Page 56 of Praying for Thunder

The radio lowered. “You look like shit.”

Terrified eyes slowly moved to the front seat. “No.”

He flung a blindfold back to us. “Pearl, put it on.”

Her throat bobbed. “But you were to leave him.”

He watched her through the rearview mirror. “The little fucker insisted on following you.” We turned down a quiet dirt road to find another car. “He’s my brother’s problem now.”

Switching three more cars, in various parts of the country, and three days later—creating a wild goose chase to stump any Bastard, we finally arrived at a small, dingy cabin in some woods. I would’ve asked Ani if she knew where we were, but her covered eyes told me the answer.

Even though Ani and I had only been given two burgers and three bottles of water to share throughout the journey, Piercer barely ate more than us. And he slept even less, fueling the eruption he was about to deliver.

Shoving Ani through the open doorway of the cabin, he demanded, “Bitch, shower. We’re fucking.” He had me by the back of my pajamas, practically dragging me inside.

When Ani and I dared to reach for each other, I was thrown. I’m talking, flat out, picked up and thrown across the one-room cabin.

As I flew through the air and past a bed, my Ani screamed in horror.

There was nothing to be said or done. I was at this madman’s mercy now.

My body slammed into a wall and slid down like a ragdoll. I lay on the dirty wooden floor, in complete shock. I had never felt such power before. Even with a rare—yet much-needed—spanking from Ani, I was clueless about any mean physical touch.

Leaving me where I lay, Piercer paid me no mind. Only to Ani who was running to me. He picked her up, too, then crashed her body to the floor, ten feet from mine.

Like a crazed grizzly bear, he leaned over her and roared, “I said fucking shower!”

Blinking, she tried to get up but collapsed back to the ground. She tried again but her arms and numb legs struggled to lift her weight. I think her head injury was compounded by this violent act.

A massive hand reached down, seized a clump of bloody hair, then dragged her tiny body that was attempting to properly react to fear or cruel demands.

She couldn’t manage to remove her clothing. So, Piercer did it for her.

On the ground, motionless, my young mind far too innocent to comprehend such a lack of concern for someone else, I watched her PJ attire be ripped from her.

Ani choosing to undress for someone else—to make money—was something that never gave me an afterthought. It was a normality that hadn’t caused her wounds that I could see.

This? This malicious stripping?

It was horrifying.

As confusion cleared from her face, she began to thrash, begging for freedom. I say freedom because that is truly what was being stripped away. Her rights as a human being were being assaulted as much as her body and heart.

Dio…

He never even forced my Ani to speak when she wasn’t ready.

Dio…

Soaking wet, my nightmare set fire. Ani begged for forgiveness as she was shoved, pushed, and forced toward the bed at my feet. She begged, “Piercer, I’m sorry. I was young. I made a mistake—”

If witnessing Ani being forcefully stripped was hard to comprehend for my young mind, her being struck was devastating. Her body, no longer with a will of its own, fell to the side on top of the mattress. It bounced. It cowered.

Mine reacted. “Ani!” I was suddenly scrambling forward.

Until Piercer was in my face.

Hands on his knees, his head tilted in the manner I now hated. “What are you going to do?” He smirked in a malevolent dare. “Huh?”