Page 76 of Praying for Thunder

And I refused to cry.

I stared at Roamer, being sure I had listened to him this time. I would be damned if I showed an ounce of weakness.

Chubs stood next to him, covering his mouth, eyes wide.

Fortunately, as the other Titans retreated to their rooms, not commenting on the beating, Piercer stopped. Do I dare say another bout of shame lingered in the room? Sometimes, nothing being said, says everything.

Piercer threw the belt to the ground and then also left the room.

Even though my legs were wobbly, and I was on the verge of passing out, I told myself, One win for Thunder.

Onus gave a nod of approval as Roamer and Chubs came to me, eyeing their leader for permission. Not one word was shared as they helped me back to our room, but the respect was thick. I had survived my second round in the Lion’s Den.

I only had years to go.

⚡⚡⚡

Three weeks going by without sight of Rya, my rebellious side ticked up another notch. Opening the bedroom window, I cursed when a piercing alarm started wailing in the night. I yelled, “Damnit!”

Our door swung open. “Hellion!” screamed Dad.

“One goodbye!” I yelled back. “That’s all I’m needing!”

He stormed forward, ready to rip my head from my shoulders, but he had to understand.

“She loves me!”

He lifted a fist to hit me.

“Didn’t anyone ever love you?”

He stopped mid-swing.

“Ever?” I was pleading to not get a beat-down, but also for my burning heart. That’s what it felt like to not see Rya, or at least be able to explain why I had abandoned her. What was that sweet girl thinking of me?

His fist lowered; dark eyes that were just full of rage were now completely bewildered. “A long time ago.”

Not the answer I was expecting. Nor Chubs and Roamer. They left the room, closing the door.

After the alarm was shut off by his Enforcer, I promised, “I don’t mean to disrespect you. I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

Walking toward the couch, he winced. “You guys fuck or something?”

Now I winced. “Eww!”

“Eww? Not exactly, son.” He plopped on the couch—my bed—laughing. “How old is she?”

“Twelve.”

He shrugged. “That is a little young.”

Since his eyes had cleared and showed an ounce of humanity, I dared to sit on the couch, too, but on the other end in case he felt like striking again. Hoping I wasn’t crossing a line, I said, “I overheard Ani once, talking about being young—” I hand motioned, needing him to fill in the lines.

Exhaustion hitting him like a freight train, his head fell back, and his eyes drifted shut. “That wasn’t me. That was men long gone now.” When I said nothing, an eye opened to see me waiting for more. “What?”

“Who was it?”

“Hellion, it’s late. Let’s get some sleep—”