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" She knew that Art was here and also knew that he was the undercover FBI agent who had saved her. I think she felt obligated to thank him, but thinking of him brought that night crashing back on her. The healing time has been too short and the memory is still too raw. We need to remember that she's fifteen and was forced to repeatedly have sex over a period of at least months, maybe longer, while pretending to be a twelve-year-old. Helen will be able to calm her down."Jeff, his frustration showing, said, "Art probably hasn't thought about Hope twice since the shootout. He's had his own problems. Hell, he's been trying to stay alive."Diana hugged her husband. "Helen has been expecting something like this, but I just felt so sorry for Hope. Baby, what her father made her do is ... terrible. It's too damn bad he was killed instantly. He should have had to suffer."Jeff smiled at his Queen. "Want to go dig him up and kill him again? Seems like I've heard that not long ago," he. And now, I was in a hotel room alone with a pretty older woman who had done unspeakably erotic acts upon a member of her own family. Her older sister’s son. A nephew.What was I supposed to do next? What was I supposed to say next? What was I supposed to think next? A part of me knew it was wrong, to accept what had happened as it occurred and never speak of it again. But there was another part of me, a greater part that wanted more. A nasty part that hadn’t had enough. It was something animalistic. Something that I couldn’t articulate back then. But I can say now with some confidence that it was stronger than any drug known to mankind. It surged through me like a shot of morphine, this bestial lust of carnal desire.Amy went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, presumably to strip off the little black dress and put on something more comfortable to fall asleep in. I, however, could no longer stand. I had to sit down in the lounge chair at the corner of the room, the same.
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