Page 28 of Praying for Thunder

It wouldn’t be the only time he’d do so.

The drive home was a quiet one. As my eyes drifted shut, I smiled seeing Dio holding my Ani’s hand.

I woke to Dio pulling me from my car seat. It felt natural to set my sleepy head on his shoulder as he braced his other arm around Ani. For the first time, I wasn’t hidden under a blanket. I wasn’t covered by a hat…

Seeing familiar headlights in the parking lot, I waved to Stew.

Outside his parked car, he stood next to the two bikers from the club. Stew, with a relieved smile, waved back to me. His betrayal to Ani was a blessing, giving us a couple years of peace.

I’ll forever be grateful.

Inside the apartment, Diablo didn’t comment about our poor living conditions. That wasn’t his style. I would soon learn he was already making mental notes and plans to change our immediate environment.

In the bedroom, he carried me over the packed bags—a trail of us almost slipping through his fingers. Tiredly, I told him, “You have to lock the door.”

“I did, buddy.”

He had locked the front door but not… “No. That one.”

He turned to the open bedroom door. “This one?”

“Yeah.” I yawned.

He did it. “Now, what do ya normally do, buddy?”

“A movie, but Ani is too tired.” I moved in his arms to be placed on the bed. He watched me crawl up the middle of it and slip under the blankets. I patted the spot to my right, closest to our bathroom. “Want to sleep with us?”

Dio seemed to be very focused, yet concerned with what he was seeing. He swallowed. “I’d love to.”

Ani was moving slowly, carefully putting her pajamas on.

My head rested on pillows while I watched Dio intently. “What’s that?” I asked after he laid a weapon on a folding chair next to the bed. We didn’t have nightstands or much furniture.

“It’s called a gun. It’s very dangerous. Never touch it without me. Promise?”

With wide blue eyes, I stared at it, answering with as much seriousness as I could muster. “Yes, sir.” Another item was laid on the chair. So, I asked, “Is that a knife?”

“The sharpest kind. Don’t ever touch it, okay? It could cut your finger off—” He looked to an appalled Ani. “What?”

Her arm was half in her pajama shirt. “A bit harsh. No?”

He shrugged. “Not as harsh as a missing finger.”

I gasped, pulling the blankets closer to my chin.

“See?” Dio teased. “He gets me.”

They both got in bed, crawled under the covers, laid down, and faced each other.

Dio asked Ani, “Tell me about her?”

Ani’s head rested on a pillow, spasms crossing her face. “She was my best friend.”

With a knowing nod, he told her, “I felt your love for her.”

The way Ani’s mouth was strained, yet open, spoke of how hard it was to breathe. “Do you believe in angels?”

“I believe in more than most.”