David Eaglach's fingers had almost reached the exposed skin of his stepdaughter's thigh when an incoming call appeared on the dashboard. Frowning, he glanced over the steering wheel at the name flashing on the screen, closed his eyes, and swore.

"Mummy must be desperate to speak with you."

Sarah was slouched against the door, her legs tucked in beneath her short cream skirt, her head resting against the rain-streaked window pane. Behind her head, glimpses of the soaked countryside, dull and still in the grey dusk, flashed at irregular intervals in the gaps of the hedgerow. She had barely moved or said anything since they had left London. The only thing that had perked her interest were these damn phone calls.

"This must be the fourth or fifth time she's called me in the past hour," he said.

Sarah rolled her eyes and tucked her legs closer to herself.

"Switch the phone off if it bothers you so much. How many times do I have to say it?"

"It just bothers me that she's calling me while she's away on business. She never does that."

Had Fiona found out about this weekend getaway? It was impossible. He peered at Sarah.

"Do you think she knows about us?"

"She probably just wants to speak to her husband. It's Valentine's Day, after all."

The headlights of a tractor appeared at the end of the road. Its outline was starting to blend into the landscape in the fading light. As it approached, David saw the driver gesticulating at his car. After a second of confusion, David realized what the man was trying to convey. He gestured an apology and flicked the switch beneath the steering wheel to fully illuminate the road.

"Tut, tut. You must be rattled."

"Shut up."

As they neared a bend further down the road, a pair of lights appeared in the rearview mirror.

"I know you're scared of her."

He slowed into the curve, and the lights swayed off to the left and disappeared. The first droplets of rain sounded against the windshield. Thunder cracked and rolled somewhere in the distance.

"I do hope this bloody weather improves."

"Why are you so scared of mummy?"

David threw her an irritated side glance. The girl's insolence was exasperating enough. But this conceited belittlement struck a nerve. He felt his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

"I'm not scared of my wife, Sarah."

"Oh please. You've always been scared of her. When have you ever confronted her about anything, Daddy?"

There it was. That word. She knew the effect it had on him. She knew how simultaneously maddening and intoxicating he found it when she said it at the same time she was calling him a coward.

"Behave yourself, Sarah. This was supposed to be a pleasant weekend."

She lifted her face from the window and looked at him. The landscape behind her was now draped in a deep shade of grey. In a few minutes, everything would be submerged in darkness. Something reflected in the rearview mirror. The headlights had reappeared where they had exited the bend.

"This weekend wasn't supposed to be pleasant, Daddy."

David frowned. The lights were growing larger. He was sure of it. Driving faster than thirty was risky on a narrow road like this. Especially at night.

He heard her shuffle toward him and blow onto the side of his face. The air was warm and sweet with the scent of peppermint.

"You're a dirty pervert," she whispered.

David snapped his head to look at her.

"Don't deny it, Daddy. You're taking your barely legal stepdaughter to a seedy bed-and-breakfast in the middle of nowhere on Valentine's Day so that you can fuck her little cunt."

The words were sharp and laced with a delicious venom. It coalesced in his mind to form images whose obscenity made him stutter for air.

"You want to fuck me again, don't you...?" she hissed.

The hair on David's neck stood up. Goosebumps spread over his shoulders. He looked away. Focus on the road, he told himself. Don't be a fool.

"...and again..."

A white chill slipped down his back. He shuddered.

"...and again until there's nothing left. And because you're so pathetic, you'll clean me up and take me home and act like nothing happened when that esteemed bitch who calls herself my mother asks you about what we got up to while she was away."

The chill left his spine and slipped between his legs where it became a warm line that grew hard and thick and taut. The fabric shifted under the pressure of his growing cock.

Keeping his eyes on the road, David lifted his hand off the gearstick and placed it around her neck. The muscles contracted beneath his touch as she gasped for air.

"Go on, Daddy," she whispered through the soft chokehold. "Do it. Fuck your little girl."

The band between his legs was about to snap. Yet David was not going to rush this. He would savor every excruciating second of the anticipation. With his eyes still on the road, he said,

"Spring is my favorite season. Did you know that?"

"You'll never stand up to mummy. You'll never run away with me."

His grip tightened.

"Everything is blossoming. Everything is young and fresh and beautiful."

His right eyelid fluttered. She was right. He was going to fuck this little slut. And once again, Fiona would suspect nothing. She would know nothing. It made every silent dinner, every demeaning comment, and every night of sexless sleep just that little bit more endurable.

"But do you know what makes spring truly beautiful, Sarah?"

"You'll never confront her. You'll never tell her the tru—"

His fingers cut her off. He could feel the air caught inside her throat.

"The rain."

He turned and looked into her steel-gray eyes. The pupils were dilated, still and full of a strange delirium. Thunder struck nearby, roaring and rolling until all they could hear was the patter of the rain and the drone of the engine.

"Because rain makes everything wet."

With one swift movement, he released his grip, curled his hand around her neck, and dug his fingers deep into the golden strands of hair at the back of her head. Grabbing a thick clump, he shoved her face into his crotch.

As she fumbled at his belt, he let go of her hair and ran his hand down her back, over the smooth contour of her ass, and under the edge of the skirt. Her thighs pressed together as his fingers found the moist slit of her cunt.

"There's a good girl."

He slipped two fingers inside her, and she groaned. Then he felt his cock spring into her warm mouth. She tightened her lips around the skin and slid them halfway down his shaft until he could feel the tip of his cock nearing the back of her tongue.

"There's a good girl."

Within moments, the moisture on his shaft had become thick, and the sucking gave way to slurping. The friction of her lips also gave way until David could only feel a faint ring gliding up and down his engorged meat. Running his fingers through her bobbing hair, he delighted in the objectification of this once sweet girl. At this moment, she was his sleeve, a bobbing skull whose thoughts and feelings were meaningless to him. She was a hole in a way Fiona never had been and never could be.

"Nice and deep. There we go."

A damp sucking noise escaped her cunt as he jerked his fingers in and out of her. It mixed with the sounds of her mouth and encouraged him to go faster and harder. His back stiffened as the first hint of the impending surge took hold of him.

"There— There's a good girl, Sarah."

Her thighs hardened. David refused to remove his fingers. The stabs were so rapid that they vibrated against the inner wall of her cunt. Her thighs twisted and pulled and pushed until she lifted her lips from his cock and squealed as if in pain.

"Don't stop, Daddy. Don't—"

A white light suddenly filled the rearview mirror. David looked up, but the glare was too intense, and he instinctively shut his eyes. In the confusion, the car began to swerve, and David instinctively hit the brakes. A moment later, something crunched into the rear end of the car.

Panicking, David pressed on the gas. Glancing back, he saw the front of a black SUV trailing them by a few meters. Although he couldn't make out the driver's face, David could see they were gesticulating wildly at him.

"Jesus! Why was that bastard trailing us so closely?" He turned to Sarah. "Buckle yourself in."

Sarah clipped her seatbelt and looked over her shoulder.

"I'm scared, Daddy. Did they do it on purpose?"

"I have no bloody idea."

Something scratched at the corner of his mind. There was something about that SUV. He had seen it before. As the realization suddenly struck him, the SUV accelerated and swerved to overtake them. David held his gaze on the side mirror. It couldn't be, he thought. It must be a coincidence.

Sarah screamed. "It's her! It's Mummy!"

The SUV pulled level with them. Ice enveloped his heart. The manic face looking back at him was his wife's.

As he processed that awful truth, Sarah lurched for the steering wheel.

"Sarah, no!"

That was all he managed to shout before the car swerved into the SUV, smashing against its side to the sound of steel crunching, bending, and snapping against steel. David hit the brakes. The tires screeched and the car swung away from the SUV and burst through the hedgerow. It rumbled over an incline and then dove into a shallow ditch. The rear wheels lifted off the ground, and a second later, the car tipped. The roof smacked against the wet earth to the sound of shattering glass.

At first, David could only hear his breathing. The impact must have broken the headlights. His eyes, fueled by shock, darted around as they adjusted to the terrifying darkness. Gradually, his surroundings became visible, and he saw that he was upside down. The belt had kept him fastened to his seat. He looked to the side. Sarah was buckled to her seat like him. But she was not moving.

He yanked at the belt. When the buckle came out, he crawled to Sarah and placed a finger on her neck. She had a pulse. There were no visible injuries.

The relief flooding through him was quickly replaced by the memory of her grabbing the steering wheel. Why the hell had she done that? They could have all been killed. Fiona included.

Oh God, he thought. Fiona.

Sarah gave a weak groan. "Daddy." Her eyes were shut, but she was shifting her arms and legs.

"It's okay, darling, you're okay."

"What— What happened?"

"Come on. We need to move."

A sharp pain spread through David's side as he dragged her toward him and out through the broken door.

Once outside, he stood up and looked around. The rain was now thick and loud and it obscured the darkness around them. A lightning flash lit up the landscape. David caught a glimpse of smoke billowing in the distance. The lightning flashed again, and he saw it was coming from Fiona's SUV. She had hit a tree about twenty or thirty meters further along the road.

"Can you walk?"

Sarah nodded, and she got to her feet. The drenched hair clinging to her shoulders appeared almost black.

"We need to check on Mummy," he said.

"What?" Her eyes widened with alarm.

"She could be hurt."

"No."

"What?"

Sarah's eyes shifted from side to side. It made David uneasy. She only did that when she was thinking on her feet.

"I can't walk."

He peered at her ankles. She did not look like she was in pain when she had stood up. But he had no time to question her about it. He needed to check on Fiona.

"Fine. Wait here. I’ll be back."

The pain in David's side cut deeper and deeper with each step he took toward the broken SUV. When he got to the door, he saw the hood had slammed head-on into the side of the tree. He wrenched the driver door open. Fiona was crumpled against the dashboard, blood trickling down her forehead, her wide eyes quivering with shock.

"Jesus. Are you okay?"

David leaned in and put his arms under her. She flinched at his touch.

"Sarah," she croaked.

He pulled back. "What?"

"I know."

Shame welled within him despite the absurdity of the situation.

"Let's get you out. We can discuss that later."

"No."

David stiffened. Something about the way she looked at him was disturbing.

"I know about her."

"What on Earth do you mean?"

"She's—" Fiona gasped for air. "She's not... ...what you think she is. She—"

The world swayed. A sheering pain spread from the back of his head. Then everything gave way, and his face thudded against the mud.

Sarah's ankles were directly in front of him. A moment later, she crouched down. David looked up. She was holding a crowbar. Something dark and thick was dripping off the end. David tried to lift his arm to feel the back of his head, but his arm refused to budge.

"I told you mummy was a bitch."

She smiled at him. David's breathing began to stutter at the awful realization of what was happening.

"W— Why?" he rasped.

Sarah tilted her head to the side. "It was fun at first. But then I knew you'd never actually run away with me. You always were a coward."

Tears welled in David's eyes. A lump expanded in his throat.

"So I decided to run away without you. But then I couldn't stand the thought of you going back to that fucking cow. And I also hated the idea of you skulking off with some other young slut."

She swung the crowbar across her shoulders and held it with both hands like a baseball player. Her tongue slid across her top lip as if she were licking an invisible line of milk.

"I wanted this Valentine's Day weekend to be our last great fuckfest. I really did. But then mummy had to ruin it. She ruins everything else, so I don't know why I’m surprised."

The smile disappeared, and she took a deep breath.

"Sorry it had to end like this."

She swung the crowbar high above her head. David shut his eyes. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. A thousand images flickered through his mind in rapid succession, each one vying to be his final memory.

"Bye-bye, Daddy."