Judy doesn't care about pee, neither do Jimmie or Al, but I got them all to do it. That was so crazy, I scared myself. Seriously, fifteen years old, n...ver been mistreated in my life, and I wanted to get pissed on, drink it, get ass-fucked with my head in the toilet bowl? It was so strange. At the time, I wanted it, I was asking for it, I loved it. Loved It. What the hell was wrong with me? I had a counselor I went to, but I thought if I talked too much about it, I would get Al and Jimmie. Leaning against the counter in the kitchen, HuCho's knees were so weak, she could hardly stand. "Now, what do I do?" She mumbled to herself. A dozen mixed up thoughts raced through her brain, but no solution short of screaming at Bob and forcing James to leave. She decided it wasn't the fault of James. Bob had placed the ad and James had answered, believing he had found a consenting wife for sex. Everything was Bob's fault! The only thing to do was be friendly and polite. Later, James would. And you had Angelina. And then she died.”I nodded.“You never had any other close friends. At least none that you talk about. And the work you do now. The secrecy. You grew up...”“Solitary.”“Yes. You solve your own problems, Joshua. Carry your own weight. I admire you for it, truly. But this is bigger than you.”She stopped, and I looked up, surprised. We’d walked all the way to the Church of St. Peter, built by the first Crusaders.“You’re suffering, Joshua. We’ve got to work on it together.”“I. He grabbed it, pulled it out, and pointed at the sergeant. ‘You’re gonna fuckin’ die, Ernie!’ he screamed, ‘then I’m gonna fuck your old lady right next to your cooling body!’ ‘Rod, don’t do this!’ Ernie Dawes said as he continued to draw his weapon. ‘You’re in enough trouble already, if you…’ He was having a hard time processing what he was seeing. It wasn’t possible that Rod Billingham, a man he worked with, a man he’d been in tough situations with, was doing this, and that Rod would actually.