Brent, Male, 34

	- Narrator, marketing manager, father of Orchid

	- Tan white skin, 5'10, 175lbs, shoulder-length curly brown hair

Orchid, Female, 13

	- Daughter of Brent

	- Pale white skin, 5'8, 140lbs, mid-back length nearly-black hair

Orchid rose before I did and was sitting in the corner in her underwear using her iPad by the time I slipped out of bed. She still wore the yellow underwear, and I panicked a moment when I remembered that I had ejaculated into the cups of her bra. I wondered if my seed had dried on her skin. Had she noticed? Did she know what it was? Did she hate me?

Instead, “Morning, Dad. I ordered room service for us.”

“T-thanks, yeah... great. How'd you sleep?”

“Better than I have in days. No one to hit me here...”

I felt so bad for her. How hard it must be to have lived in a home where you didn't feel safe, where your every move might mean being slapped. There was no way I was letting her go back to live with Malory. No way.

I slipped out of bed and put on some clothes. “I'll be back in a few, Pumpkin. Gonna go try your mom again.”

I snatched my phone and headed downstairs. I lit up a cigarette and noticed there was a voicemail from 3:30 that morning. I listened and felt sick.

“Um... Brent... It's Mal... Listen, I uh... I need you to come get me. I'm at the court house, they're holding me... Just come get me, alright?” Click. That was it. What the hell was Malory doing in jail?

My thoughts pounded, heavy and too complicated to deal with before coffee. I returned to my room. Our meals had arrived and I sat quietly a moment watching Orchid eat. She said, “Any word from Mom?”

“Uh... yeah.” Not sure how to explain it, I just told her what I knew. “She's, uh, she's in jail. Dunno what happened, but she called and left me a message early this morning that she was being held at the court house.”

Orchid looked distant for a long moment, then, “You gonna go get her?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Look, Orchid, I know you are upset with your mom right now. I am too. Nothing has changed from what we discussed yesterday, but I can't leave her in jail. She needs help... Do you want to come or would you rather stay here?”

“Here. I don't want to deal with her. Can't.”

“Ok, I understand you. I'll call down and see if she is still at the court house, then I'll go down. Would you like me to drop you off somewhere? Or, the pool's open if you want to go down.”

“Pool's fine, I'll just stay here.”

“I'll call you when I know anything, alright? I will be as quick as I can.”

“K, Dad.”

I scarfed down the eggs and toast and bacon and threw on my jeans. I left Orchid looking sullen in the room, but I had no choice, really. Despite the anger I felt at Malory, I had to help her. I still cared for her, maybe not love, but certainly a friendship, and I really wanted to see her get help.

I arrived at the court house and told them I was there to see Malory. The clerk pulled up some information, asked, “Who are you?” I told her I was Mal's ex-husband and father of our daughter. Clerk said, “Can't let you in. Family only.”

I asked, “Well, can you at least tell me if she's ok? Why's she here?”

“Sorry, can't tell you that legally. I can take a message.”

Just then a city police officer came through a door from the back and spoke to the clerk. I heard the name 'Malory' and perked up. The clerk pointed to me, and the officer asked, “You Brent? Come with me.”

I followed the officer through the door and down three different hallways. We passed corridors with heavy metal doors before we entered a section that had hospital carts filled with monitors and cuffs and bandages, placed near doors. Apparently the jail section also had a medical ward.

“Officer... why is Mal here?”

“Case work will explain everything. Mal asked for you and said she had no other family to take care of it. So, here you are.”

I opened the door to the room and was greeted by a shock. Malory was prostrate on the bed, seemed to be sleeping, hooked up to a drip and a monitor, arms covered in bandages, another bandage across her neck, her face drained and looking terrible. An older woman sat next to the bed and rose when I entered. “Brent? I'm Kristen. Let's go outside a moment.”

Outside the door, Kristen took my arm, said, “I'm sorry, Brent. What happened, we think, is that Malory tried to commit suicide last night. There was a fight with her boyfriend at a bar. Witnesses say she punched and kicked him, he took off, she disappeared into the bathroom. Cops were called, they found her bleeding and crying in a stall. The paramedics treated her and brought her here. She woke at some point during the night and called you, still not sure how she accomplished that with her arms...”

The look of horror on her face stopped Kristen and she was silent a moment while I digested her words. Malory had tried to kill herself? Jesus!

“She... How much can I tell you?”

“Well, I'm the one responsible for getting this woman help. Despite her cuts, she didn't need extensive medical care, so they brought her here for her protection. Anything you can tell me might help me to help Malory.”

I recounted what Orchid had told me about the drinking, the dickish boyfriend, the slapping. I told her how Malory's up-and-down attitude the day before had been so unlike the woman I'd known. Kristen took notes and asked followup questions, most I had no answer for.

“Does Orchid have somewhere to stay? Are you a legal guardian?”

“Yes, she can come stay with me. We have joint custody.”

“Well, Brent, you can never tell how this might go. Based just on what I know at this point, she'll be here at least 72 hours for her own good, and I strongly suspect she'll need further evaluation from the psychological hospital up the road. Whatever has brought her to this point won't be easily fixed. Are you prepared to take Orchid in, possibly permanently?”

Despite my plans to bring Orchid back with me, I'd never really considered it a permanent move. That didn't, however, change my answer. “I'm prepared, and she wants to go at this point. Wants to leave here badly.”

Kristen gave me the information I would need to assume custody of Orchid and take her out of state. I had to get several documents notarized and have a child services official sign off on the plan. I called Orchid and let her know I was on the way back to pick her up, but didn't tell her what I knew about her mom just yet.

Orchid was waiting for me in the lobby when I arrived at the hotel. She wore a simple t-shirt and calf-length blue jeans. Her eyes were bright red, and I knew she'd been crying. I held her in my arms for a long time, shushing her and stroking her hair as she sobbed. It was heartwrenching. Despite her anger for her mother, she still loved the woman and cared about her. I let small chunks of what I knew come forth, and each revelation set the child crying once more.

I had to get the papers signed and had an appointment with family services to get final sign off. I asked Orchid if she wanted to go back to the room, but she wouldn't let me go and followed me out to the car.

She was silent as I went about getting paperwork sorted and waited in the car when I took my situation before the case worker. It didn't take long to get sign off, the case worker wishing the best.

I stopped at an ice cream shop and convinced Orchid to have a treat. She had cried herself out a bit, not necessarily feeling better, but she was responding more like she was coming to grip with things.

I opened my laptop and set about booking us flights. My frustration mounted quickly as flights from Seattle were booked solid for several days. There had been terrible weather everywhere but the Northwest and the Kentucky-Virginia corridor. Flights had been cancelled all over, and people were rerouted onto those in the coming days.

I found a ticket that could get one of us back to Roanoke leaving the next afternoon. Just one of us. Not another until Monday. I could have waited it out and had us both going back Monday, but knew that would be pushing it with my boss. I had another idea that might work.

“So, here's the thing. One ticket available tomorrow around four, not another until Monday. I've got a friend of mine, woman I worked with for many years, retired now, lives in Tacoma. Would you be willing to stay with her a few days, if she's available? I'll fly out tomorrow and get the house ready for you, then you fly in on Monday?”

“Can't I just go with you tomorrow?”

“I wish, Pumpkin, I wish. There's only one ticket that gets from here to there. I even checked any airport we could easily drive to. The country's a mess, be lucky if the flight tomorrow gets out and makes it in.” She looked sad. “It would just be a few days, just until Monday.”

She nodded slowly. “Alright... Just a few days. Is she nice?”

I assured the girl that Helena was a sweetheart and gave the woman a call. Though surprised to hear from me, she opened her home to my daughter and offered to drive her back to Seattle to catch the Monday flight.

That plan in place, I booked my ticket for Thursday and set up Orchid to fly out of Seattle early Monday morning.

Orchid seemed to cheer up a bit. Before taking her to Tacoma, we needed to get some of her stuff packed from her mom's house. So we planned to spend one more night in the hotel, sending her possessions via cargo to arrive in a couple of days.

We returned to Malory's home and found no one there. It took a couple of hours to get things sorted, but Orchid had the things she needed in suitcases and some packing boxes we'd purchased. I called the cargo company and arranged for them to be picked up the next morning.

We headed back to the hotel and sat quietly on the bed. “You ok, Pumpkin?”

“Dad... I'm not a pumpkin.” She didn't smile. “Anything but pumpkin... that's... that's what Mom's been calling me lately...”

Ouch. “Ok... got something else you prefer? Knucklehead? Sweetheart? Honey?”

She smiled, finally. “You could just call me Orchid. But the last two are ok. You're the knucklehead.”

My girl was back, even if just a moment, and I soon had us readying to head out for dinner. We ate hamburgers and drank milkshakes, always her favorites, at a place down the road from the hotel. I suggested a movie to take our minds off of things, and soon had us seated in a mostly empty theater for a cheesy comedy-thriller.

Halfway through, Orchid leaned over and put her head on my shoulder. I curled my arm around her and held her against me. There was nothing sexual about what we did, just a father and daughter holding each other and forgetting our fears.

The movie ended and we headed back to the hotel.

I showered first, put on a pair of shorts, and headed down the hall to grab some ice while Orchid took her shower. When I came back, the water was still going strong.

On the floor were the same bra and panties she'd worn for two days. I couldn't resist the temptation to enjoy them again, despite trying very hard to quash my arousal.

I laid back on the bed and looked in the bra cups. Sure enough, my dried sperm was evident and plastered over one cup and dotted inside the other. She had to have known when she put it on! I felt a moment of guilt followed by a stronger one of arousal.

I pulled my daughter's panties to my face and inhaled. The scent was stronger than the night before, two days worth of sweat and fear and vaginal discharge made the crotch sticky and pungent. I inhaled her feminine odors and felt my cock throbbing. I started stroking, looked closely at the panty crotch.

Inside the sticky, slick mess in Orchid's panties I saw several curly black hairs. Thinking about my daughter's pubes surrounding her labia and vagina sent me over the top. Despite my better judgement, I ejaculated again into the cups, spewing my cum where my daughter's young tits had been moments before. Three fast spurts followed by a gushing stream left the bra laced with white globs of semen.

I dumped the underwear back on the floor, then realized I should wipe out the cups in case she noticed. Orchid opened the bathroom door before I could do so. She again wore only a towel, her hair hanging wet and loose over her shoulders. “Dad, toss me my underwear, please?”

I shook as I collected her bra and panties, thought a moment, said, “Uh, don't you want a fresh pair.”

She blushed and looked down. “Don't have any others. Mom wouldn't buy me new ones for a long time. Usually just reuse these...”

I felt completely ashamed. It was bad enough that I'd ejaculated into her bra, knowing she might catch me, but how could I be so out of touch with my daughter to not know she needed underwear. “Uh... ok... um, well, up to you, you don't have to put them on tonight if you'd like to stay clean...” I was trying to sputter my way through avoiding her noticing my cum. “We can get you some new ones tomorrow.”

She blushed again. “Dad... Yeah, ok... No looking, ok?”

“Of course.” Though I know I wanted to do so.

I turned my back and pretended to ignore her while she got ready for bed. She kept the towel around her body, and I could see her in the mirror as she bent over to pick up her underwear.

For just the briefest of seconds, I saw my daughter's sex. Dark pubes, swollen pink labia, hints of moisture from her shower. It was over immediately, and then I was taken by what she did.

She looked at the bra, turned it around in her hand. I knew she was looking at my cum. Knew I was a horrible father and that she'd caught me. My fears raced ahead of my thoughts and left my heart pounding and tense.

But Orchid said nothing, just took her bra and panties and shoved them into her bag.

She slid into bed and then pulled her towel off and put it on the table beside her.

I got in carefully, keeping a safe distance between us, wearing my shorts as armor against touching her body. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Sweet Dreams, Honey.”

She was soon snoring and at some point I drifted off to join her. Just before losing myself to dreams, I began to understand the implications of having Orchid live with me. I was going to be in a situation that I had often fantasized about, often wondered what might happen. My daughter would be close by, my arousal would be impossible to hide sometimes. She'd worn my cum, for God's sake! What might I do with her in the same house? A million questions and red flags and the scent of my slumbering young daughter combined to give me frightening and erotic dreams, dreams I hated and loved all at once.