Quinn, Male, 41

	- Narrator, project manager, father of Tera

	- 6'0, 190lbs, wavy blonde-brown hair a few inches long

Tera, Female, 15

	- High School Freshman, daughter of Quinn

	- 5'7, 135lbs, shoulder-length bright-copper hair

Bobbi, Female, 40s

	- Companionship Provider

	- 5'5, 140lbs, neck-length medium brown hair

Day 1.001

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I mashed the button on the alarm clock after a dozen attempts and a spilled glass of water later. I was groggy after working all night at the office and spending all day in bed. It was five-thirty and already the darkness was creeping in as the sun began to set. I couldn't immediately remember why I'd set the alarm.

I stretched, felt the empty space beside me. It was the 999th straight time I'd woken up alone. The last time I'd felt any warmth beside me, if you could call it warmth, was the morning my then-wife shook me awake to tell me she was leaving me. She moved out ten minutes later, a large dark truck taking her away and mostly out of my life.

I found out later that she'd been cheating on me for years, the last one being with a wealthy older man who her friends said had a cock long enough to strangle a horse. My lawyer had been an ace during the divorce. Karen's infidelity was easily proven, and she'd gotten little more than the clothes on her back when it was all done.

I'd gotten the house, the savings, and more importantly, our daughter. Tera was twelve at the time and was very much my daughter. Her mother's behavior had become erratic in the months leading up to her leaving, and I had become increasingly protective of the girl as Karen's late-night drunken appearances tended to upset us both. Tera took to needing lots of hugs, and I tried my best to be a great dad and keep her safe, let her know things would get better.

And they did get better, once Karen was off with her sugar daddy. Tera and I were close and had a relationship that I was proud of. She started high school and started to establish herself as an independent and curious teen with a soft side. I loved her more than anything in the world.

I remembered then why I'd set the alarm. Tera was going on her first date that Friday night with a seventeen-year old senior from her school named Curt. I wasn't thrilled by the idea of her dating someone a couple of years older, but I wasn't going to be the overprotective type who forbid a reasonable relationship and then had it become something which drove a wedge. Or worse.

I did want to meet the guy, though, and I'd set the alarm despite not having to be in to work later that night.

I stumbled into the kitchen wearing my boxers and a robe, still bleary eyed. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties. It was a habit of hers which had started when she was young and which I'd grown increasingly uncomfortable with as her body matured. I found it harder not to notice how her breasts had grown into those of a young woman, how, sometimes, her panties failed to hide the fiery copper hairs over her genitals.

It wasn't that I sexualized my daughter. Not at all. Just the opposite, really. I just didn't want to be reminded that her body and her hormones had changed and become mature. I hated to think about my daughter having sex, of giving in to urges I knew she'd had. Seeing her like that made it all the more difficult to ignore those concerns and pretend she was still my little girl.

“Jesus, Dad. Rough night?”

I supposed I looked like shit. My hair and beard had been uncut for weeks as I spent long nights working on a time-sensitive project at work. I ran a hand across my neck-length mane, tried to straighten it. “Better?”

“Not really.”

“Bite me.”

She used one hand like a paw. “Raaawr.”

Tera peeled a banana and sank a few inches into her mouth before biting it off. “Eff Eff Eww.”

“Huh?”

She chewed and swallowed quickly. “I said, 'this is you'. You told me to bite you, so I did.”

“Whatever. So when do I get to meet this Curt fellow?”

“He's coming to pick me up in an hour. Please don't embarrass me, Dad. Promise me.”

“When have I ever embarrassed you?”

“That time you sang 'Brown-eyed Girl' to me on my thirteenth birthday? The time you told my friends that I farted in my sleep when I was little? That time--”

“Ok... ok... I get it. I promise I won't intentionally embarrass you. What's the plan for tonight?”

“Going to dinner and a movie.”

“What movie?”

“I don't know...”

I scowled, “Tera...”

“Fine... The new one with Brad Pitt. Nothing bad.”

“Good. Though, I'm not convinced that Brad Pitt movies are anything but bad.”

Tera stuck her tongue out at me, finished her banana, and waved her hand in the air. “Ok... need to get dressed. He'll be here at six-thirty to get me.”

My daughter headed up the stairs and disappeared. I picked up the peel she'd thrown on the counter and pushed it down the disposal. Tera had been out on a couple of dates before, but they were the chaperoned kind, with either me or the guy's parent somewhere nearby. It took some pleading, but I'd agreed to let her have a 'grown-up' date with Curt so long as she was home by midnight. She'd even talked me into paying for the whole thing.

I fished a bottle of water out of the fridge and made a sandwich, finished them quickly, then went back upstairs and showered. By the time I came down, Tera was dressed and pacing nervously around the living room, peeking through the blinds often.

She looked beautiful. Not that she wasn't ever beautiful, but she wore her mother's old red dress, thin straps over her shoulders, flared folds around her knees. I could see blush and lipstick, eyeliner and more cosmetics that I knew were there but couldn't name. My daughter looked much older than fifteen. She certainly was not my little girl any more.

“There he is! Do I look ok, Dad?”

I smiled, said, “you certainly do, Sweetheart. You're gorgeous.”

“Thanks! Ok, so hurry up and meet him so I can go. Remember, you promised!”

I mumbled my agreement and walked with Tera out to where a huge pickup truck sat idling in the driveway. It rumbled loudly as he revved the engine. Tera jumped in the passenger seat without another word to me, and I walked over to the driver's side.

I stood there a moment, patiently as I could, waiting for Curt to come out and greet me. The door never opened, so I rapped on the window which was well over my head. The window slowly rolled down and a tanned face appeared, “what's up, bro?”

“I'm not your bro. I'm Tera's father. She told you I wanted to meet you?”

“Oh, right. Suppose so. So what do you need?”

“Need? A name might be nice, a greeting. Getting on my good side is in your best interest if you expect me to pay for your night out with my daughter.”

“Oh, right. Curt.” That's all he said.

“Curt, I'm Quinn. You've got five seconds to climb out of that monstrosity and shake my hand like a man before I take my daughter back inside the house and forbid her to see you again.” I was growing angry at the way the boy had acted like an entitled snob.

“Ah, okay.” The door opened and I stepped back. Two booted feet hit the ground hard. Curt was several inches taller than my 6 foot frame, wore an outfit which screamed redneck yuppie. I immediately cringed at the thought of my daughter going anywhere with the boy.

Curt stuck out his hand, engulfed mine, said, “that it?”

I pulled him close, tried to use a voice I'm sure I'd seen a thousand movie dads use when grudgingly allowing their daughters to head off into the world with some less-than-worthy guy. “Bring my daughter back before midnight, you hear me? You hurt her and I'll hurt you.” I'm sure I didn't quite mean to say it like that, but it certainly reflected my thoughts in that moment.

“Uh... right... right...” he took back his hand, had a dark look in his eye, almost amused. “You take care of yourself, Dr. Quinn.” He mocked my name, clearly referring to the old television series starring Jane Seymour as the title character.

Before I could reply, he was back in the truck, window up, and backing quickly down my driveway. He was gone before I could mutter, “asshole.” I stewed a moment, regretting already letting my daughter go out with the prick, and went back inside.

- - -

I was never a heavy drinker, but when things got me worked up, I found myself better able to rationalize events and calm down after a few strong drinks. I spent the evening worrying about my daughter and downing shots of whisky and bourbon.

I stared at the television, paying little attention to what was on, checking the clock every few minutes. Midnight passed and my daughter was not home. I called her cell and got no answer. I called again, same thing. Twelve-thirty passed and I started to agitate. Just before one in the morning, the front door opened.

I raced around to the entrance, ready to yell at Tera for disobeying my rules. The fifteen-year old was in tears, a swelling red mark on her cheek, dotted with small drops of blood.

“Tera!” I wrapped my arms around her and she hugged me tight, crying against my chest. “What, Honey? What happened?”

She couldn't talk for a moment, kept trying to stop crying long enough to catch her breath.

“Talk to me, Sweetheart. What happened?”

“Curt hit me... hard...”

I was boiling with rage. “I'll kill him.”

“Dad... Please! Just listen...”

I did my best to do so.

Between sobs, she told me the story. “We went to dinner and the movie, everything was ok... he was bringing me home, when he said... when he said he wanted me... you know...”

“He raped you?! I'll kill him!”

“No! Dad... I said yes... I said yes... I let him... but after... after, he called me a slut, a whore, he said I was easy, that only stupid whores put out on the first date. He drove me home, calling me names, saying he'd tell all my friends I was a slut. He grabbed my arm when I went to jump out of the truck in the driveway, hit me hard, said I was a 'loose whore'... Oh, Dad...” She was bawling again.

I didn't know what to do. I was on fire with rage. If that asshole had been within reach I'd have literally strangled him. I tried to shush my daughter, held her, finally got her to lay down on the couch. I got her an ice pack, told her we might need to go to the hospital. In only minutes, she cried herself to sleep in my arms.

I held her long enough to be sure she was out, then I did the only thing I could do. I grabbed a butcher's knife from the kitchen drawer, and I set out to find Curt.

- - -

I knew who his parents were, I'd done some googling of the boy before the date. Rage boiling through me, I drove straight to his house, just a few blocks from mine. I was single-minded. There was no doubt that what I was doing was right. Better than right. It was the only thing I could do.

His monstrous truck sat parked in the driveway, silent and hulking. I crept toward the front door, pounded on it, knife hidden behind my back. I never thought about what I'd do if someone other than Curt had answered the door, but I never had to. The tall prick opened it, his eyes glazed, unseeing for a second before he saw the fire burning in mine.

Curt screamed, tried to back away. I grabbed his wrist, yanked him onto the porch. The knife flew around me and I drove it into his neck, blood spurting onto my fingers. His scream died in a gurgle as he clutched his throat. I pulled back, sank the blade in again, lower. It wedged against a bone and broke inside his body. Curt stumbled a step backwards, hit the doorframe and slid down trying in vain to stem the flow of blood from his neck.

A woman ran to the door, saw me, then saw the dying teen, screamed.

I ran to my car, peeled out of the driveway, blood dripping from my fingers and clothes. I can't really say what I was thinking when I pulled into the driveway. I sat there a moment. The only coherent thing I remember was that I didn't want Tera to see me in that state. Didn't want to scar her with seeing me covered in blood.

So I slowly stepped out of the car and sat on my front porch, waiting for the police to arrive.

That was the first time I spent a night in jail.

- - -

Day 1.002

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I mashed the button on the alarm clock after a dozen attempts and a spilled glass of water later. I was groggy, felt intense emotions flowing through me. I'd had a terrible nightmare, one which had been so utterly vivid that I was shaking as I tried to stand. Cold sweat coated my body. In the horrid dream, I remembered killing Curt for what he'd done to Tera, remembered how warm his blood had been on my skin. I shivered and tried immediately to forget it and hope to never think about it again.

I stumbled into the kitchen wearing my boxers and a robe, still bleary eyed. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties.

“Jesus, Dad. Rough night?”

The sense of deja vu caused me to sway. I chalked it up to being upset from the dream, poured myself a cup of stale coffee and sat heavily on a stool.

“You ok, Dad? You don't look so great.”

“Fine, just... had a bad dream.”

“Oh...” She ate a banana slowly, eyes watching me as I held my head in my hands. “Anything I can do?”

“Nah... just need a few minutes to wake up. Work was stressful last night, guess the dream is telling me to try to relax this weekend.”

“Ok.” She finished the banana, checked the clock, said, “I better get dressed.”

“Dressed for what?”

“Jesus, Dad. My date with Curt. I told you about it, you gave me money, remember.”

I felt numb, remembered the way I'd driven the blade into Curt's neck in the dream. “Uh... right... right... yeah, go get ready.”

My head hammered as I downed the coffee and made a fresh batch. Tera came back down the steps some time later. She looked stunning. Tera wore the red dress which her mother had worn once for me, long before I knew anything about her cheating. The dress swished as Tera descended, and I couldn't believe how much she looked like her mother in that moment.

“Do I look ok, Dad?”

I managed a weak smile, said, “you certainly do, Sweetheart. You're gorgeous.”

Tera twirled, clearly excited and nervous to go out on her first real date. I had reservations, but I kept them to myself then, let her enjoy feeling all grown up. I hated to think about her being too old to be my little girl any longer.

I heard a loud rumble get closer. Tera peeked out the window, said, “there he is! Sure I look ok?”

“You're a knockout, Sweetheart. Go have fun.”

I watched her go through the door and disappear outside. I'd meant to meet Curt first, but after the dream, I found myself unable to face him, afraid I'd panic seeing his face. It had been so vivid. I couldn't believe what he did to my daughter... couldn't believe I'd murdered him afterwards.

I heard the truck rumble off and settled in to watch television. I flipped channels a while before falling asleep on the couch, the nightmare having worn me out enough to need to recharge again.

I woke sometime later to the sound of the door opening. A quick look at the cable box showed a few minutes before 1 AM. Tera was late, and I rose to meet her at the entrance.

She was crying, tears running down her cheek. A bright red mark was swelling and bleeding on her face. I hugged her to me, said, “Oh, Honey! What happened?”

When she told me the details, I felt numb. Everything I'd dreamed she'd say, she said. All of it. Every last detail, every name he'd called her, how he'd hit her. My daughter was crushed, and I was boiling with rage.

As if the dream had been prophetic, I did the only thing I could do. I found Curt's house, knocked on the door, and buried a knife in his neck before he could get away.

Afterwards, I waited for the police to arrive, sitting on my porch. I felt numb. I couldn't tell the difference between the dream and what I'd just done. It all felt the same. The emotions, the rage, Curt's warm blood on my fingers.

When the cops showed up, handcuffed me, and took me to jail, the sense of deja vu had me swimming and nauseous.

- - -

Day 1.003

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I mashed the button on the alarm clock after a dozen attempts and a spilled glass of water later. Memories of killing Curt flashed through my groggy head. Killing him twice. I panicked, raced downstairs in only my boxers. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties.

“Tera, are you ok? Did the cops come?”

“Jesus, Dad. What got into you?” She munched unconcerned on a banana.

“The cops, were they here?”

“No, why?”

I found I couldn't form words for a moment, confused. Tera straightened, concern in her eyes. She took my arm, led me to a table. “Sit down, Dad. What's wrong?”

“I... I'm not sure... Maybe I dreamed it all... It felt so... real...”

My daughter sat next to me, holding my hand. “What felt so real?”

“Killing him... I killed him, Tera!”

“Uh... what? What are you talking about?”

The mark on her cheek wasn't there. No bruise, no scar, no scab. My daughter's cheek was smooth and clean, her soft skin unmarred by Curt's violent hand. “Uh... No... uh... I'm just... it was a nightmare... just a nightmare...”

“Dad... you're scaring me...”

“Scaring myself... it felt so real...”

My pulse was racing, sweat running from my face.

Tera grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer, wrapped it in a washcloth and pressed it to my forehead. My daughter had always had a kind soul, and she'd more than once nursed me through illness and broken bones. She held my hand again, the other holding the cold pack to my skin.

“Ok, Dad... It's ok. Just a dream. Wow, you're burning up. I think you might have a fever.”

I felt ill, it was true. Whatever had been going wrong in my head, the memories of murdering Curt, the horrifying mark on my daughter's face, it was manifesting in a physical way and making me sick. I leaned forward, involuntarily wretched, felt dizzy. Tera grabbed a trashcan and held it under my head.

When nothing more happened, she slowly put it away, her concern for me growing by the second. “How about I put you back to bed. You get any worse and I'm calling you an ambulance”

I let my daughter lead me by the hand up the stairs. She smoothed out the sheet and helped me settled onto my back. She slid in the other side, her knee pressed against my hip, one arm cradling me while she held the ice against my forehead. “Just relax... try to breath, Dad.”

I drifted a bit. Maybe I did have a fever. It would explain the vivid, violent dreams I'd had.

A loud horn pounded in my ears repeatedly, waking me.

“Oh, crap! I forgot about Curt. Umm...” She looked down at me, debating what to do. “I'll... I'll just tell him we'll do it another night. You aren't in good shape, he'll understand. Be right back.”

She grabbed my robe and wrapped it over her underwear. The horn blared again, someone hammering it insistently. Tera disappeared for few moments. When she returned, she looked angry.

“What... what is it, Sweetheart?”

“Curt's an asshole. I told him I needed to stay with you, and he went ballistic. Called me a whore, said I probably had another guy in here, that's why I was in a robe. He called me a whore, can you believe that? I've never even kissed a guy, and I'm a whore? What an asshole.”

“Sorry, Tera... guess it's better you figured out he was an asshole like this than... some other way...” I flashed back to her crying openly, the mark on her face, the way he'd treated her leaving her feeling horrible. I was silently thankful that the date was off and that the fever dreams had proven true when it came to the type of guy Curt seemed to be.

“It's ok... just... was really looking forward to a real date... After that... I'm so glad it didn't happen. That guy's a jerk.”

“You'll find a better guy one day, Tera. I'm sure. He doesn't deserve you. You're beautiful and smart and you chose to nurse me instead of go out with him... who wouldn't want to date you...”

“Too bad I'm not dating you then, Dad. The nice guys are all taken.”

I managed a laugh, couldn't help but continue to feel glad that Curt had been outed and I had my daughter all to myself that night. I dozed off and forgot everything for some time.

- - -

Day 1.004

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I mashed the button on the alarm clock after a dozen attempts and a spilled glass of water later. I was groggy and couldn't quite recall when I'd gone to sleep. I remembered then being ill, Tera pressed next to me for a while, holding my head and keeping me calm. She'd cancelled her date with Curt and found out the hard way he was a prick.

I couldn't believe how real the fever dreams of killing the teen had felt. I glanced at my fingers, could still feel the warm blood on them. I'd always heard stories of people hallucinating with high fevers. After killing Curt, twice, and experiencing the raw emotions which led to those acts, I started to understand why they had affected sufferers so profoundly.

I stretched in the bed, nothing but cool sheets beside me. I sighed, knew I'd crossed the 1000 mark. I glanced at the clock. 5:30 PM it showed in muted red lines. Did I really sleep that long? And why had I set the alarm on a Saturday? I felt half a step off from reality for a moment, decided to go down and check on Tera, see if she was still upset about Curt.

I tossed on my robe to cover me in only my boxers and shuffled downstairs to the kitchen. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties. I stared a moment, not really seeing her. Something felt very odd.

Tera raised her eyebrows, wrinkled her nose, “Jesus, Dad. Like what you see?”

“Uh... what?”

“You're staring at me. Feel like I should be working it like a stripper.” She proceeded to exaggerate movements up and down an imaginary pole.

“Oh... Uh...” Something still felt odd as I looked away and tried to figure out how to make coffee in my state of mind. “No... I mean yes... Jesus, Tera. I just woke up. Stop screwing with me.”

“Ok, ok... just teasing, Dad. It's our thing, thought you liked it.”

“Yeah, I do. I know... Just... give me a minute.”

She peeled a banana, took a big bite. “Ok, but just a minute. I need to go get dressed. He'll be here soon.”

“Dressed? You didn't tell me you had plans for Saturday night.”

“Saturday? Uh, hello? It's Friday, Dad. My date with Curt is tonight, remember? You're paying for it?”

I froze. The only sound was the dripping coffee maker. “Curt? No, uh... that was last night, remember?”

She eyed me funny, nose crinkled. “Last night was Thursday and I had volleyball. This is Friday. Friday. Say it with me. Friiiii-daaaaaay.”

I remembered the welt on her cheek, Curt's blood on my fingers as I drove the knife in. I remembered her words the night before. She'd called him an asshole.

“Curt's a prick, remember? He called you a whore!”

“Whore?! He'd never call me that! He's a nice guy. He likes me dad.” She chomped the last bite of her banana, stomped her feet. “I don't know what's wrong with you, but pull it together. Curt will be here at six-thirty. You wanted to meet him before our date. I really don't need you saying things like that. He'll hate me and I'll be all alone again on a Friday night!”

Tera stormed off in the way only an angry teen girl can, leaving me confused and somewhat angry myself. Hadn't she told me he'd called her a whore? Wait, last night was date night! That's when it happened, Friday night. She'd helped me tend to my fever. I tried to shake myself, felt really uncomfortable.

I paced the kitchen until Tera came down later, wearing her mother's red dress. Deja vu pounded in my brain. She stopped halfway down, said, “calmed down yet?”

“You're not going.”

“What? You promised I could! Dad!” Tera was pissed.

“You're not going.'

“Why?!”

“I don't need to explain. You're not going. That's final.”

She started to cry and I felt horrible. I hated to see Tera's tears. Hated that I'd caused them. But whatever was going on, there was no way I was letting her anywhere near that asshole. She stormed up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.

A rumble came up the road and got louder as a huge truck pulled into the driveway. I knew it was Curt.

I went outside, glanced to the upper level, could see Tera looking out of her bedroom window. Curt's truck idled loudly, and he revved the engine twice before I could reach the driver's side door.

I rapped on the window and it slowly opened. “What's up, dude? Tera ready?”

“She's not going with you.”

“That's not cool man. She lied to me.”

“She didn't lie to you. I changed my mind.”

“Who the fuck are you, bro?”

“Not your bro, jackass. I'm Tera's father and I said she's not going.”

“Fuck. That's just wrong. Whatever. I'm outta here.”

He started to roll up his window.

I shouted, “what day is it?”

Curt paused, said through the crack, “huh?”

“I asked you 'what day is it'?”

“Fuck, man. It's Friday. You're crazy, bro.”

He slammed the truck in reverse and peeled out as he sped off.

I looked up, saw that Tera was crying briefly before she backed away from the window and disappeared.

I felt like shit. What if I had been wrong? What if the things I thought I knew about Curt had been dreams? Hadn't I had a fever? Maybe I was wrong. But the way he'd reacted when I told him said I was on the right track. He'd been an insensitive prick in his responses, and there was no way I'd allow Tera to see him after that. Ever.

I spent the night on the couch feeling bad for my daughter. I tried once to talk to her through her door, but she'd shouted for me to 'go away' enough times that I gave her some space and hoped to talk to her about it in the morning when we were both calmer. Perhaps my mind would be more clear then. I dozed on the couch for a while, decided to spend the night there, and pulled a small cushion over to use as a pillow as the television droned and faded into the background.

- - -

Day 1.005

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I mashed the button on the alarm clock after a dozen attempts and a spilled glass of water later. I was groggy, didn't recall coming to bed. I remembered curling up on the couch, deciding to sleep there instead of my bed. I must have been really out of it to make it up the stairs and not remember it. I'd never been a sleepwalker, that I knew of, but I supposed something like that must have happened.

I stretched and found the familiar cool, empty spot next to me. Was it #999, #1000, #1001? I'd lost track somewhere in the confusing recent days. It was just as well, it was a stupid habit which just reinforced that I'd been alone for far too long. I missed my ex-wife only in those moments. I loved waking up to feel a warm body beside me. I longed for her only for those few seconds each day.

I slipped on my robe, covering the boxers I wore, and went downstairs and into the kitchen. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties.

“Jesus, Dad. Rough night?”

I pushed away the weird sensation that I'd been through all this before. Several times. I mumbled something which she took as my signal to let me drink some coffee before asking questions, and bit into a banana. I downed the last of the coffee from that morning, the bitter, cold liquid barely palatable but full of the caffeine I knew I needed.

“I better go get dressed. He'll be here soon.”

I looked up as Tera smiled at me, nervous excitement in her eyes. “Tera... what day is it?”

“Seriously? Friday, Dad. Jesus.”

“Friday... right...”

She ran up the stairs and disappeared in her bedroom. Friday... What the hell was going on? Every fucking day is Friday? They couldn't have all been dreams. Could not have been possible. Even allowing for the fever dreams, the ones where I'd killed Curt, there were too many. I'd seen Tera standing in the kitchen, wearing that same bra, that same pair of panties, eating that same banana. It went beyond deja vu.

I felt stuck.

Before Tera walked down the stairs I knew what she'd be wearing. I watched her legs appear, followed by the swishing red dress that fit her maturing fifteen-year old body like a glove. She smiled, excitement and nerves on her face.

“Do I look ok, Dad?”

I didn't respond immediately and she started to twirl and pose. When I still said nothing, trying to understand what was going on, she frowned, said, “you're no fun. What's up with you tonight?'

“I... I don't know... not feeling well...”

“Ah... sorry. I can warm you some soup real quick.” My daughter was a true softy at heart. She cared about me deeply, and unlike some of my friends' daughters, she'd never gone through the selfish, mopey faze that most of the others seemed to wallow in.

“No, thanks... just gonna... go lay down a while.”

“Ok... There's Curt now! So, do I look ok?”

I nodded, said, “knockout. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks! See you tonight!”

“By midnight, Tera.”

“Midnight, I know!”

She closed the door and within moments the rumbling truck was gone down the road.

I laid on the couch a few moments, an intense sense of fear growing in my gut. What if the things I remembered about Curt had actually happened? What if, somehow, despite how unbelievable it might seem, Curt would again do the things he'd done to Tera those first two times? What if I could prevent it? Had to prevent it?

I sat up, then ran up the stairs, suddenly determined. I couldn't take the chance that the prick teen would hurt her again, hurt my daughter. Take her virginity and then treat her like shit. I'd rather go to jail over and over again than let that happen. I put on jeans and a loose shirt, grabbed my wallet, phone, and keys, and went back downstairs.

I paused in the kitchen, almost opened the knife drawer. It was a tough choice. I felt again the warm blood on my fingers. Curt's blood. I'd kill him every time if he hurt Tera.

If.

I could keep it from getting to that, I felt sure. Whatever happened that night, he wasn't going to fuck my daughter, nor was he going to strike her. I wasn't going to kill him.

Probably.

I left without the knife, knew that if it came to that I'd just strangle him. He was a big guy, but the strength I'd felt those moments, the rage I'd felt, I'd crush his windpipe like a straw if it came to that.

I didn't know where they were going to dinner but I parked near the movie theater. I sat patiently for over an hour before I heard then saw Curt's ridiculous truck pull in nearby and park. I saw him jump out of the cab and head toward the ticket booth. My daughter trailed behind. I smiled at seeing her. She looked nervous still, but she was smiling as she walked a few steps behind Curt.

I waited until they'd bought tickets and gone inside, then got one of my own. They were nowhere in sight. I bought a small drink and headed into the theater. I knew the reaction I was about to get.

As I rounded the corner and looked up at the seats, I saw Tera sitting next to Curt, talking with a smile on her face. She spotted me immediately. Her smile fell away to surprise.

She said something to Curt, raced down the steps to me. “Dad?! What are you doing here?”

I smiled, said, “came to see a Brad Pitt movie.” I showed her my ticket.

“You hate Brad Pitt!”

“I changed my mind.”

“Ahhrrrgg! You're spying on us, Dad! I know you are.”

“Don't know what you mean, Sweetheart. Just here to watch a movie.”

“Omph! Just... don't bother us, ok? This is supposed to be my first real date, Dad! That meant without you!”

I smiled again, saw that Curt had his face buried in his cell phone. “You won't even know I'm here.”

She stormed back to her seat and I took one a row behind them and a bit to Tera's right. The theater was half-empty, and the lights soon dimmed and the previews began.

- - -

The movie was terrible. Ten minutes in I hated it. Dunno why I hate Brad Pitt.

That's not true. I know exactly why I hate Brad Pitt. The first date I shared with my ex-wife, she'd said she thought I looked like Pitt. At the time, that was a compliment. I suppose I'd become so bitter about the way she'd treated me, treated us, in the end, I'd projected that onto anything Brad Pitt.

I smiled to myself despite the movie. I leaned to my left, spoke just loud enough that I knew Curt could hear me too. “Gonna get some popcorn, you two want some?”

Both heads turned, and the look in Tera's eye was not kind. “No!” Curt's face showed surprise. I doubted he'd even noticed my daughter had left long enough to yell at me before the film started.

I shrugged, said, “your loss.”

I sat back, stretched, went out to the lobby to refill my drink. I had no interest in popcorn, just needed to let Curt know I was there. Just enough to make him think I was spying on them, as Tera had accused. I was. There was no way that prick was going to do anything with my daughter that night. She'd be home well before midnight.

I went back in the theater and did my best not to hate Pitt quite as much.

- - -

It was closing in on 11:30 when the movie ended and my daughter and Curt stood to leave. Tera cast me a quick glance, frowned and rolled her eyes. They left together, her in front of him this time.

I followed well back, then as they neared his truck, I got close enough to say, “wow, look how late it got, guess you'd better bring her on home so she can get some beauty sleep.”

Tera's face showed her embarrassment.

I went to my car before either of them could reply.

I waited until the truck pulled out, then I followed them at a safe distance. I didn't really care if he could see me. Curt knew I was there.

The truck pulled into my driveway and I saw Tera get out. She went in the house and Curt left peeling tires. I pulled into the garage, parked, and entered the house.

“Dad! How could you? How could you?! You ruined everything!”

“What, Sweetheart? I was just watching a movie.”

“Oh, God, Dad! Seriously? This was supposed to be a real date! Don't you trust me? You said you trusted me!”

“I do trust you, Hon. However, I don't trust Curt. He's a prick.”

“Prick? He is a gentleman, Dad! He didn't even take the money you gave me, he paid for everything!” She let out a long, frustrated growl. “All I wanted was to feel like a grownup. Just one night. And you ruined it. I hate you, Dad!”

Tera stormed up the steps. I felt crushed. Not that I didn't expect her reaction, I just didn't expect how much I was impacted by her last words. I hate you, Dad. Tera had always been my softy, and although she had an edgy, sarcastic sense of humor, she never intentionally hurt anyone. It hurt me to hear her say that.

She stomped around her room, and I heard her crying as I stood outside. I'd gone to apologize, to try to make her understand.

But as I gathered my words in my head, it made no sense. He hit you! He called you names! After you'd given him the gift of your virginity, he treated you like a whore... worse than a whore! It clicked then that whatever I was experiencing was not affecting Tera. I remembered things so clearly, that Friday night playing out over and over, but Tera never retained what had happened.

I backed away from Tera's door, closed myself in my own. Her sobs muffled and eventually stopped. I felt terrible, and I knew she did too.

- - -

Day 1.006

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly... First, though, we've got an update on the fire down in the valley. Barbara, what do you have for us this Friday evening?”

I hit the button on the alarm clock smoothly. My first instinct was to reach blindly for the device, but something in my unconscious made me pause. I let it play longer this time, just to see if I could. The DJ went on with his narrative as if I hadn't interrupted him every time before.

My glass of water was still sitting on the night stand.

I sat up, and for the first time, I think I accepted I was trapped. I put on a robe and went downstairs. Tera was leaning against the counter, wearing only a white bra and dark-blue cotton panties.

Of course she was.

I laughed fully, perhaps a bit loudly, though it wasn't wholly mirth. The bizarreness of the repeating events was just surreal. Either I'd gone insane or something had broken in the way time moved. At least for me. No one else seemed to have been affected.

“Jesus, Dad. Waking and Baking?” She knew I used to smoke pot. I was fairly honest with my daughter.

“No, no... just had an odd thought. Guess you're getting ready for your date?”

She bit into a banana, said, “yeah. Can't wait!”

“Yeah, great. Well... shouldn't you go get dressed. Not going out like that.”

She stood, ran one hand from her right thigh to her left breast and on to her shoulder. “What's wrong with this? Tell me you wouldn't love to go out with a woman dressed like this.” She teased me easily, nothing but humor in the way we laughed about intimate things like that. We were close, we'd had to be. It wasn't easy dealing with the way Karen treated us and left us. I needed the humor from Tera as much as she needed mine. We just happened to have a slightly perverted way we went about it.

“No, and you aren't going out like that either. I'd have to kill that guy to keep him off of you.”

She pouted delightfully, though I felt a stab of anger as I flashed back to slamming my knife through Curt's throat.

Tera headed upstairs. I shouted up to her, “what about that red dress, Sweetie? The one your mom used to wear.”

She didn't answer. I made coffee, was drinking it when she returned.

Tera wore a thin blue top with tight black yoga pants.

Interesting.

“Not feeling the red dress?”

“Nah...”

“Well... you still look lovely.”

She smiled, turned around, “they make my butt look big.”

Tera's ass was thick for her size, round and pushed out from her back. Her hips were more narrow than her butt would suggest, and it made her ass look even bigger by comparison. “They certainly do, they certainly do...”

I stared just a second too long. “Jesus, Dad. Like what you see?”

“Maybe. Depends on if that butt is back in this house before Midnight. Otherwise, I might have to spank it. Understand?”

She laughed, looked excited again.

When Curt arrived, I was at his door before Tera was inside. I waved and smiled at him.

Curt rolled down the window. “What's up, bro?”

“Not much, bro,” I replied. “Just wanted to wish you a fun night with my daughter.”

“Thanks, bro! It's gonna be awesome.”

“I'm sure it will, I'm sure it will...”

I went back inside as he left the driveway. I wasn't going to follow them all night, only the part after the movie. There was no chance I could sit through the Brad Pitt movie again without throwing things at the screen.

- - -

I stayed a few cars back as Curt turned the truck down the road towards my house. I wasn't sure where they'd parked to have sex, but it had to be nearby my home. Two blocks from my property, Curt turned the vehicle into an abandoned business and pulled around back.

I called 911.

“911 emergency, what is the nature of your call?”

“Police.”

“What do you need, sir?”

“I just saw something suspicious. A truck pulled behind this place on Helena Road, the abandoned video store that used to be Toby's. Think I've seen it parked there at odd hours at night.”

“Stay on the line a moment.” There was a pause. “We have a patrol vehicle a block away, he'll be there momentarily. They'll check it out.”

“Thank you.” I hung up.

As soon as I saw the police car pull slowly around the building and turn on its spotlight, I raced home.

- - -

It only took a few minutes before there was a knock at the door. When I saw Tera pouting, a tall police officer standing a foot away, I did my best not to smile. “Tera? What's going on?”

“Sir, I am Officer Gerald Kensey. Your daughter is fine, just had a small incident with a young man she was with, a Mr. Curtis Hutchison. Were you aware your daughter was out with this man?”

“I was, they were supposed to be going to dinner and movie.”

“They appear to have sir, but we got a call about a suspicious vehicle parked at the old Toby's location down the road.” I wondered if they'd connected that call to me yet. “Didn't find anything suspicious, aside from trespassing. He was aggressive with the responding officer, so they've taken him downtown. I'm just delivering you what I know along with your daughter. She's not under suspicion of any wrongdoing at this time.”

“Well... that is concerning, Officer Kensey.” I didn't have to feign my outrage as the thought of what Curt was about to do to my daughter brought me back to seriousness. “I thank you for seeing Tera home safely. My appreciation.”

“No problem, sir. Have a good night.”

Tera slunk inside and I closed the door behind me. I softened, asked, “you ok, sweetheart?”

My daughter turned quickly, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tight hug. “Yeah... just... scared...”

“I, uh... I guess you and Curt were stopping off for something more than a movie, right?”

She didn't respond for a few seconds. “I don't know. Maybe. We were just talking when the cop came. We didn't even kiss...”

“What happened, exactly? What did Curt do to get taken to jail?”

“He started arguing with the cop, told him his dad was a state senator, that he could do what he wanted. Then he refused to get out of the truck. He was a real asshole, Dad. It was only when the other cops came that he got out. Even then, he was a dick.” Tera sighed, “Glad I didn't kiss him.”

That made me feel better immediately. “Well... you know what you do with your body... it's your decision. Whether kissing or something more... Just... I'd like to see you give that sort of gift to someone better than Curt.”

“Yeah... maybe someday. Not going out with him ever again. Ever again.” She sighed once more, “just need to find someone like you, I guess. Someone who just gets me...”

I held her tight, kissed her cheek. I liked this ending more than the ones before. I'd have to figure out a way to make it less depressing for her, at least my daughter was in my arms, and she was safe.

- - -

Day 1.007

“Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run girl
You're much too young girl...”

“That was 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap from 1968. One that takes us all back to the days when rock was young, and we were, too. Coming up, a classic from Buddy Holly...”

I found the following morning that groggy was an odd state. Somewhere between awake and asleep, but parts of my senses were fully aware, others not so much. My mind raced as I hit the alarm clock. I actually felt a thrill to again relive the Friday night. I knew that a few hours from then I'd be holding Tera in my arms and Curt would be in jail.

After going through the motions, I placed the same call to 911 and waited at home for Tera to arrive with the cop. In those moments, I realized that this would get monotonous fast. Sure, I loved to hold Tera, but doing the sames things over and over was going to be depressingly dull even as soon as the next day. I had to find a way to cut each night's date with Curt short as quickly as possible.

It was then that I realized something else. I could be out doing something myself each night. Things I might regret if I had to wake up the next day. But I never woke up the next day. There'd be nothing to regret.

Like picking up a hooker. I'd only done it once before, when I was twenty-one and full of raging hormones. I took my chances, spent five minutes fucking an older woman with a loose pussy, and felt like I'd have rather spent the time and money drinking with my friends.

But she was a streetwalker. I mean no disrespect at all toward her. She had one job, and that was to make herself available for a pump and dump. She had, and I did. I was interested in someone with a bit more to offer. A classy escort was in order.

When Tera arrived, I hugged her awhile before suggesting she go settle into bed. After she'd done so, I started searching Backpage.com for providers in the area.

I found several, some of them quite attractive. One caught my eye, a short brunette who said she offered “the complete GFE you dreamed about.” Bobbi's pictures were sexy, her face obscured but her barely-covered breasts and genitals showed heavy, moderate-sized tits and hips which screamed 'hot milf.' I made a mental note to look her up again the next day and tucked myself into bed, hoping that the next day I'd find a way to cut Curt out of the picture and free up my night.

- - -

Day 1.008

I stayed in bed a few minutes after waking, trying to decide on what to do. I didn't want to go the route where Tera said she hated me or otherwise went off crying. I couldn't go have fun while my daughter was miserable. If I tried to prevent Tera from going, it would end badly. I wondered if there was a way to keep Curt from being able to pick her up.

I went downstairs knowing that I had about half an hour to do whatever I was going to do while Tera was putting on her clothes and makeup. “Gonna run a quick errand!” I told her as she went up the stairs.

I jumped in my car and sped down to Curt's house. I parked along the street, considered my options. Setting fire to the place seemed a bit extreme, and killing him was much too traumatizing to consider.

Instead, I grabbed the screwdriver from the dash, snuck over to his truck, and in sixty seconds had managed to slash all four tires and leave them flat. I backed away slowly, got in my car, and returned home.

Moments later Tera came down wearing the red dress. I watched her a moment, told her she was gorgeous and waited.

Curt didn't show. When Tera called his cell phone, I could hear him shouting and cursing. Tera couldn't get a word in. He was rude to her and she slammed her finger on the 'End Call' button, huffing. “Jesus. What a jerk.”

“What happened?”

“All his tires are flat so he canceled on me. Ugh... another Friday night like every other.”

I sympathized, “Sorry, Sweetheart.”

She let out a frustrated groan, said, “I'm just going to go to bed, Dad. Ugh.”

I gave her a hug, and she hugged me back loosely. “Ok. I may go meet a couple of the guys for drinks in a bit, shouldn't be out too late. If you need anything, call me, ok?”

“Alright.”

She slunk off to her room and I slipped into the den with my laptop. I found Bobbi's listing and called the number.

It rang three times and a woman's voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Bobbi?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, Bobbi. My name's Frank.” It didn't make any sense to use my real name. “I was wondering if you had any availability tonight?”

“You're in luck if you can get here soon. Just had a cancelation. How long you looking to hang out?”

“Hour or so.”

“Sure, that will work. My hourly donation is $200. Give me a few and I'll text you the address. Once you get here, text me and I'll send you the room number.”

She hung up and I waited, excited, feeling like a schoolboy.

A message came in from Bobbi for an address a couple of miles away. I looked it up, found it to be one of several hotels in that area. I ran to the shower and cleaned up quickly, threw on a nice pair of slacks and a collared shirt, grabbed four of the hundred-dollar bills I kept hidden in my dresser for emergencies, and tore out of my driveway, heading for my first sexual experience in over two years.

I pulled in to the hotel and texted Bobbi. She sent back, room 310 and a smiley face. I tried to calm my racing nerves, realized I had no condoms, hoped she provided her own. I went inside, didn't make eye contact with the desk clerk, just headed for the elevator. I went up two floors and found the room quickly. I knocked three times softly.

A moment later and the door opened, a short, curvy brunette smiling at me, wearing only a silky robe. She closed the door behind me as I stepped in, said, “hi, I'm Bobbi.”

“Frank... err... actually, Quinn.”

“Quinn. Neat name. Care for a drink?”

“Love one.”

“Rum and coke okay?”

“Sure.”

“Have a seat on the couch and we'll talk.”

Bobbi made us drinks and I slipped $200 onto the coffee table. She sat beside me, put the cash in a small pouch at her feet. I was actually shaking I was so nervous. It had been a long time since I'd been with anyone but my ex-wife.

“So, Quinn. What are you interested in doing?”

“GFE sounds good, sex...”

“Great. Why don't you lean back, let me get you started.” I settled back and she straddled my hips, brought her lips to mine. We kissed a moment, Bobbi's moderate-sized breasts pressed against me, her nipples hard under the robe. She ran her hands over my head, down my neck, and back up again.

Whether it was an act or not, I was believing it every time she broke our kiss to sigh or pant. Bobbi started whispering in my ear, “mmm... you feel so good... I'm getting wet just kissing you...” She became passionate, playful, running her hands to her breasts and holding them as her lips slid to my neck and shoulders. “Oh, Quinn... mmm... yes, touch me there...”

I had slid my hands to her back and then down to her ass. She moaned into my chest as I squeezed her ass cheeks. She wore no panties, and I swept my fingers through her crack, grazing her bald pussy. She moaned again, started to rock on my lap. She kissed my lips again, her tongue twirling mine, her body moving with me.

I let her lead, my nerves giving way to arousal. I grew stiff and pressed against Bobbi's inner thigh. Her hand drifted down, took my penis in her hand, and stroked it slowly. She whispered, “I bet you want to put that inside me...”

“God yes...”

She reached over to a bag sitting on the next cushion and pulled out a condom. Without breaking our kiss, she somehow tore open the wrapper with one hand and slowly rolled the rubber over my leaking cock.

“I'm ready for you, Quinn... I want you inside me...”

“Oh, God...” I moaned as I felt the heat of Bobbi's pussy press down on my dick. She moved forward slightly, then sat down slowly, my penis sinking into her body. She moaned into my mouth as she mounted me, her cunt taking me inside comfortably.

While Bobbi wasn't tight, she made up for it with the expert movements, the carefree sighs and moans. I pulled the robe off her then, sucked on her ample, round tits. Bobbi had large brown areolae, her hard nipples large and easy to suck.

She rode me steadily. Not too fast, not too slow. I didn't feel rushed and that may have contributed to the way I came so quickly. I'd never been one to do that, but it had been so long, and Bobbi's body felt so good riding me that I let myself go. I groaned, Bobbi sensed my urgency, broke our kiss to whisper, “cum in me, Quinn... cum in my pussy...”

I grunted, my cock tingling, swelling. I felt my balls draw up, tight, tense, and I ejaculated into my condom. Bobbi kissed my neck as I came, her body rising and falling as semen flooded the rubber. I imagined I was filling her pussy instead.

I buzzed and felt energized. Bobbi slowed, looked into my eyes, and smiled. “Mmm... think you liked that. And we're just getting started.”

While I was awash in pleasure, Bobbi rose off me and looked at my still-hard penis. She knelt down, pulled the condom off and tossed it in a nearby trash can. She eyed my genitals a moment, ran her hands across my balls, and then through my public hairs. The woman took hold of my shaft with her fist and started to slowly jack me off.

I stayed hard, still highly aroused. Bobbi took me in her mouth, swallowing some of the small globs of semen that had not come off with the condom. The woman mewled as she sucked me, and I had no doubt that I squeezed more sperm out as she bobbed. I ran my fingers through her hair.

I knew it was an act when she slid off my penis a moment, ran her lips down my shaft, said just a bit too obviously, “oh, Quinn... your cock is perfect... you taste so good... mmmmohhmm...” and my dick was in her mouth once more. I didn't care if it was an act. It was convincing and I was incredibly horny.

I pulled her to her feet and pushed her down on the couch. “Can I eat your pussy?”

“Sure.”

I knelt and slid my fingers through her snatch. Bobbi was shaved bald, only a touch of stubble on her Mons. Her labia were a light-brown, her clit moderate-sized under a fleshy hood. I parted her lips, saw the creamy slickness within. I slipped two fingers inside her easily. Bobbi moaned and leaned back, closing her eyes, her hands massaging her breasts.

Her vagina was hot inside, deep, slippery. I felt her squeeze her channel around my penetration, her clit rising and peeking out from under the hood. I ran my thumb over her nub, felt her tense, her hips starting to sway. Back and forth I swept my thumb, two fingers held deep inside her cunt. I rubbed along the rough patch on the top of her vagina, felt her body tighten and strain.

Bobbi let out a long moan, pinching her own nipples as her thighs squeezed tighter. I dropped my thumb, put my head close to her snatch, and ran my tongue in circles around her hard clitoris.

Bobbi exploded, “oooooohhhwwwa.... oooohhhhwwaaa... OOOHHHHWWAAA... AAAAAAAAYYYHHHAAAAA...” Juices drooled down my fingers, lightly creamy, milky. I pulled them free, lapped quickly through her labia, sucking in the sweet and sour tartness coating her flesh. I was so fucking aroused. If that was fake, it was perfectly done.

I looked up to see Bobbi's eyes watching me, her mouth open, panting hard. I rose and pulled her to her feet, turned her around. She handed me another condom and I put it on. Bobbi stroked me a couple of times and then braced herself against the couch cushion.

I pushed my dick between her sloppy labia and slid inside. Bobbi moaned on cue and I quickly started stroking myself in and out of her. She was looser this time, but I wasn't complaining. Bobbi was snug enough, slick, her body a nice mix of curvy and milfy. I grabbed her waist, watched my covered penis sliding in and out of her hole, Bobbi's labia trailing out each time I slid back. Her tight anus was sweaty and dark-brown just above.

I shuddered and came hard, filling the condom tip and continuing to pound Bobbi's body. I held deep inside her, ejaculating the smaller load as powerfully as I had the first. My orgasm peaked and I felt myself grow warm and relaxed. I pulled out of Bobbi and collapsed beside her on the couch.

She smiled at me, eyes half-open, curled up beside me. Bobbi leaned in, kissed my neck, then my lips, ran her hands to my chest and head.

It felt wonderful. It had been so long since I'd had sex, longer still since I'd enjoyed the person I was with. Bobbi was an excellent provider. We spent the next half-hour cuddling and kissing, a real girlfriend experience, just as promised. She never rushed me or made me feel like she didn't want to be there.

She offered to blow me again before I left, but I told her it would probably take me too long to cum. Bobbi smiled, said it would be her pleasure, and sank to her knees. Ten minutes later, I came in her mouth. She didn't swallow, spitting the cum into a napkin. I pulled her up, kissed her again, tasted the sperm still coating her tongue.

I pulled out the other $200 in my pocket, slid it onto the table. I told her I'd see her again, that I'd be a regular. I asked her for a standing appointment every Friday, same time. She smiled, kissed my cheek, and said she'd be happy to do so.

She had no idea exactly how regular that appointment could be.