"If you think your hair hurts, wait till you keep shutting me out." He forced her forward as she opened her lips."Now SUCK!" He yelled at her, as she ...lowly moved her head forward. He forced her head back on and off, as she gagged occasionally tears down her cheeks as he made her continue. "Ah, finally, some peace at last." He chuckled as he let go of her hair. "Don't make me have to force you, or it'll hurt more. Now shove it down farther." She tried to, and it reached her throat, but she kept. " I know what you're saying about the boys is right," Trisha began to relent. "But, it still feels kind of funny. Can we wait until after the concert to decide?" When she looked at Mark with those big brown eyes, he couldn't deny her anything."Of course. I'm not trying to force you into anything you're not comfortable with; let's get ready to go."The concert was going well. Mark was really enjoying himself and Trisha was beaming as the proud parent she was. In between the choral and band. They thinkif they worry enough they'll be prepared for a situation. But awl theirworryin' won't amount to a hill a beans. The only way to prepare is toactually do something. To actually prepare. You going to this meetingunprepared? Ya do sum research of your own?"Robert smiled, thinking of the camera hidden in the headphones and Coryand Eli setting up elsewhere. "Yeah Uncle. I've prepared for thismeeting the best I can." Then don't worry." Uncle Taylor's voice was as calm as a summer'sbreeze.. Her husband Viktor had been another matter entirely. His features were more classically slavic, and he’d had thick brown hair and the deepest brown eyes she’d ever seen. Suki had inherited his looks, which Amila loved – if only because when she looked at her daughter she felt Viktor was still, somehow, with them both, but Suki’s differences worried her. Amila had met Viktor at medical school, in Sarajevo. That had been in 1989, she remembered, the year the Berlin Wall fell. The year real change.