The Sins of the Fathers Ch. 27

***** Writer's note: Our story moves onward towards an inevitable end. Hang on to yourself! The way is dark and full of fears. Will Jack's secret be revealed.

SHOW ME!

Paul Traynor stood before the bench, accused of Statutory Rape and Incest. He pleaded guilty to both. It was not a lengthy trial; and, it got very little publicity, since no reporters were allowed. It was held before a Judge. There was no jury.

The defendant went to jail; it wasn't a long sentence, but it meant he would never be a school principal anywhere--ever again.

'Under the Mistletoe!' was sealed by the court. Locked in an evidence room, it would fade from the memory of man. No one got to see the video--not even the Judge.

Judge Jethro Jacobs washed his hands after the ruling. His ruling was not appealed.

Wendy Traynor filed for divorce. She asked for the house and half of the PERA retirement account.

Chelsea was emancipated, and never had to testify against her father. This time, she didn't even have to say, "Bye, Daddy!", when he was hauled off to jail.

Jack Grant leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and just thought about the future. It was all probabilities, but some were almost certain. Jack contemplated the outcomes of this day in court.

They will never identify Dad, the Impaler.

Spencer will not get to plead his 'civil asset forfeiture theory' to the Oregon's high court.

This fall, Deputy District Attorney Riley will probably run for District Attorney based on a fine record of putting bad guys away. He may even be recognized by the State Bar Association for his work protecting victims of crime.

Our law firm will be paid the sum of $15,389.15. And to prove we are the good guys, Spencer and I will create an account in the name of Chelsea Traynor and deposit the proceeds of the case therein.

It's a certainty that Jennifer will call me an asshole, at least one more time, when we give her the letter of deposit for Chelsea. Dr. Sam will call me an asshole, too--right before she kisses me. Asshole will come to simply mean 'we love you!'.

Jennifer Justice Grant will most certainly have her name changed to Jennifer Green.

The trial is finally over! Life will gradually return to normal. Every major crisis in my life is under control. All the fires are out. Life is good, again. Maybe, just maybe all will finally be well!

It was past midnight and already into the wee hours of Saturday morning at the Grant home. Nikki was still out with MacKenzie, probably dancing. Jessica and Jack had returned home after the 'Inferno'. Jack had danced until his legs gave out and Jessica let him take her home.

Currently, she was on her knees, crawling around under Jack's desk and checking out his computer's set-up with a small flashlight stuck in her mouth. She twisted a few screws on the computer's case, popped the side-cover. She took the light from her lips and whistled. Holy shit!

His new iPhone rang and Jack picked it up. It was Samantha Green. "Jack, the girls are spending the night and, maybe, tomorrow here, if that's okay."

"I thought they were out dancing."

"They were, but they had a little too much to drink and their ride brought them here. They believe both you and Spencer have dates tonight?"

Jessica hadn't heard the phone. "No dust? Who the fuck has a computer with no dust in the fans?"

Samantha heard a young woman's voice and smiled. "Is that Jessica I hear? What's she doing?"

"She's under my desk ... "

Samantha Green laughed out loud. I just bet she is!

"Hey, Jess! Samantha says, 'Hi'; she's curious what you're doing under my desk."

"Tell her 'Hi!' but I can't talk with my mouth full. What with the flashlight and all! 1600W power supply? That's like thirty-two 50W light bulbs on at once! That's enough electricity to light a small village in Mexico. How do you keep this from tripping the breakers?"

"I had the den rewired to a separate circuit with a heavier breaker and wiring."

Sam interrupted, "Jack, could we get back to the girls?"

"Sure, not a problem! Do I need to come get them tomorrow? Have you let Spencer know?"

"We called Spencer, because MacKenzie needs to stay here too. Tammy answered the phone, but she couldn't talk with her mouth full either."

From below his desk, they both heard, "Jack, hang up the fucking phone and try to concentrate. I don't want to be down here on my knees all night."

Dr. Sam laughed. "Night, Jack." That can't be what it sounded like. But, you just never know.

Jessica looked back over her ass. "Okay, let me see ... there are ... What the fuck, Jack?! This machine has four video-cards. That's a lot of heat; what do you do with it?"

"See the large black six-inch ventilation hose that goes from the computer to the wall? Blows the heat outside like a washer-dryer exhaust."

"Jack, you've got more raw computational power than we used to get to the moon in the Apollo program, or the space shuttle, or the orbiting International Space Station. You could use this extra computational power to help SETI search for life 'out there' or gene-sequencing for a disease cure."

Jack's face spread in a Cheshire-Cat smile. Yes, I know. And the power is mine—all mine! Nyah-ha-ha!

"Hell, some of the guys I have dated in college didn't have a computer this nice. They were 'gamers'. All they did was play games and go to class. Jack, this is a very nice computer."

"I know."

"Jack, I just don't get it." She slowly crawled out from under the computer. "You don't use a smart phone. You don't know how to use text messages or change the ringtones, but you have this. That's a lot of power, just to watch a little porn on the Internet. Where did you get it?"

"I built it." Jack smiled, proudly. "And, it's not for porn. I don't actually look at porn."

"Yeah, right! Even my dad looks at porn! No man is impervious to porn, Jack Grant! No man!

"I enjoy high-fidelity combat flight-simulations." Reaching into a small cabinet next to the desk, he pulled out a pair of control sticks and set them on top of the desk. One was the throttle and one was a very accurate reproduction of a joystick. Then he set their foot pedals on the floor in front of the chair.

An hour later, she sat on his lap in one of his old white dress-shirts, flying the Mig-29 in a game called Flanker 2.0, behind an aerial tanker. She had a fuel probe out and was just seating it in the fueling boom attached to the wing of the Russian aerial tanker.

Jack was hard under her. He called it a problem with the 'erection seat'. His hands were above her pelvis acting as a 'seat belt'--'Just in case!' there was an emergency.

This is kind of like the movie 'Pearl Harbor' with Ben Affleck, where he takes the nurse up for a flight at sunset; but, she had all her clothes on!

Jack was so engrossed in watching her try to refuel the fighter on the screen that it caught him unprepared, when she asked offhandedly, "So, Jack, have you ever done this with anyone else? Showing them how to fly, sitting on your lap?"

Still dreaming of Nikki, Jack hesitated just a bit too long; and, Jess immediately picked up on it.

She frowned. "How do you pause this game?" Once he'd shown her, she punched the button and turned around on his lap, facing him, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her forehead to touch his. Almost nose-to-nose, she looked into his eyes.

"Who'd you show, Jack?"

"Jessica, it doesn't really matter ... "

"Look, it'll be okay," she assured him. "Whoever it is, it'll be okay. I know you haven't dated since Nikki's mom left, right?" Who the hell else has sat here on your lap? I thought you hadn't dated since your divorce.

He nodded his head.

"Am I the first person you've dated since then?"

A nod, but he swallowed hard.

Jessica leaned back so she could see his eyes better. "Who?" She brought her fingers to his temple and jawline. "Don't make me do the Vulcan mind-meld thing on you!" My mind to your mind; your mind to my mind. My thoughts to your thoughts; your thoughts to my thoughts. Show me your soul; share your 'katra' with me!

Oh please, dear sweet merciful God, just let me die right this minute! For the first time in his life, Jack Grant didn't really want to 'boldly go where no man had gone before'. Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his forehead; but, he finally summoned the nerve to speak.

"Nicole," he whispered.

"Nicole," she sighed. God damn it, Jack Grant! Of all the women in all the world, you have to name your fucking daughter. That sin is as old as mankind, primal, and powerful. It's one of the sin-of-sins.

And, I just took her to Portland and made her tall. How could I be so stupid, not to see this! Nikki, you total fucking bitch, you knew I was helping you attract your Dad, didn't you? Fuck, shit, piss, damn, and hell!

"You mean like Nikki, your daughter? A real old-fashioned father-daughter 'Teach me how to fly, Daddy' Kodak moment? Or was it more, Jack?"

The blood in his veins turned to ice, and he shivered. "It was more."

"More ... like you and me, touching? Or, more than touching?"

Jack almost whispered the words, "Touching ... and more." The words hung in the air. In truth, they more than hung there; they resonated, like some unholy church bell in the darkest of nights.

"Jack, look at me." She looked for a way to ask her question, and then said simply, "Are you a child molester?"

"Nicole's an adult. She's eighteen."

"Aaaannntttt!" Thank you for playing!" Loud and irritating, the sound of her voice exploded like the buzzer on a TV game show. "Wrong fucking answer, Jack Grant! A simple 'No' would have been more reassuring." Shit, shit, shit!

"Okay, first question then. When did it start? This touching, how long ago? How old was Nikki?"

He swallowed. "It just happened ...over the last few weeks, since they graduated from the Academy."

"Are you telling me the truth?" Look me in the eyes, Jack Grant. I'll know if you're lying.

"Yes, I swear it." His eyes moved upward, finding hers as he answered. His eyes never wavered.

"So, she's eighteen; and, you never did anything like this with her when she was a child, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Well, congratulations, Jack Grant, you're right! You're not a child abuser." I had such high hopes for us. Shit! I'm in a relationship with a man, who's 'involved' with his eighteen-year-old daughter.

"So, the next logical question is, 'Why?' What changed, that you suddenly decided to do this to Nicole? Did she initiate it?"

"No." He could feel the heat of her gaze and wouldn't look her in the face. "I did. I don't know why. I swear to God, I didn't even have fantasies about her till two weeks ago. My law firm got involved in a case, representing a dad who had sex with his daughter. There's an evidence video. It's both disturbing and thought-provoking. I've had trouble, keeping the images out of my mind. Trouble keeping reality from intruding into fantasy. Trouble keeping fantasy and reality separate, I guess."

"So, you and Nicole. Is it incest? Have you done incest?" Just how many moral boundaries have you crossed, Jack Grant?

Jack wanted to curl up in a little ball and die right there—on the spot. "I don't know." I've sure as hell done everything, but intercourse. 'Penetration, no matter how slight!' Maybe, I've already done incest; I certainly would have, if not for MacKenzie.

"Jack Grant, you're a well-known Family Practice Attorney. If you can't tell me what incest is, who can? And, don't you dare tell me 'a judge and jury'! The fucking truth isn't that hard to recognize."

"I honestly don't know how to explain what's happened," he pleaded.

"Well then, Jack Grant, Wordsmith and Attorney at Law--show me! Jack, show me what you did with her. What you did to her." How the hell can words fail a lawyer?

Jack thought, I could just walk away. I just met you. I really enjoy your company, but I don't have to tell you shit. I could just walk. You doesn't really know anything, yet. Just walk, Jack Grant! I'm your attorney and that's my advice.

How does the saying, sometimes attributed to Abraham Lincoln, go? Oh, yeah ... 'The man who has himself for an attorney, has a fool for a client!'

"Okay, Jess. Where do you want to start?" If I walk away, I may never get another chance to straighten all of this out. And you—Just Jess? Hell, you may be my only chance!

"How about right here, right now?" She gestured at the computer. "Show me ... learning to refuel!"

"Hang on." He stood and slipped out of his pants, so he was only wearing boxers. He cleared his throat, pointing at the shirt she was wearing. "Now ... unbutton my shirt all the way."

Returning to his lap, she hit 'Resume'. He opened her legs with his and began to move under her.

"Where were your hands, exactly?"

"Seat belt," he answered.

"Was she wearing panties?" Please, for fuck's sake, say 'Yes'.

Jack nodded, Yes. "I'll be right back." Jack returned, holding a clean pair of white-cotton panties.

Jessica paused for a brief moment, before sighing and slipping them on. "Show me!"

His hands slipped under her shirttails, and under the waistband of the panties, coming to rest with his fingers just touching the cleft of her sex and teasing the short hairs of her landing strip. He was hard under her.

Those hands are definitely too low to be in a daughter's panties, Jack Grant. Too low—obscenely low!

He told her about the conversation about the fueling boom and Nikki's screen name. Then, he told her about taking on fuel and how hot the cockpit got.

"What happened when she hooked it up?"

"Nothing! I swear to God; she couldn't hook up, so we crashed." Suddenly, he dumped her unceremoniously to the floor at his feet. She just sprawled there, looking up at Jack; he was almost erect. It was easy to see that from where she lay. Nikki saw that?

"Now show me what you would've done; what you were going to do, if she hooked the fighter up for refueling. I need to know."

"Take off the panties."

She did. Fun fantasy. Too much fun to do with a daughter, Daddy. I should just walk away from this relationship. Walk, girlfriend, walk now! Walk, my ass! Run as fast as you can!

"Do I get a call sign, Jack?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"Avenging Angel!" That sounds about right.

She climbed back on, restarting the simulation. As she maneuvered the plane, she felt him thickening under her. She could hear the air turbulence, off the trailing wing and boom followed by a solid clunk through the base speaker and she felt the chair jolt, violently. Jack lurched up, holding her down by her hips onto his fully erect cock.

Slowly, he began pumping his hips up-and-down under her, in-and-out in little short strokes. "What are you doing?" Jessica asked, surprised at the violence shaking the 'erection' seat.

"Priming the pump; just think of it as turbulence from the air tanker." She's wet. Maybe I can make her understand how all this got carried away.

"What happens if we overfill it?"

He grunted, "Fuel spill." And kept pumping.

She pushed the joystick forward, breaking the connection with the tanker. As Jack's 'fueling probe' broke free, lifting up into the air and leaking, he gasped. His thoughts fought their way to surface in a sea of lust. I was so close! To what?

"Jack!" Were you this close, when Nikki failed to connect? Did she sit at your feet, watching it throb near climax? The thought made her nipples hard. She shivered, It's erotic, but so wrong.

She reached out and touched his knee; Jack opened his eyes.

"Jessica?"

"Yeah ...remember me?"

'I was? I mean, for a moment there, I was," he reached for the connection. I was ... Nikki was on my lap. We were almost ....

"You were fucking Nikki, as she flew the plane. Would you really have 'filled her up'?

His cock lurched and lifted; he turned his head, so she couldn't see his shame and need. I really would have, even though I knew it was wrong. I would have. Christ, I still would.

Jessica put her hand on his knee again, squeezing. "But you didn't, did you?" But you would have, wouldn't you?

Standing with her hands on her hips, again she asked, "What else?"

"Jessica, you'll never forgive me. I don't think I can explain what happened the other times."

Other times? Oh God, how many times? Fuck, is there no end to this? "Show me, Jack. I need to understand exactly what happened between you and her." If you want to touch me ever again, show me!

"We need to go to Nikki's bedroom."

She followed him to the darkened room. She reached for the switch. He stopped her hand. Her eyebrow went up. How far has all of this gone?

"No, it was dark."

He took her and made her lay down on the bed, just like his first night with Nikki. And, when she had, he whispered into her ear in the near darkness. "There was a storm. I was on my way to the bathroom. There was thunder and lightening; and Nikki was lying here just like this."

"Then what?" There was curiosity, tempered with fear, and just a little sexual excitement in her voice.

"Close your eyes and sleep. Don't wake up, no matter what, okay?"

"Okay." She heard him leave the room, walking down the hall. She closed her eyes and waited. He returned to the doorway, but seemed to hesitate. What's he waiting for?

Slowly, she lost track of where he was in the room. She couldn't hear him, couldn't feel him or hear his breathing.

Her eyes popped open, when she felt his cock-head fall gently onto her palm. He didn't take it back; but, she felt it slide away and heard the sound. She knew that sound, he was masturbating in the dark by her bed.

"Did you cum in her hand?"

"Yeah," he got out. I sure as fuck did!

"What did you do after you came all over your daughter's sleeping hand, Jack?"

Unexpectedly, Jessica looked up at him. "Wait! There's something I don't understand. In its own way, this is innocent; this feels like an accident. Something's out of sync. So, how did the images from the video cause you to be here in her room? You said you were on the way to the bathroom during the storm."

He swallowed hard. "This was the night, before I saw the evidence video." Jesus, it was the night before! It was half an admission that he'd been caught in a small, but significant lie. It was half a realization of just how bad he'd wanted to find some other cause for his behavior.

"Jack," her voice softened, "You can't use the evidence video as an excuse, if all of this started before you watched it. I think in legal-talk they call it 'cause and effect'. Jack, your little head did not think for you, the devil didn't make you do it; and, I'm terribly sorry, but the evidence video didn't make you do it, either."

"Look at me, Jack. I almost have a Masters Degree in Film Criticism. I don't know of any evidence-- anywhere--that links seeing a movie or video to acting on it. Violent films don't cause violence. Porn doesn't cause rape. And video games of being a pilot don't make you one for real."

"This isn't fantasy intruding on reality. This is your life. Own it, Jack! They're your decisions. Own them!" God damn it! "Seeing a video of another dad with his daughter, doesn't give you an excuse to do the same. You are what you do, Jack Grant. Now, show me what you really did."

She heard his whisper, "I love you. And, I'm sorry."