Page 26 of Praying for Thunder

She slid behind her steering wheel. “Another lie! I can’t get you to leave me alone!”

“As you wish.” He raised his hands and backed away.

Ego a little stung by his sudden retreat, Anita slammed her door shut. “Asshole.” Turning the key, she was shocked the car wouldn’t start. “No. I just got you fixed!”

I rested the tip of my finger to the glass between us. “Bye, Dio.”

He came to me, the tip of his finger meeting mine. “Never give up, kid. Ever.”

Ani was still attempting to start her car until his words sunk in. Over her shoulder, she glared at him. Pissed, she rolled down the window. “What did your minions do to my car?”

He tapped the glass between us once and then went to her, leaning his elbows on the door, half in the window. “They’re just buying their brother a little time to explain—”

She grabbed the steering wheel and shook it while screaming her frustration. “Fix my fucking car!”

That startled me. My bottom lip trembled. “Ani?”

Not pulling back from the window, Dio promised, “I’m not hurting her, Thunder.”

Call it my own gifts already appearing, but Dio hurting Ani was the last thing I would accuse him of. Since the first moment I met him, I knew, without a doubt, he was a good person. That didn’t stop my eyes from filling with tears. “I know, but my Ani is sad.”

Normally, hearing me cry, Ani would’ve fought to get to me and hold me tight until I calmed. Not tonight. She was finding the end of her rope—the last of her fight.

I think fear was finally showing its toll on her sweet soul.

Breathless, her mouth was gaping at him. “Why did you just call him Thunder?”

He exhaled. “Because it’s what she named him.”

Losing all steam, her head dropped forward to rest on her hands gripping the wheel tight. “Diablo, no more lies,” she cried. “I’m so scared I can barely breathe. You don’t understand what he means to me.” Her shoulders shook as her terror broke free… “I’m so tired of being afraid for him.”

With so much compassion, Diablo rested his hand on her back. “I understand that. I swear it. Let me help you.”

“How?” she cried. “You’re connected to them.”

“I don’t even know who ‘them’ is.”

“Then…” Absolutely sobbing now, she asked, “How. Do. You. Know what happened that night?”

Sympathy all over his face, he ran his hand over her hair. “I can only give certain details to a brother or Old Lady.”

Weeping, she declared, “I’m neither.”

“I know—”

“So, please, let me go.”

“I can’t.”

She moaned, “Why?”

Lost, but convinced, he rubbed his chest. “It seems, any way shape or form of pleasing you… eases me.”

Utterly confused, she tried to say, “Y-You don’t k-know me.”

In disbelief himself, he explained, “That is where you are so wrong.”

“Because you’re with them?”