NOTE:This chapter is written in the first person; Elinais speaking. Contains disturbing content; discretion advised.

My father knew I meant business when I told him to stop drinking and pull himself together. I wasn't afraid of him; if anything, he was afraid of me. After all, I could have burnt down the entire apartment and left him with burns so bad he'd be limbless by the time the doctors got to him. I could've just packed my bags and snuck on the next plane up to New York to live with Adam and his girlfriend Audrey, leaving him behind to wallow in his own mess. I refused to do it anymore, and I wasn't going to start being nicey-nicey over his problem. It needed to stop, so I made him stop.

I still wasn't sorry for screaming at him like a lunatic. Even my throat hurt after, and if something on me hurts from doing something I like, then that's when it counts to me. It's sort of like a bodybuilder straining his muscles to get bigger. I was straining my voice to get what I want—for him to stop drinking and being an asshole. How the night ended was just weird, but I…

Yes, that night we had sex. It was a very weird "first time", because he was my father. Even when he told me he loved me like that, I was shocked beyond my wildest dreams. I could never imagine something like that happening to me, and I didn't quite know why. At first, I thought he was drunk, but then I realized that even though his mouth still tasted like whiskey and he looked like a million miles of bad road, he wasn't drunk. My powers worked. He had been sober when he took me, therefore fully aware that I was his daughter. His own daughter. Before she died, my own mother had even told me, and I quote: "Håll rent för så länge du kan. Vårda den." In Swedish, that means to 'stay pure for as long as you can'. Cherish it. Yet my father was the one who truly cherished it. I had forgotten all about it, and quite frankly, I don't think I had much to lose.

The sad part was…I loved every minute of it.

My father and I made love once a week, or sometimes more depending on my mood. He always seemed up for action, strangely, even though he also spent time looking for a job and trying to fulfill his promises. I thought he was tired, but apparently not if he had a boner sticking out in his pants. The fact that we were blood-related didn't faze me when we were in the middle of the act—he got me aroused every time, and to imagine my mother having been pleasured in the same way was strange yet I was glad she was in good hands when she was alive; no pun intended. Within two weeks, I had my first taste of a man, and things kept escalating to get raunchier by the week—he would let me on top, he would take me from behind…I loved when I was being pounded from behind. I also liked when he used his tongue on me. I would suck him after, getting a taste of him; I would let him finger my other hole while fingering my liquid heat.

Oh, damn! Listen to me! Ugh, this is disgusting how I could enjoy such a forbidden thing! Yet, strangely enough, I didn't mind that my father took my virginity and continued to express his love for me. We weren't hurting anybody, and it was my biggest secret. I was good at keeping secrets—yet the secret of my powers was even more special. In a weird way, having sex with my father was like a way for us both to grieve; to celebrate the life of my mother. It was mostly meaningful for him, though; that I could sense clearly on him. I also felt really bad for him; poor thing. I bet mamma is rolling around in her coffin right now. Just think of what she would do had she been alive and knew my father, her husband, was involved with me. All the insults in her mother tongue she'd hurl at me before beating me senseless and possibly using her powers in a negative way on me.

Hora.

Din kuksugar hora.

Träskluder.

Pappas smutsiga lilla hora.

That last one would scar me for life. Even just thinking of her saying that to me made me cringe. The sad part is…it was true. I was daddy's little whore.

Ugh, that's all for that. The good news is that by May, Nick and I fully reconnected with each other, and I began to hang out with a small group of friends. I was never going to forget Lily and how much she meant to me as a friend, but this new group of friends, supposedly the coolest girls at my high school, just befriended me out of nowhere. I remember I was walking home from school, and out of the corner of my eye, I see them approach me—big hair, heavy makeup to hide their beautiful faces, heels high to the sky, dressed like I did. I hadn't even left school property yet. It was a big school, much bigger than Barnwell.

"Hey!" I heard a voice calling out to me, so I stopped and turned around to see who it was—three girls, who looked, walked, dressed, but not talked like me. The one in the middle, who had curly, puffy black hair that was short and held back with a metal barrette, a slightly olive skin tone and great dark eyes, approached me first as her friends watched. I stayed silent, hugging my books to my chest for dear life.

"I have to say, Ilove your outfit," she squealed with a smile. Her teeth were perfect.

"Oh," I muttered. "Thank you." I felt very shy—this was not like me, at least not in a long time.

"Are you new here?" the one on the left, a girl with her brown hair tied up in a high ponytail with heavy, neon makeup said as if she were in a daze. She was chomping on a thick wad of bubblegum—I secretly hoped for her to choke on it. It annoyed me to death.

"I've been here," I replied, looking at her.

"For how long?" the third one said; she had dirty blonde hair that was too teased for her own good and she wore bright red lipstick with her brows colored in black. She sounded like a bitch.

"Since...the middle of March," I said, looking at them all.

"The boys are always talking about you," the girl with dark blonde hair said. "You're in my drama class. I'm surprised you ain't seen me."

"I-I'm sorry," I said. "I don't really know many people here."

"You anti-social?" the girl with short, puffy black hair said, staring me down with her big brown eyes.

"No." These girls were making me nervous as all hell.

"What's your name?" the girl with bubblegum asked.

"Elina," I said. "I don't know yours, either."

"I'm Stephanie," the girl with black hair said. "Steph for short."

"Ashley," the girl with dark blonde hair said, her hazel eyes darting through me like knives.

"Yeah, I'm Lisa," the girl with bubblegum replied, blowing a bubble larger than life before popping it. "Nice to meet you."

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get home," I said.

I felt somewhat nervous around them. They didn't seem to be giving off a bad vibe, but I was shy, for sure. Yet, I didn't have to be home—my father found a job at the local carnival. He, surprisingly, wasn't in a freak show. He was the guy who sold tickets to games and stuff. He only made minimum wage, which really sucked. I was happy he couldn't afford liquor anymore, though.

"You can make something up," Steph told me with a slight grin. "Ashley's ditching dance class."

I reasoned with them and got out of hanging out—I hated to be a sourpuss but I didn't know how my father would react to know I had been out and about when I got home. He worked until six in the evening; we got out at two-thirty. Remembering how it was in Barnwell, I would stay out with Lily and our group of acquaintances until half past eleven at night. Damn, I missed her. When we were having dinner that night, I told my father about the girls I met.

"I met some people on the way home," I said; I had cooked a meal consisting of pork chops, green beans and salad. He looked at me, waiting to swallow before answering.

"Yeah?" he said. "Are they nice?" Come to think of it, they were.

"Yes," I said. "I think we'll be hanging out this weekend. Maybe to the mall or the arcade."

"Sounds fun," he said. He seemed catatonic again; I thought I told him to stop drinking or I'd leave for New York! Oh, geez, I guess I just worried too much. After all, he worked from eleven to six everyday. I took a sigh and continued to eat, yet it wasn't totally silent with the sound of chewing and swallowing.

Steph, Ashley, and Lisa fully welcomed me into their group that weekend; Steph had taken her mother's credit card so we could shop at the mall. It was really fun, considering I needed new clothes and even some accessories. They even took me to the salon; I had my hair dyed platinum again. The three wanted to see me with my natural hair color, so they got it. Come to think of it, I missed it as well. I almost cried when they were done—my mother died when I last saw that natural, snow-colored hair. I also got my brows plucked, even though they weren't particularly thick to begin with, and the girls taught me how to fill them in with makeup to create an arch. I looked different. More adult, I would say. I remember the look on my father's face when he saw me with my natural hair color back—it was of shock, but in a good way.

"Elina!" he exclaimed, his jaw having dropped. "Your hair!"

"Yes, I dyed it back," I replied. "Not a big deal, I suppose!"

"It looks beautiful," he said with a smile, approaching me and taking me in his arms. It was the same style as before, though. I didn't see it as much of a change. He snake his arms around my waist and held me tightly.

"Thank you," I replied, closing my eyes as I heard his heart beating against his rib cage.

When I went to school that Monday, people looked at me in shock. I was walking alongside my new friends as I passed by Nick in the hallway, whose friend tapped him on the shoulder so he could look at me. His clear blue eyes widened and his jaw dropped ever so slightly as I looked over at him and winked—I felt guilty for such a slight flirtation, but in a way I didn't care. What my father didn't know wasn't going to hurt him, right?

I had to lie to my father in order to go to Nick's house late that May; I had fibbed and said I'd be with Steph, Ashley and Lisa just so he could let me go out. He still had a hold on me, especially since he and I were sexually involved and he felt genuine love toward me. I did, too, in a way, but he was still my father and nothing could have swayed my platonic feelings toward him. Plus, I hadn't seen Sigrid, my mother's friend, in so long, and I had yet to meet his little sister, Anna. Once I walked in the door, a beautiful, mature-looking woman smiled at me and started to speak Swedish.

"Elina! Is that really you?" she asked me, her facial expression loaded with excitement. "You've grown so much!"

"It's lovely to see you again, Sigrid," I said with a slight stutter in my Swedish. I was fluent, but since my mother died, I had no reason to speak my second tongue. Now, I did.

"Come here!" She extended her arms out and hugged me close to her; I returned the hug, and once she let go, her crystal clear blue eyes stared at me. Sigrid was close to fifty, maybe more, but she was still beautiful. She had a defined face with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, and her skin showed some signs of aging but she looked ten years younger. Her hair, a rich brown color, had been dyed to cover grays, and she smiled warmly at me.

"You have the face of an angel," she told me with a smile, kissing my cheek. "How old are you now? It's been two years, at least."

"I'm fifteen," I said to her. She smiled grandly, a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, I'm glad you could come for dinner," she said, holding my hands in her cold ones. "Please take a seat in the dining room. It's almost ready."

In the dining room sat a little girl and she was really adorable. Her eyes, large and azure, stared up at me as I entered the room with Nick next to me. We took a seat next to each other across from the little girl, who I figured out to be his little sister. I smiled at her, feeling the fires in my eyes tone down as to not scare her. Her hair was sunny blonde, bright and fair, and she was wearing a short sleeved blouse and plain blue shorts that went to just above her knee.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi," she replied—she spoke English, which I didn't mind.

"Are you Anna?"

"Yeah," she said. "I can't wait to see what's for dinner."

"Roast beef and vegetables," Nick said, cutting in as he looked over at his sister.

He directed his eyes to me, and I couldn't help but blush at the way he looked at me. His eyes, their color, his gaze…they were all enough to make me melt. Unlike my father with his strange stare when he looked at me, Nick had life in his eyes. It was amazing, and our eyes met for a brief moment before we were served. The food was well prepared and filling. All the conversations at the table were in Swedish, and even hearing Nick speak the language made my heart flutter and dance around like a giddy schoolgirl. When Sigrid asked how school was for each of us, we responded, and when I was about to give my answer, I was sipping cranberry juice from the glass given to me.

"It's going alright," I replied.

"What is your favorite class?" she asked me, looking at me curiously.

"Oh, uh…math," I said. "I've always been good at it."

"She's smart, mamma," Nick said. I smiled ever so slightly at him, and I could feel the fire in my own eyes radiating warmly at him.

"So you're with your father?" Sigrid asked, sounding a little sad.

"Uh, yes," I answered.

"I heard about your mother," she crooned. "I'm so sorry for your loss, dear." I took a sigh and looked over at her, raising my eyebrows slightly.

"I'm over it now. It's been two years," I said. I was so annoyed with people saying how sorry they were for me. Damn it, I was tired of my mother's death being the excuse for everything people did around me, especially when dad used it as an excuse to tell me he loved me and have sex with me. Maybe he really did love me like that, but you know… Ugh, mamma? Why did you have to die when you did? We needed you!

I was relieved when dinner was over, and I was shocked to know that Sigrid didn't even mention the funeral. I could tell she was sad, though, especially when she mentioned her divorce from her husband after he left her for another woman. At about eight o'clock, I got ready to go home, and Nick offered to lead me to the door. He ended up leading me down the steps of their home to the front, and he looked back to see Anna peeking through the curtain only to back away and let the translucent white curtain fall freely. Nick looked down at me and smiled, the night air warm and comforting around us.

"Thanks for coming, Elina," he said. There was a flirtatious warmth in his voice as he looked down at me.

"I had a good time, really," I said, glancing away toward the street, illuminated by white street lights.

"I'm glad," he said. "See you around school?"

"Yes," I said, as I got ready to turn and leave. "Well, have a good night."

"Wait."

I felt him reach for my hand, and in an instant he spun me around as if in a dance, looking down into my eyes with those clear blue eyes before slowly leaning down to kiss me. It took me by surprise, but I mindlessly returned it with full enthusiasm as he held my face in his hands, caressing my cheeks softly with his thumbs. I couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline through my body, my heart racing a million miles an hour as his lips pressed against mine. His tongue entered my mouth, and my tongue entangled with his for a moment—he tasted like heaven, and when he stopped to look into my eyes, I was the one spellbound. I was in love.

"I'm sorry," he said, breathing heavily. "I just had to do that."

"I'm glad you did." It was nice to not kiss someone as close of relations as my father. Nick, in fact, was better than him. It made me only imagine how he was in bed.

"Elina," he said, leaning to whisper in my ear gently.

"If you ever need anyone to talk to, or to hang out, I'm always here for you. I'll even ditch football practice for you." Had he sensed something was wrong? Did something in my face give away my big secret? I don't mean the one about my powers.

"Thank you. That means a lot," I said to him.

A few nights later, the phone rang—who could it be?

Keri here! I hope you like the story so far and are not too grossed out by recent events in the newer chapters. If you ask about pairings, they're "Jelina" (Jimmy/Elina) and "Nelina" (Nick/Elina), aside from Bette being engaged to Mr. Loring.
I know the incest portion is some heavy duty stuff, but like I previously mentioned, stay away from the story if you aren't comfortable reading these types of things. Even for me, this is a first in writing about such a controversial topic, so this story is experimental in more ways than just that, especially since it's my first time writing about a transgendered person (Annika/Adam). I've done my research to the best of my ability about the topic of incest and why it happens.
If you read previously, Jimmy lost Britta, his wife whom he loved very much, and in the two years following her death, his sons are separated from the family (Jules in the Army, Toby at college, Christopher married, Annika/Adam being out of the picture for so long with his own life in New York), and it all narrows down to Elina, as she is all he has. He is an alcoholic, and yes, he becomes a manwhore for a brief period when he returns to Jupiter. Then, he settles on his daughter, who becomes a comfort for him while he continues to grieve. And yes, it is true that he loves her in the romantic way like he was with his late wife. If you look at Elina, it is quite clear that she only gives into her father because she feels sorry for him, and can empathize with him because she lost her mother while he lost his wife, and the pleasure from him allows her to forget about everything even for a short period of time. Incest itself isn't just limited to the obvious—there are causes, more often than not, to something so controversial. Anyways, leave Reviews and Favorite! Thank you and happy reading!