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"Huh?" I said, shocked he'd go this far.
"Now!" He barked.
"It's my car. You can't take my car keys," I said.
"The hell I can't. I paid for that car, and it's in my name. Now hand the goddamn car keys over." He said.
I shook my head. I felt like crying. How had things gotten this bad between us. When mom and he had first married, it was almost like I'd had a new best friend. God, how things had soured.
I sighed. I handed him the keys.
"Fuck you." I said.
...
I went to my room. I stripped off my clothes until I had nothing on but my panties and beat up old tank top. Then I turned up the radio full blast.
I alternated between screaming at the top of my lungs and crying.
"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" I shouted into the air.
Then I'd sob. Then I'd start yelling again.
Kane must have knocked on the door. He always did. But I just didn't hear him, I'm sure.
So I was surprised when he opened the door.
I sat there in my lace panties and torn up tank top. Jesus Christ! You could practically see my boobs through that tank top. And you sure as well could catch a glimmer of my pubic hair through the lace panties.
And there were tears all over my face. I tried to say something. I wanted to shout at Kane. I wanted to scream at him.
Instead I just looked at him. I stared right at him.
And he froze, too. His mouth nearly fell open. And he stared right at me.
I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I just did it. I brought my hands up to my chest. I put them right under my breasts. I pushed up at them.
"Yeah, I got hooters, too, just like my mom." I said. "Guess with all my baggy clothing you never noticed. Come on in, Daddy. I'll fuck you."
