His Daughter Naught

I feel Heather's presence behind me while I watch ball game in the living room. I know what she wants. She's been rehashing to me her plans of leaving home. Of leaving me. It fucking tears my heart each time she says it. And I keep brushing her off.

Heather has been demanding for days for her credentials, of where I put them so she can enroll for the next semester. I don't tell her where. I just keep telling her to weigh her options before finalizing her decision. But where I'm stubborn, Heather is also persistent.

I turn the TV off and stand. I'm entirely aware that I'm acting an ass dad right now. I swear to God I've been close to a perfect father when it comes to Heather's wellbeing. But now that she's talking about leaving, I won't be sorry to pull some asshole stunts just to make her stay.

I walk across the living room to climb up my bedroom. As anticipated, Heather calls me. By my name. No more daddy calling. No more warmth. Just cold Brand like we're just mere acquaintances. And it honestly riles me up. I fucking hate the sound of my name on her tongue.

I stop at the bottom of the stairs and raise a brow at her, waiting for her to speak. When she starts bugging me about her papers again, I raise my hand up, telling her to give it up before I continue climbing the stairs. I feel her following me into my bedroom.

"Listen, Brand!" Heather starts, pushing my door open as she lets herself in. "I think you're doing this on purpose. I told you I want my papers so I can enroll for the next semester. Why aren't you giving them to me?"

"I told you to think about it even more." I answer as I turn and glare down at her. "I think you're being impulsive, sweetheart." I retort, mocking my endearment to her.

Heather cringes at my tone before she catches her composure. "I'm not being impulsive. I told you I want to leave this goddamn place! Can't you understand? I don't want to be here anymore. I hate it here! I hate you!"

That's a fucking blow to my gut. I feel like there's a crack to my heart that's slowly spreading, breaking and crashing it into tiny pieces. I've never seen Heather this upset. Never heard her say she hates me. In fact, she always says she loves me and I always return the words as often.

But this… This is just too much to bear. I'm done. I'm done being nice. My resolve has ended and I let the beast in me reign.

"You know what, you're right." I say and wipe my mouth with my hand. "You're right." I nod and chuckle without humor. "You should leave. You're right to hate me, Heather. You should really leave."

Heather doesn't answer but I catch her surprise, her eyes going wide in pain. I round her frozen form, slamming the door shut behind her before stepping in front of her again.

"You know why you're right to leave me?" I slowly ask rhetorically; my tone is even as if I'm only playing guess a word with her. "You want to know why you should hate me, Heather? Do you know why? Hmm?" I lift her chin up and let her see me in the eyes. "Because I'm a bad daddy, Heather. You should hate me because I steal your panties and use them to jack off my cock in my bedroom."

Heather gasps, her eyes going round in another blow of shock.

"I visit your bedroom every night and watch you sleep while I play with myself, biting my tongue so you won't wake up from my sound." I circle around her like an animal on the hunt, my eyes scanning her entire form and appreciating every damn curve she has. "When you walk in front of me, I always imagine you prancing naked in my house, ready and wet for my cock. When I rub myself, I think of my hand as your twat, Heather, imagine it being your mouth and sometimes your ass."

"D-dad…" Heather stammers, her breathing is shallow and fast.