Is that enough? Do I have to apologize to my daughter?”“She won’t accept it,” I said.“Fucking right I won’t!” Stefani hissed. “Really ...ive it to her.”“She wants nothing to do with you. She hates you,” I growled. “I don’t blame her. What type of mother says those things to her own daughter? You hated her for the very thing you were. Why are you such a terrible person? Some fucking Christian you are. You’re full of hate. Bile.”Mrs. Armstrong swallowed, her cheeks pale.“If I had a daughter, I. First, I faked anger: "Mom stop it! JESSY!! Both of you are such.... I'm warning you!" I said as I threatened mom with a finger high. I faked a very serious face just like dad used to as I was stepping closer to mom but she couldn't stop laughing. So I stepped even closer to her giving her a hint by asking a simple question: "Are you ticklish, mom?" and all of a sudden she stopped laughing and then she tried to make a serious face herself but she couldn't get proper amount of air in her. As we talked I could see her looking me up and down. She started to get a little flirty, laughing at my corny jokes and stuff. I really didn’t think too much of it. Her husband was a pretty interesting guy as well. Lots of stories and whatnot but I had to go. He said that I should stop by their trailer that evening for a drink. Lot number 56. That was quite close to mine and why not – I could use the company. I said sure and his wife winked at me and said, “oh good, I can hardly wait”. . He saw his horse tied to a limb nearby and his saddle was still on him. He hoped his handgun was still in his saddlebags. He worked his hands until he finally got the rope loose and tried to crawl over to his horse.His face felt like it was on fire and he ran his swollen, numb fingers over the side of his face and felt the dried crusted blood from the cuts on his face.He knew they had used a knife on him, he could feel the crusted trail of blood from his ears to his chin, then back up the other.