Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,120

sounds something between a strangled gasp and an exhalation of relief.

He’s going to help me after all.

My mind becomes muddled almost as quickly as the breath that left my body. I need props ready because once I’ve given him what he wants, I’ll have to be ready to resume the show.

“Wait here,” I command him quietly.

“Where are you going?” Reade asks curiously.

I smile at him for a moment as I wrap my arms around my body and fight the urge that’s building far too quickly. The one that wants to be cleansed more than anything in the world.

“I have to get some toys.”

Chapter Eight

The cool air that seeps from the freezer is embracing me while I stand and stare at my options. There’s only one that I’m afraid to use because of the size, but I think it’s the one that will impress him the most.

If I want Reade to do a good job, then I’ll have to do one for him as well.

I reach for the largest package in the freezer and drop it into the bag in front of my feet. Cleansing is never about self-doubt, it’s about being able to start over again, and if this is what I need, then it has to be done.

I pull out a few smaller packages, smiling at each dull thump of them landing against each other until I feel like I have enough.

My eyes drift down toward the bag’s contents as I close the freezer door.

For being so patient with me, my customers will get to see a cleansing live as it happens for the first, and hopefully last, time.

When I get back to my showroom, I find Reade leaning against the back wall, hands buried deep in his pockets with a bored look on his face.

“Are you ready?” I ask as the door swings closed behind me.

“I was beginning to think you stood me up,” he replies in a bored tone.

I smile as I haul the bag toward the center of the room, drop it, then go back to lock the door.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I take a deep breath and say a silent prayer that this is what we’ll both need.

The words tumble past my lips, though no sound follows. My hands are folded against each other as I tilt my face toward the ceiling.

Oh, monster most high, guide me with your wisdom,

Ye who has abandoned your children, discipline me so that with a steady hand, I may bestow him with the grace of blood,

Villain who watches as we kill each other, die of disease, and starve help me show no mercy to they who do not deserve it,

Unclean spirit, give me the strength I need to see this through and send him to hell where we both belong.

Amen.

“You alright over there, Pally?”

Reade’s question snaps me back to the moment, and after I bless myself with the sign of the cross, I reach down for the hem of my habit, pull it over my head, and toss it aside.

There’s no time to waste—not now that I know she’s more than likely still in the hallway, ready to intervene when she hears the screams.

She always does and that’s why I lock the doors now when I’m ready to perform. She only ever ruined one of my very first shows and I lost a lot of customers that day.

I can’t let that happen again.

Reade lets out a low whistle and I shudder violently. I don’t like to be looked at as nothing more than a set of holes to be used, but this is the hand I’ve dealt myself and it’s what makes me the most money, allowing for me to do what I love best.

Kindness is the virtue I had been bestowed when I entered the walls of the convent. The Bitch Mother said she saw something in me that she knew could help me blossom into an amazing young woman, but it died the day she caned me for the first time.

All because I found a squirrel outside that had fallen out of a tree and landed on its head. All because I brought it inside and went to sit in the common room with it. All because instead of nursing it back to health, I placed its head in my mouth and bit down as hard as I could on its neck.

And as I turn around and finally face Reade again since having said my final prayer, I know that the same must be done