Page 65 of Tempest

“What did you call this thing? Hermione?”

My heart surges into my throat. “Hermione? No,you didn’t! You couldn’t!”

“Oh, I fuckin’ did.” He lets out a cruel laugh. “Why did you name her that, anyway? Shouldn’t it have been Hedwig?”

At my distressed moan, he adds, “Because she had white fur, and so did the owl. Get it?”

“Fuck you!” the shriek bursts out of me without warning, without control. It lashes out of my throat with barbs, burning a pathway of hate.

He chuckles. A long whistle between teeth responds from another section of the room.

“She has some pipes on her than when we last had her.”

Another voice. A different male. Oh God, what’s going to happen to me?

“That furball is a warning to you, sweetheart. You listen to us. You do as we say, and you may come out of this with all your limbs in tact, unlike your poor pussy.”

I ask in a scratched tone, “How much do you want? And what makes you think you’ll succeed this time?”

A dark chuckle follows. The presence behind me moves to my front, and I hope, with all the good that’s left in my life, that he doesn’t bring my childhood pet with him. Hermione is meant to be safe at home. She’s too old to travel. Mom was meant to be taking care of her. How could this happen? How could I have let my guard down so much?

I can feel my mind slipping, and I grapple to get it back. To stay present. They can’t do this to me a second time.

Something pricks under my jaw, and I flinch. The tip of a knife. Laughter spirals through my ears, layered with different voices. There really are three of them, and one of them just blew in my face like I’m an animal in a cage.

My chest turns to fire when both my breasts are gripped and squeezed to a painful, wrenching level.

The initial voice comes closer. “We don’t want money this time, sweetheart. We want to send a message. With you.”

He twists my nipples, and I cry out. My stomach has dropped out from under, dread and horror taking its place in the center of my body, and I’m freaking out, I’m freaking out, I’m going away, I going, I’m gone…

“You’re naked, sweetheart. Did you realize that yet? And you’re all ours.”

… and then I smell it.

Him.

And I return, knowing exactly what this is.

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