customers always needed extra napkins for their drool. Men tipped her routinely forty, fifty, a hundred, and on occasion a hundred plus percent of their bills. Women hated her.
She made so much in tips she could have lived off them working two nights a week. But she chose to work six nights a week. Charlene wanted to open her own restaurant one day. Secretly, as she worked and played the sultry role, she had been paying close attention to the ins and outs of restaurant management. Her bank account had been growing and growing and as the numbers in her savings registry grew and grew, she realized that her dream would come true sooner than she had ever thought.
Unfortunately for her—someone else had plans for her that would end all of that. As she left work after an especially amazing night of tips, she had not yet made it to her car when a man appeared from behind her, grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her to him. He pushed something into her face as he grabbed the scruff of her neck as if she was a cat. Within seconds Charlene went limp into his arms. Before she did, he whispered, “You are gonna be baptized tonight, girl. Did you say your prayers this morning? Daddy says heaven don’t take people like you. You’re about to find out.”
Tossed into the side of a white van like a piece of cargo, she tumbled in and the door shut behind her. Whatever substance had been forced into her face had her mind reeling and her ability to control her arms, legs, and other physical attributes taken away from her completely. Her mind was severely disadvantaged and functioned as if stuck inside a nightmare. Charlene had a vague sense of what was happening but could not do anything to make her body move or her mind think outside the fog it found itself trapped inside.
The van rumbled along with an AM radio station tuned to a fire and brimstone preacher spitting venom and a message of deliverance. They bumped and bounced along what felt like dirt or unfinished roads. When the van stopped and the motor turned off, Charlene could only hear breathing and the sound of water—she still could not move. The fog in her mind had cleared a bit but still hung thick. The side door to the van flung open with such vigor it bounced and shook the entire vehicle. Once again, the man grabbed Charlene by the scruff of her neck and hauled her out of the van. Of the things she should have been aware of, she could not help focusing her attention on his breathing.
From his breathing, Charlene understood he was scared or on some sort of drug like cocaine, meth, or some other form of speed. His excitement level maxed out as he pulled her to whatever destination he had in mind. Stopping, he deliberately grabbed one of her breasts. As he did he gasped for air. A moment later his hand dug under her shirt to grab her bare breast and upon finding it he squeezed with all his might. His breathing reached a point where Charlene thought she might be saved as whoever had her was about to pass out from overstimulation. She was not so lucky. He overcame his delirium and prayed aloud for the strength to baptize. Before he did his baptism, as he pulled her to the edge of what she perceived in her disorientation to be the side of a bridge—he did the unthinkable and shoved his hand down her pants and into her crotch. He pulled his hand out and screamed as he pushed her off the bridge, “I baptize you in the name of my Father.”
Chapter 10
Brother Jim woke up in the back of a white van which sat in a vacant parking lot by the beach in Jupiter, Florida. For some reason, the first thing he did was instinctively smell the middle finger of his right hand. He pulled his head back with the first sniff. The aroma pulled at a memory and he pulled his finger back to his nose to inhale again. As if it were a magical perfume, he fell back to sleep with his finger basically jammed up one of his nostrils.
An hour later he awoke again. Confused as he had been lately, he
She made so much in tips she could have lived off them working two nights a week. But she chose to work six nights a week. Charlene wanted to open her own restaurant one day. Secretly, as she worked and played the sultry role, she had been paying close attention to the ins and outs of restaurant management. Her bank account had been growing and growing and as the numbers in her savings registry grew and grew, she realized that her dream would come true sooner than she had ever thought.
Unfortunately for her—someone else had plans for her that would end all of that. As she left work after an especially amazing night of tips, she had not yet made it to her car when a man appeared from behind her, grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her to him. He pushed something into her face as he grabbed the scruff of her neck as if she was a cat. Within seconds Charlene went limp into his arms. Before she did, he whispered, “You are gonna be baptized tonight, girl. Did you say your prayers this morning? Daddy says heaven don’t take people like you. You’re about to find out.”
Tossed into the side of a white van like a piece of cargo, she tumbled in and the door shut behind her. Whatever substance had been forced into her face had her mind reeling and her ability to control her arms, legs, and other physical attributes taken away from her completely. Her mind was severely disadvantaged and functioned as if stuck inside a nightmare. Charlene had a vague sense of what was happening but could not do anything to make her body move or her mind think outside the fog it found itself trapped inside.
The van rumbled along with an AM radio station tuned to a fire and brimstone preacher spitting venom and a message of deliverance. They bumped and bounced along what felt like dirt or unfinished roads. When the van stopped and the motor turned off, Charlene could only hear breathing and the sound of water—she still could not move. The fog in her mind had cleared a bit but still hung thick. The side door to the van flung open with such vigor it bounced and shook the entire vehicle. Once again, the man grabbed Charlene by the scruff of her neck and hauled her out of the van. Of the things she should have been aware of, she could not help focusing her attention on his breathing.
From his breathing, Charlene understood he was scared or on some sort of drug like cocaine, meth, or some other form of speed. His excitement level maxed out as he pulled her to whatever destination he had in mind. Stopping, he deliberately grabbed one of her breasts. As he did he gasped for air. A moment later his hand dug under her shirt to grab her bare breast and upon finding it he squeezed with all his might. His breathing reached a point where Charlene thought she might be saved as whoever had her was about to pass out from overstimulation. She was not so lucky. He overcame his delirium and prayed aloud for the strength to baptize. Before he did his baptism, as he pulled her to the edge of what she perceived in her disorientation to be the side of a bridge—he did the unthinkable and shoved his hand down her pants and into her crotch. He pulled his hand out and screamed as he pushed her off the bridge, “I baptize you in the name of my Father.”
Chapter 10
Brother Jim woke up in the back of a white van which sat in a vacant parking lot by the beach in Jupiter, Florida. For some reason, the first thing he did was instinctively smell the middle finger of his right hand. He pulled his head back with the first sniff. The aroma pulled at a memory and he pulled his finger back to his nose to inhale again. As if it were a magical perfume, he fell back to sleep with his finger basically jammed up one of his nostrils.
An hour later he awoke again. Confused as he had been lately, he
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