Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 14

She turned to me. "Shannon," she said. "It's true that I'm not your birth mother. But I was there from the moment you were born, and when I took you in my arms that day I have been every bit your mother."

She reached down and grabbed a couple of tissues and handed them to me. I looked at them, confused, and then took them and wiped my face. The tears had been coming down and I hadn't even noticed.

I was adopted. There it was. It explained so much. It explained why I looked nothing like my mother, had none of her assets, grace, or poise. It explained why I was a klutz, and had none of her confidence, too.

A thought occurred to me. "So that's why you two never married," I said as the pieces fell into place. "You two never dated in the first place."

"That's right," my mother said. She glanced at my father, who had calmed himself.

"So why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "Why the big secret?"

My father took in a deep breath. "It's complicated," he said. "Zoey and Christine didn't get along."

My mother grunted in acknowledgment. From the little I'd seen of Simone's mother in the Dean's office, I didn't find it hard to believe.

"As the pregnancies went on, the conflict between them got worse," my father said. "Zoey had more and more health problems, and Christine became more and more demanding. Because of her health issues, I had to spend almost all of my time with Zoey and your mother, and Christine got jealous.

"She - Christine - thought that I would marry her," my father continued. "That probably would have been the right thing to do, under the circumstances, if Zoey hadn't gotten pregnant as well. Well, it may have been the right thing to do, but it would have wound up a complete disaster. I didn't particularly like Christine very much, either."

"And... Zoey?" I asked.

"I cared for Zoey very much," my father said. "The more time I spent with her, the more I grew to love her."

I glanced at my mother. She was watching my father intently, listening to every word with sharp focus.

Things were slowly falling into place. "So," I said, trying to work out the puzzle aloud, "that's why you and Tracy broke up."

My mother started at that. She sat bolt upright and looked at my father with anger and hatred. "Tracy?" she demanded. "Tracy the Psychopath is back?"

Oh boy. I had really opened up a can of worms. I had simply assumed that I was the only one who didn't know what was going on. I thought my mother knew that my father had started seeing Tracy again, and so I was completely taken aback by her outburst. Judging by her reaction, though, I could see why he would want to keep it from her.

She could see by the look on his face that it was true. "And you introduced my daughter to that insane bitch?" Her eyes were livid, a fire that seemed to ignite at a thousand degrees.

I recoiled from her vitriol. Apparently, the revelations were coming fast and furious for all of us.

"Michelle," my father said, his voice sounding somewhere between a warning and a pleading for mercy.

My mother whirled on me. "Listen to me," she said, her eyes still ablaze. "That woman is dangerous. She will stop at nothing and destroy your life just because she feels like it."

"Michelle, please!" my father begged.

She turned back to him. "You know it's true," she said. "Look, I can't stop you if you want to dip your dick in crazy, but you leave my daughter out of it."

Her intent was obvious and clear. She did not want Tracy anywhere near me. The fact that she used such crass language was new to me, though, and seemed to underscore just how serious a threat she believed that Tracy posed.

"I introduced them for the first time this past weekend," my father said. "They got along great."

I marveled at the simplicity of that statement, and yet how much it concealed. It had only been two days. Two fucking days, and ever since I met Tracy my entire world had been turned into a knot.

My mother turned to me. "Before you were born-" she began.

My father tried to cut her off. "Michelle, she doesn't need to know-"

"Before you were born," my mother repeated, interrupting my father. "Tracy did everything in her power to mess things up. Part of the reason why you were never told is because she made things so bad between your father and Zoey and Christine, and then you and Simone after you were born, that it was just best if your father step back and treat you girls equally."

"Equally?" I asked, confused.

"Christine made it difficult," my father said after a moment, and gave in to continuing the story. "Before Simone was born, she started drinking, even though she was pregnant. She blamed me for ruining her life, and all she wanted was for me to pay child support. The money went into alcohol, mostly, and Simone found herself at her grandparents' house for long periods of time.

"I didn't want to subject you to that," he said, his own eyes starting to turn red. He turned to Michelle. "Nor you. You gave up everything, your acting career, your boyfriend, to take care of Zoey's child."

His lip started quivering. "I don't blame you for hating me, Michelle," he said after a moment. "I'm sorry that I ruined that for you."

I saw a break in my mother's anger. She looked at me, and then back at my father. "You didn't ruin my life," she said softly. "You gave me my Shanny."

All of us knew that while that was true, she had held her shift in fortunes against him for all these years. That was something that was going to probably have to take a few years of therapy to get past.

Hell, I think we needed a few decades of therapy. Especially me.

"Anyway," my father said, clearing his throat and trying to remain stoic. "I was trying to be as fair as I could. I had to juggle you and Simone, but I didn't want to add to your mother's burden and Christine was a nightmare."

I thought of Simone growing up in that household, with a mother that was an alcoholic and a father that couldn't be there. "The best thing to do was keep you two as separate as possible," he said.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked.

My mother and father looked at each other. "Originally, we were," my mother said. "After a while, though, it didn't look like it would really be necessary. You and your dad had your own routine, and things were working well by not bringing them into our lives."

I wasn't sure how to take that bit of candor. On the one hand, I understood it. On the other, though, it felt crude and unfair. "Don't you think I deserve to know that I had a sister?" I asked, my voice sounding a little harsh.

"Yes," my father said. "And now it's clear that we erred on the wrong side."

My mother looked at my father. "We made a mistake in not telling her," he translated. My mother nodded, now understanding.

"How come Simone knew, and I didn't?" I asked, my voice demanding.

My father looked back at me. "Until an hour ago," he said, "I had no idea she knew."

I suppressed a shudder. If he hadn't told Simone, that meant that Tracy had. If Tracy had told Simone, when did she tell her? Could that be the reason why Simone suddenly started tormenting me?

"Did Simone meet Tracy?" my mother asked, as if she read my mind.

My father nodded. "Simone visited so that we could celebrate her birthday about a month or so ago," he said. "And I introduced them."

My mother cocked her head in shock. "And you didn't think that Tracy would tell Simone?" She sounded incredulous.

"Tracy had promised not to..." his voice trailed off. It seemed that he was learning his own surprises. "Oh god," he mumbled.

The weight of these revelations were making my head spin. My mother obvious hated Tracy, and it began to dawn on me that Tracy had been pulling more than just my strings.

So many secrets and lies. It was hard to tell which end was up. I needed to fight the urge to run to my room and hide. I felt completely unprepared to handle this.

Which is exactly what your mother said to you this morning, Team Morality reminded me.

Promise me that no matter what - no matter what - you will know that everything I've done, I've done because I love you so very much. I was starting to understand what he meant by that.

He loves you very much. Much more, in fact, than the rest of us combined, Tracy had said. The rest of us. The rest of us.

Is that why Simone hated me so much? Because I had the love of my father, and she didn't? That he saw her as an obligation, rather than loved her as a daughter?

She has everything, and thinks she's so much better than the rest of us. Simone's words from the bathroom conversation echoed in my head. The rest of us. She didn't mean other kids in school, she meant it in the same way that Tracy had!

Wait. Had Tracy been coaching Simone? Had she put her up to everything?

I fought the chaos in my head to recall how Simone had looked at my father when he stood in the doorway at the Dean's office. She had lit up, walls had come down - even if only for a brief moment. Could she have been attacking me out of jealousy? Did I have what she wanted all along, and just been taking it for granted?

It all was spinning out of control. She had given me the video, knowing that it was her own father's porno. She must have watched it, too, must have seen her own mother getting fucked in the ass. What would that have been like for her?

Then there was the dildo. Where did she get that from?

Tracy, you idiot!

Fuck me, Tracy really was a psychopath. Why would Tracy have given it to Simone? Because she knew Simone had Daddy issues, that's why. Simone had tried the dildo and had failed to take it far enough inside her. She must have been frustrated and angry, unable to get the time that she wanted with my father - her father - and still unable to even take comfort in being able to at least have the dildo for companionship.

But Tracy had been surprised to see it. That meant that Simone had taken her own initiative in 'gifting' it to me. Perhaps I was reading too much into this, but it all seemed to make sense. Simone truly hated me, Tracy had encouraged it, and the clues were starting to come together.

Almost at the same time, my father's and mother's phones began to ring. My father winced as he saw the caller ID, and he picked up the phone and walked into the other room.

My mother answered her phone at the same time. "Hello?" she asked. "Oh yes, Dean Hopkins. She's feeling much better now."

She paused as she listened to Dean Hopkins speak for a minute. "I understand. What does this mean for her graduation?"

My heart leapt into my throat as I watched her reaction. She closed her eyes, then opened them slowly. "I see. I will let her know. Thank you."

She hung up the phone, and looked at me. "That was Mr. Hopkins," she said. I fought down the urge to tell her that I knew that. "He said that the school is going to suspend you for two weeks."

I swallowed. "And graduation?" I asked, fearing what she was about to say next.

"He said that your grades are good enough so that if you can maintain the work that is required during the suspension you shouldn't have any problems graduating," she said. I let out the breath that I had been holding. Being suspended for two weeks was bad enough, but having to take summer school and not graduate on time meant that my college timeline would be a threatened.

My father came back into the room. He looked particularly exhausted. "I have to go to Christine's," he told my mother.

I looked at my father. "Will you be coming back?" I asked. I felt as if there were still so much more to talk about. Now that the major secrets were out, what else hadn't they told me? And what could they tell me about Zoey? What was she like?

"I don't know," he confessed. "I have to see what happens with Simone and her mother. Something tells me that it's not going to go nearly as well as this conversation did."

This conversation went well? I felt slighted. I felt as if I was the one owed explanations. I wanted him to tell the story over and over, to try to see if he changed it or if there were more secrets that needed to come out. I needed... more.

At the same time, I wanted to confront Tracy. She seemed to be the key to all of this. Just like I saw in the video -

The video. I never saw the whole video.

My mother's phone buzzed. She looked at it, and sighed. "I have to go to work, too."

She looked at me, and said, "I can call in and say that I can't go," she said, "if you need me to stay."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "I think I need to be alone for a while."

My mother nodded, accepting my decision. In truth, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be alone or not. I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep them there, just in case I wanted to scream at them later. I felt stunned and numb, and had no doubt that I was going to be dealing with some major roller coaster emotions pretty soon.

One thing I did know, however, was that I couldn't watch the video or call Tracy with her in the house. For that, I really did need to be alone.

"Okay," my mother said, and looked to my father. He didn't seem to have much enthusiasm for leaving either. "We'll talk more tonight when I get home from work."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, suddenly wanting both of them to leave in a hurry.

Soon enough, they were out the door and I was back in my room. I sat on my bed with the remote, but found it difficult to hit the play button after all. All of these surprises rocked me to the core, and I wasn't sure which emergency to handle first.

I tried to reconcile the fact that my mother wasn't actually my mother, but really my aunt. My father's apology to her had told me so much, and I wracked my brains to try to remember what else he had said about her.

In any case, it was making so much more sense. My bio-mom, Zoey. Who was she? I knew she was my mother's sister. I knew that she got pregnant around the same time as Christine. I knew that Simone was... my sister.

Simone. That bitch. The girl who referred to me as The Cunt. How could she have turned out to be my sister? It seemed like a great, cosmic joke. Yet at the same time, all my questions of why she had been bullying me seemed answered.

Her Daddy issues seemed to make mine look like mere passing fantasies. She had a full-blown Elektra complex.

I didn't want to feel anything for Simone. She had tried - and succeeded, most likely - to destroy my reputation. When I went back to school, who knew what names I would be called. "Condom girl?" "Slut?" "Bathroom Boinker?" She had actively campaigned to ruin my life, make me depressed, and maybe even cause me to commit suicide.

That thought chilled me. Would she have done that to get me out of the picture? To have my father all to herself?

I shuddered at the thought, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This wasn't about her disliking me, or even hating me. Simone wanted to destroy me. And she would stop at nothing, and go through anyone, to do it.

Oh god, what about Andrew? I had kissed him before going into Mr. Rawlins' classroom. People had seen that, and so they would know that he was the owner of the condom. I reached for my phone, but my heart sank when I saw that there was already a text waiting for me from him.

We need to talk, he said.

Oh, no. I knew what that meant. What could I possibly tell him? That my family was more fucked up than his was? A shudder crossed my body as I realized that Andrew would probably get called to the Dean's office. It never occurred to me that he could get in trouble as well. And then he'd have to face his parents.

Girl, you have truly screwed the pooch, Team Morality tutted.

I looked at my phone. Come to my house after school, I texted. I'm not there any more.

I know, he responded. Send me your address.

I did. It was a long time before he texted me back. See you then.

I only had a couple of hours to go before he arrived, and wanted to put that time to good use. There was no time to cry or wallow in my own misery. I needed answers, and there were two leads that I had to explore.

I clicked on the play button and watched the video spin up, the TV flickering to life, and put it on mute. At the same time, I dialed Tracy's number.

"Hi Shannon," Tracy said.

"I suppose you heard," I said, not bothering with any pleasantries.

"I did."

There was a pause, and I suddenly didn't know what else to say. "Why did you tell Simone that you and I had sex?" I asked. Might as well try the direct approach.

There was a second before she answered, "Is that really the question you want to ask, Shannon?"

"It's one of many," I said, defensively.

The video on the screen showed a short-haired brunette attempting to stuff my father's cock down her mouth. Like the others thus far, she simply couldn't do it.

"Well, then, if that's the best you've got," Tracy said, derisively. "Because I wanted to make her jealous."

"Jealous? Why?" I asked, incredulous.

Tracy sighed. "Really, Shannon, I thought you were smarter than this."

So did I, but I needed to hear it direct. "I guess I'm not," I said, petulantly.

"I guess not too," she said. "Shannon, Simone thinks you have taken her father from her. For her entire life, she had thought that your father avoided her because of her mother. Quite frankly, that's partially true. Christine is a full-on bitch-and-a-half.

"It just so happened that I 'accidentally' let it slip that I had met you on Saturday," she said as calmly as if she were ordering a pizza.

"Don't you worry, though," she continued. "I talked you up quite a bit. Even though you and I both know you still need some practice, I told her that you were absolutely amazing and the best woman I'd ever tasted."

Holy shit. She'd had sex with Simone, too! She'd deliberately made Simone jealous. It's no wonder that Simone was so pissed off and self-righteous in the bathroom this morning. Tracy had basically told her that she was being replaced by me. First she wasn't 'good enough' for my father, and now she wasn't 'good enough' for Tracy.

The girl on the screen was getting a gentle fucking from my father, his cock unable to fully penetrate her. I clicked on the fast forward button and watched as he plowed into her double-time.

"So, you told her that you and I had sex, you deliberately made her jealous, and so she wanted to get revenge," I restated everything.

"Boy, are you quick on the draw," Tracy said sarcastically.

"How long have you been having sex with her?" I asked.

"Nosy little bitch, aren't you?" Tracy countered. "Just like you, Shannon. I fucked her on the night I met her. It was her birthday, after all."

"And you gave her the video?" I asked.

"Oh, no," Tracy said. "I merely told her that her mother had a copy. Simone found it all on her own."

"And the dildo?"

"Well, yes, I did give her the dildo when she started getting curious about what it would feel like to have a dick that big," Tracy said. "Apparently she didn't have nearly as much success as you did."

I was stunned. Tracy was completely okay with telling me everything. It was almost as if I got her monologuing like some evil villain in a movie. But I couldn't stop myself.

"Wait a minute," I said, thinking of something. "My father was upset because someone lost something. That wasn't about work, was it?"

Tracy paused for a moment as she debated whether or not to tell me. "Yes," she said, finally. "Christine called your father and told her that she had discovered the video missing. He took you home early so that he could go over to her house and help her look for it. Gotta tell you, Simone loved knowing that she got to take her Daddy away from you."