Chapter 63 Torment

• Her legs cried out in pain as they were assaulted again and again by the unyielding concrete steps. It was too dark for her to see the darn flight before her, so she fumbled with her footing, desperately trying to avoid any new additions to her bruises. Raymond Stilinski, the brawny brute who had taken it upon himself to stalk her best friend and cousin, had a merciless grip on her upper right arm.
• "Hey, my arm doesn't bend that way nimrod!" she insulted him even as she was being half hazardly dragged toward an unknown location that just so happened to be at the top of a flight of stairs so hard the world could crumble around them, and they would still be standing. Her bare feet scraped against the rough concrete; she was sure she would be missing a few slices of her soles by the time they stopped.
• The thug before her was twisting her arm into such positions she was sure were humanly impossible, and he just ignored her protests. He came out of the basement before she did, and he almost threw her in front of him when they reached the top. She was suddenly engulfed in a very bright light that she had no time to protest the way her arm nearly came out of its socket after his rough treatment.