over my wet panties, I jerk in his arms.
Explosive sensations shoot through me, far more powerful than the lightning and thundering outside. It feels a thousand times better than when I touch myself. My body is squirming and moving against his touch, desperate for more. More of what? I’m not sure. I just want more.
His breathing is quiet now and I realize he’s awake.
I had my chance to move away but now he’s awake and will flip out once he realizes what is happening. Still, I can’t be the one to break the spell.
He kisses my neck and murmurs my mother’s name as his fingers slip past my panties.
“So wet, Sabrina,” he breathes against my flesh.
My eyes roll back in my head the moment he begins pushing his finger between my drenched folds seeking entrance to a place that even I haven’t touched. Fire blooms deep in the pit of my belly. As he enters my body with just one of his fingers, the burn is almost too much to bear. I let out a whimper as a tear leaks out, but I don’t want him to stop.
His entire body goes completely stiff and still. Slowly, he pulls his finger away. I feel him pat me and then pat my mother.
“Fuck!” he snarls in the dark. “Fuck!”
Mom stirs from her side of the bed but I can’t move. I’m too horrified by his reaction. I attempt to pretend to sleep.
“Devon.” His voice cracks and I swear he’s going to cry again. Like those early days after Drew had died.
A sob escapes me and I roll over to face him, seeking his comfort. I bury my face against his chest, reveling in the way his hot flesh is sweaty against my bare stomach now that my shirt is pushed up. The connection sends fire surging through me once again and his erection bounces against me.
“Fuck,” he growls and pushes me away.
He climbs out of bed and starts jerking on clothes. I can’t stop crying. I don’t understand why he’s so mad. I mean, deep down I get it. He just touched his daughter in the dark. But it wasn’t his fault. He thought it was Mom. I’m the sick one because I let it happen.
“Dad—”
“No, goddammit!” he barks out, waking my mother. “I need to think.”
He yanks the partition closed and starts slamming things around in the kitchen. I snuggle close to my mom, my tears freely falling.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” Her voice is soft and real. Like the one I remember before we lost Drew.
“Momma,” I sob.
The camper seems to move. Is Dad driving us somewhere?
Cracks and hisses and crushes.
My belly seems to float right out of my body as I fly out of the bed, my head cracking against the ceiling.
What’s happening?