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BRAT HITS JACKPOT!
I watched my new Daddy cleaning his gun.
Shit. He kept that thing whistle clean. He cleaned it damn near every day. I didn't know what for. It's not like he ever used it.
At least not since he'd been my daddy. Which had only been about two months.
I guess these days you can't be too safe.
I liked to watch him clean it. That man had a way with his hands. He had strong powerful fingers. And he'd just slide them along the shaft of that pistol after he was done.
I sighed just watching!
"I turned eighteen last week," I said. "When are you gonna take me out shooting?"
My new Daddy looked at me. Shit, those eyes! They were the color of steel. And they shot right through you like daggers. I swear, that man could just kill you with his eyes.
Hell, he didn't need his pistol.
"Who said I was gonna take you out shooting?" He said. "Not me."
"But you're my daddy." I said. "Ain't that what daddies are supposed to do."
He blinked at that.
Like I said, he'd only been married to my mom a couple of months. And to tell you the truth I wasn't even sure why he'd married her. I thought he could have done way better.
But my mommy had connections every which way in city hall. And Daddy had a record. So I guess she was helping keep him under the radar.
He promised her he'd keep clean. But I had to wonder. I mean with him cleaning his gun every day. I thought maybe he had something planned. Like a bank robbery or something.
I figured I should ask. You know, just in case.
"So you gonna be robbing a bank or something?" I asked him.
Oh, the way he looked at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been dead ten times over.
"Don't you have something to do? You know, like play with your dolls or something?" He said.
"Yeah, well fuck you, too." I said.
He shrugged.
"Anyway, I don't need to rob any bank. I got loads of money coming in." He said.
"Yeah, right, that's why you're home right now on a working day, cleaning your gun." I said. "Because you got so much money coming in."
Daddy reached into his front shirt pocket. He pulled out a small piece of paper. He showed it to me. It was a lottery ticket.
I blinked.
"I had high expectations for you as my new daddy," I said. "But they're fading fast."
"Shit. This ticket's got the perfect number," he said. "It's gonna win. There ain't no doubt in my mind about that."
"What? You got inside information or something." I said. "You running some kind of scam or something?"
He smiled a big lopsided grin.
Shit! Could he be serious?
"How much are you getting?" I said.
"One hundred grand," he said. "Now who's your daddy?"
"I'll believe it when I see it." I said.
Then about an hour later we were both sitting on the sofa watching the numbers coming in.
I had to wonder what Daddy would do if he got a hundred thousand grand. I mean my mom had been clear she was too old for any more rug rats. And Daddy had gone on about how he wanted some.
So if Mommy wasn't delivering, and Daddy had a hundred thousand grand, then what'd that say about our little family.
A kind of didn't want him to win. I liked having around my new daddy. I especially enjoyed watching him clean his gun every day. You know, with those nimble fingers of his.
And it's not like he was bad looking. Shit! He was lean, but taut. You know? Muscle after muscle rippling beneath the skin. And those tattoos.
I admit though. His face was scary. He had a small tattoo on one side, and a scar on the other.
But I guess if I was being honest with myself, I'd have to say it. He turned me on. Something fierce.
