Page 37 of Nun’s Prayer

“Are you? Why the fuck should I be bothered? You’re nothing to me,” I remarked idly.

“Wow, look at that mouth,” Catherine commented, appalled.

I eyed my sister and shrugged. “What the hell happened to you? You were pretty once,” I said. Catherine looked washed out; her hair was greying and scraped back into a bun. She wore clothes meant for someone Marion’s age.

“Don’t talk to my wife like that!” a balding, beer-bellied guy uttered.

“Why not? Jesus, look at you, Catherine. You’re thirty-six and appear fifty-six. This asshole’s drained the life from you. You’ve become a clone of her.” I pointed my thumb at Marion.

“Seems you’ve turned into quite the guttersnipe,” Edith sneered.

“Damn, if Catherine looks old, you’re rough,” I retorted.

Edith bristled. “I resemble a proper lady.”

“Shapeless tweed clothing, clunkers on your feet. Hair yanked back into a bun. Babe, you’re thirty-eight, not fifty-eight. Why did you let yourselves go?” I shook my head.

“I suppose we should dress as a slut like you?” Edith hissed.

“Girl, my hair gleams with health; I’ve hardly any grey, and the colour is natural. My tits are a nice size, perky and not drooping. My thighs are toned and muscled, and I’ve a little pooch, but my stomach’s pretty damn good. Um, my skin has a healthy sheen unlike your washed-out appearance, and my eyes sparkle while you’ve bags upon bags! You wanna compare? I’m fuckin’ stunning compared to you three. What the fuck is wrong with her?” I snapped, pointing at Hilary, who had her eyes closed but her lips were moving.

“She’s praying for you!” Marion retorted.

“Then she better pray I get big cocks and multiple orgasms!”

“Harlot!” Keith roared.

“Yup, a Royal one,” I replied, and Keith looked confused. I tapped my patch. “Royal Harlots MC. I’m a sister. Calling me a Harlot isn’t the insult you think.” I laughed.

“I’m so glad I left my family at home,” Charles said, and I began chuckling again.

“There he is! The pompous little asshole. Well, Charles, you didn’t age gracefully. Christ, look at the size of your gut. Do you need a bra for those man boobs you’ve got?” I sneered. “The comb-over is shocking for a thirty-nine-year-old. Boy, do I pity your wife having to fuck you.”

Charles began spluttering as I realised what a good time I was having. None of them knew what to say.

“You wouldn’t dare utter that without this gate between us,” Charles yelled.

“Open the gate,” I ordered Heli.

“Nun…”

“Open it!”

Heli pressed the buzzer, and the gate rolled back.

“No barrier now, Charles, come on. Bring it.”

Charles stepped forward and slapped me hard. Immediately, my fist shot out, and I punched him straight in the nose. Blood spurted everywhere as Charles shrieked.

“How dare you?” Marion screamed, rushing towards Charles to check on him. Hilary, shocked out of praying, stared at me wide-eyed.

“You harmed your brother?” Keith said, aghast.

“I don’t bitch slap, I go for the kill. Anyone touches me, I’ll deliver a beating to them,” I warned. “I’m not your fuckin’ punch bag or victim anymore!”

“When I saw you trying to get into that sex club, I thought you were lost. Now I know you are. We came to take you back, help you repent, and guide you on the right path again,” Marion said, wringing her hands. “But you’re truly lost.”

“Enter The Royal Lounge? What, as a customer?”