“What’s wrong? Why did you say that to Paul? Was it a prophetic thing that you did just now?”He nodded and looked thoughtful. His face was cragg... and worn by years of exposure to the sun and wind. “Yes, honey. A prophetic thing. I’m not sure why, or how, but I just know that boy will need our help. And real soon, too.”As Paul paid the driver of the Uber at the airport his cell phone chimed twice, telling him he had a call.“Hi, Pastor Paul, here,” he said. “How can I help you?”“Hey, Paul! This. “Of course you can,” he retorted, “and you’re going to, slut.” He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up off the couch. I stumbled, catching my balance as he dragged me to the bedroom behind him. I began to remove my sweatpants and he impatiently lifted me onto the bed, yanking them down for me along with my panties. “Get your shirt off,” he commanded me, and I followed his instruction, tossing my shirt to the ground. He dropped his towel and climbed on the bed on top of me. I thought he would just. More

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