Daddy Issues

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Sloane Walsh has dreamt all her life of getting to meet her father. Unfortunately. The sayings “careful what you wish for” and “Mom knows best” are about to ring painfully true for Sloane. Is the price worth the reward? Will she meet the father she’s dreamt about or the man her mom protected her from her entire life? The answer is complicated.

Erotica / Romance
4.8 8 reviews
Age Rating:

Ch. 1

The last twenty-four hours were just snapshots. Traumatic snapshots and clips of unforgivable words. First a police officer in the entrance of the home I shared with my mom. The young officer had trouble spitting out the words. Why he was standing in my door frame with an unmistakable look of pity. Why my mother hadn’t come home. Eventually the words formed from his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I can contact a family member to come get you”

The heat in my face as I informed him I didn’t know who my father was. Embarrassment, as I told him my mother’s family hate me. My vision blurry as I silently wept. Not for the loss of my mother. There was no time to mourn. No, I silently cried for the uncertainty that came next.

The screams of my aunt blaming me for this. Somehow a complete accident I was nowhere near was my fault. It was my fault my mother was crushed on impact. If she had aborted me she wouldn’t have been out so late shopping for my birthday party tomorrow. She wouldn’t have been out overcompensating with material items because no one but her would attend. Because the gifts are how she showed her mass amount of love for me. She was forever trying to fill the hole I had.

How after the police left my aunt demanded I pack. “Your no blood of mine! I’m riding this family of you tonight!” The fear and confusion. “Don’t look at me like that I won’t ruin my life no I’m taking you to your piece of shit father” her assaulting words felt like they would go on forever. The realization that she must know who my father is. That I was going to meet my father. That I wouldn’t be stuck with her or in a group home for the remainder of my adolescence.

I remember mindlessly packing all I could fit in my suitcase and grasping the discarded stuffed animal of my childhood. It was worn, a hand me down of my moms. It was my mother to me. Ripped away by my aunt. “This was my sister's thief! You're trying to steal! That’s so like you Byrne’s to do! All you do is take and rape. You filth.”

“Get out!”



I come back to my present just as pain shoots from my shoulder as my aunt's husband yanks me out of the beat up SUV. My bare knees impact on what feels to be gravel. Wiping my unspilled tears away to clear my vision. It’s still pitch black out and we appear to be parked in some sort of rough looking trailer park. Occupants from every one begin to pile out of their homes from the commotion my aunt is causing.

She is looking every which way screaming “DONOVAN BYRNE” “DONOVAN BYRNE” “DONOVAN BYRNE” her red hair full of static and her once perfected face all distraught and hysterical. I hadn’t seen her but a couple times in all my life. This was the first I’d ever seen her with so much as a hair out of place. She screams the name over and over again until she gets a response from the man that owns the name. Over the residents screaming insults at her a man’s voice booms. “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SCREAMING FOR ME, YOU CRAZY CUNT”

The sea of rough looking strangers parts and a massive man walks through looking at my aunt then to me. “Oh I just wanted to make sure you collected your little bastard.” My aunt's voice is filled with even more malice than normal. “Bullshit I don’t have a kid and I sure as fuck never fucked you” the man responds chuckling. It’s too dark to make out anyone’s features. The impact of my suitcase being chucked at me topples me completely over. I didn’t know I was wheezing until I felt arms around me and everyone got ten times louder.

“Oh my lord she is shaking like a leaf. Honey are you okay? Oh my lord who are you crazy people!” An older woman's voice cries out as she embraces me almost In a protective way. At Least that’s how it feels. “Oh that thing is yours alright you fucking rapist! Look at her eyes! That’s enough to prove paternity. She has that same mark of satan birthmark just like her father!” My aunt raves more but I can’t make anything out.

Someone lifts my chin and shines light into my eyes. I incoherently smack at the light and try to cover my eyes. “Donovan, it's true, she has to be yours” the same older woman's voice says. My aunt and her husband hurriedly get into there SUV as the mob now swarms them yelling profanities. Nearly ran me over in their hasty get away. I can’t even move or scream like everyone else. I’m just numb and frozen in place. So many voices so many inconceivable events to process. My eyelids flutter and my body shakes until everything is black.

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