Page 10 of Band of Brothers - MFMM Menage Romance (Sweet Treats 8)

He stares at me.

“Right, but didn’t Alizeh tell you that that’s what was going to happen?”

“She did!” I exclaim. “But not in any sort of detail. I thought I was going to go out, smile, curtsey, and do the standard debutante stuff. I didn’t know I was going to wear a negligee with stripper heels, and then be asked to show myself to your friends!”

My dad stares at me.

“Did you do it?”

Rage suffuses my form once more.

“I DID! That’s the worst part!” I almost scream again. “I did it, and I liked it!”

Now, my dad’s utterly confused. Owen sits down in a nearby chair and buries his head in his hands before looking up again. His black hair is ruffled and weariness emanates from his slumped shoulders. He lifts his head, and there’s defeat in his blue gaze.

“So what happened, June? Why were you running like a bat out of hell? What went wrong?”

I stare at him, tempted to scream again, but obviously, that approach isn’t working. Instead, I gingerly lower myself into the chair opposite my dad.

“What happened is that I was in the spotlight dancing before your male friends, and I liked it,” I manage in a choked voice. “But then I saw … I saw …”

My dad shoots me a searching gaze.

“What did you see, honey? What was so terrible?”

My face crumples and I bury it in my hands as the tears begin to roll.

“I saw that,” I manage in a choked whisper. “It was so big and huge, and I guess I just panicked. I didn’t realize that was going to happen.”

Realization dawns on my father’s face.

“You saw your initiator’s tool,” he says slowly.

I look up, my face tear-stained and blotchy.

“I was trying to go with the flow,” I respond in a dull voice. My eyes stare straight ahead, and yet I see nothing. “Just like you and Alizeh said. Just go with the flow. Feel the beat. Give into the rhythm. I was doing okay, or so I thought, but then I looked up and there was that. He was huge, Daddy,” I say in a tiny whisper. “I can’t take something like that into me. It would destroy me,” I say in a low voice.

Sympathy fills my dad’s face.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. “It’s my fault. I should have prepared you better. I should have told you what was coming –”

I interrupt then.

“You didn’t tell me anything! At least, not anything specific. You left it all to Alizeh, and she was freaked out too. She couldn’t get the words out, and as a result, I had no idea what was going to happen during the ceremony.”

My dad looks down at his clasped hands, his shoulders slumping again.

“I know, baby girl. I’ve failed in my efforts to show you how to be a woman. This whole thing has been a giant clusterfuck, and it’s my fault. I never should have introduced you to the club, much less set you up for an initiation.”

I sit up rigidly, staring at him.

“While we’re on the subject of the club,” I say in a tight voice. “What is it exactly that Dads and Daughters does? Don’t leave out any details,” I say stiffly.

Owen stares at the ground again, and come to think of it, I’ve never seen someone look so defeated. My dad is big, but he seems to shrink into himself so that he appears old and frail. Wrinkles bracket his eyes and mouth, and even his shoulders seem to wilt a bit.

“Dads and Daughters is about truckers,” he begins.

“I know that,” I say in a clipped voice. “I’ve heard some of this already. Let’s get to the juicy parts that you left out.”

My dad inhales again, still not meeting my eyes.

“June, life on the road is difficult for truckers. We’re alone a lot, and often for weeks at a time. So we set up a system where young, nubile women come to rest stops to service us. It works out because the women get to be with older alpha males who care about them, while we have our needs met by beautiful, willing girls. That’s Dads and Daughters in a nutshell for you.”

I stare at him.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me this at the beginning? Why did you keep beating around the bush? It only took three sentences and thirty seconds.”

Owen scrubs his face, looking even more defeated than before.

“I don’t know, June. I just couldn’t. I’m ashamed to even be telling you about our arrangement now. It’s not something that fathers usually want for their daughters.”

I stare at him.

“But you wanted it for me.”

“Yes,” says Owen. “No. I don’t know,” he says, his expression conflicted.

“Is it because I dress like a goth and have weird friends?” I ask, feeling confused myself. “Is it because I get straight A’s? I really don’t get it, Owen. Why did you want me to join?”