Arlette thought she was going to hit the floor! That man! That same man, the one who had been fucking and hitting and roping her mother last night, was standing right there in the doorway, toolbox in hand. She stared stupidly at him, tempted to slam the door in his face and rush back into the kitchen.

"Can I come in? I've got some jobs to do here, girlie," Jack said dryly, his eyes taking in the girl's lithe body.

Arlette blushed furiously, knowing exactly what must be going on in Jack's mind. She stepped back, still searching for her voice, half expecting him to take her roughly in his arms and rape her there on the spot.

"Mother's inside," Arlette said in a choked voice, turning and walking stiffly back into the kitchen. Monica peered out around the doorway and smiled a little uneasily at Jack. Arlette saw her embarrassment and thought she would faint. She wolfed down the bacon, watching Jack and her mother as Monica poured out some coffee and handed it to the stud.

"Gotta take care of some of the tiles in the garden," Jack muttered, the cup to his lips, his eyes drifting from Arlette to Monica, then back to the frightened teen once more.

"Of course," Monica murmured, noticing Jack's attention, and feeling a slight twinge of jealousy mixed with fear. No, she couldn't let her daughter know about this, couldn't even let her suspect what had happened last night and what would possibly happen in the future. Her fingers trembling and cold, Monica steadied her coffee cup, feeling her asscheeks resting against the sink counter and wishing with all her heart that Arlette would go somewhere and leave her and Jack alone.

"I… think I'll go outside and get some sun or something," Arlette muttered, putting down her glass of milk and wiping the white mustache from her upper lip.

Jack muttered, finishing his coffee, his eyes following the teenager as she rose from the table, then trotted from the kitchen.