This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
FILTHY: Saints and Sinners 3
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2019 © Katherine Rhodes
Cover: JRA Stevens for Down Write Nuts
Formatting: Down Write Nuts
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
The author acknowledges the following brands, companies, organizations, and copyrights: Sharpie, Star Wars, Hedonismbot (Futurama), Pat’s, Gino’s, Shank’s, John’s Roast Pork, UPenn, Penn Medicine, Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, St. Christopher’s Children’s Hospital, Audi, Toyota.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
Also by Katherine Rhodes
More From Katherine
Also by
Sebastian
“So, how did your day go with Mason?”
I knew before she answered me. The tears were shining in her eyes, and I pushed the box of tissues toward the young woman.
“He and I had a very long conversation about our relationship and…he’s only willing to wait so long for me to ‘get over’ what happened to me,” she answered. She pulled out a few tissues. “He’s not mean about it, but he’s frustrated we can’t do much more than a simple peck on the lips.”
“And you?” I folded my legs under the desk. “How do you feel about all this?”
“I’m more frustrated than I can put into words. I know he’s not going to hurt me, I know there’s nothing inherently bad about having sexual feelings and touching and eventually doing it, but my body is just so goddamn fucking hardwired into freaking out, or resigning that I can’t get beyond it.”
This sweet child in front of me, one Elutheria Stavros-soon to be Warner-Skillman, had been a child prostitute at twelve, and sex trafficked at fourteen. She survived, and not only just survived but was thriving under the care of her adoptive mother and father.
Her sexual growth, however, was severely retarded by all that had happened. Walking through it with her wasn’t going to be the only thing she needed. She needed more. Her words showed that she understood the fundamentals of healthy sex and good sexual relationships.
We just had to bust down the walls that were holding her back. Namely, touch.
“Let me ask you this.” I twisted the pencil in my fingers. “Do you hesitate when Wren, Fischer, or Lincoln touch you?”
“They don’t—”
“No, I mean casually. Touch your hand, wrap you in a hug, drop a kiss on your forehead.”
“Do you see what I mean?” she growled. “My brain went straight to the perverse. It’s like I can’t stop thinking about sex no matter what the question or situation. I think someone is going to imply I’m fucking Fischer or Lincoln—or hell, Wren. I just can’t seem to drop this paranoia.”
“So, that brings up another question and we’ll go back to my first in a moment. Are you being hyper vigilant about other people’s perceptions because of the impending adoption?”
Her brow knitted a bit. “I…I hadn’t really thought about that. Maybe? They’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m a mess and I don’t want anything to keep them from adopting me.”
“Keep them from adopting you, or keep the system from disallowing the adoption because of questionable goings on?”
This time, she sat up straight, and I could see the wheels in this highly intelligent young woman’s brain whirling. A moment later, she dropped her head. “Them. Definitely them. The system doesn’t want to deal with this,” she tapped her temple, “and they’ll be happy to get rid of me. I’m just terrified that Wren and Fischer—and Lincoln—are going to walk on this deal.”
“Have they said anything like that?”
She shook her head in the negative.
“How much longer for the judge to sign off?”
“About three months. And that’s because of scheduling conflicts with the two of them. I had no idea there were brain surgeries scheduled six months in advance.”
“What makes you think that they would walk away from you?”
“I’m damaged.” Her answer was instant. “I’m so, so damaged.”
“Why are you here?”
“Here where?”
I gestured to the office, to the desk, to my notepad, and her file. “Here.”
“Because I need help.”
“Why?”
Ellie looked confused. “I’m damaged.”
“And who sent you here to get help?”
“Wren. Fischer.”
“Why?”
“Because they know I’m damaged!” In her frustration, she made the connection, and I saw the comprehension slide on to her face. “They already know I’m messed up. They want to help me get better. To be as normal as a former sex worker and sex toy possibly can.”
Smiling, I bobbed my head in approval. “You got it.”
She steepled her hands over her mouth and nose and let out a breath. “They don’t hate me. They aren’t taking me on some condition of me getting better. They aren’t closing their eyes to the fucked-uppedness of my life. They genuinely want me in their lives.”
I tapped my nose and grinned. “You got it, kiddo.”
“Shit that feels good.” She laughed, slumping back.
“Major breakthrough here, Ellie. Major breakthrough. Glad I could help you.” I looked at the note on the notepad. “Now. We need to work on the touch thing. The three of them don’t trigger this response in you, correct?”
She nodded.
“Can we start with someone neutral? My thought on this was maybe go for a massage. A light one, not deep tissue or shiatsu. Just a gentle one. Nonsexual, relaxing, simple touch massage. You can go to a parlor, and take Wren with you, and just have a short one.”
Ellie swallowed. “Wren can go with me? Or maybe Miriam or Laxmi if she can’t?”
“I’ve noticed you bringing them up frequently,” I answered. “Do you trust them?”
“They started as Wren’s friends, but I think we’ve become friends on our own. I know it’s weird to think of someone twice my age as my friend, but they know everything about me and don’t judge at all.”
“Then yes, I don’t see why they wouldn’t be a good companion for this.” I nodded, and wrote down the two names she’d been mentioning more and more. I was pretty sure that Laxmi was Doctor Laxmi Rana, her future father’s bu
siness partner, and Miriam Crownin, her wife.
“What would you like to do about Mason?”
“I want to keep seeing him,” she said, without any hesitation. “But…I can’t ask him to keep holding on for me. I don’t know how long this is going to take and I would rather…”
I waited. I knew what she was going to say, because this young woman was a morally fantastic person, who saw right and wrong with no rose tinting anywhere. She had lived in the gray.
After a pause and a deep breath. “I think I would rather keep him as friend than lose him and spoil the connection we share. We’re only sixteen. We’re only going to be juniors next year. There’s no reason for us to be committing to each other like we’re the last ones on Earth.”
“Elutheria, I wish all of my patients were as insightful and thoughtful as you.” Tipping my head I gave her a smile.
We chatted about some more coping mechanisms for the last ten minutes of the session and then we set up another appointment for the next week. Grateful and happy, Ellie took the appointment card and trotted off, on her way. I knew there would be a car waiting for her downstairs.
Wren and Fischer were so careful to give her just enough freedom without risking her safety. She usually took hired cars—not Ubers, not taxis, but actual liveried cars. They didn’t get her a personal driver, either. It was merely a standing account they kept. It was brilliant really—she wasn’t ever exposed to the people who had taken her and nearly destroyed her, but she wasn’t a hundred percent beholden to her parents.
The development of Lincoln in their lives was slightly unexpected, but at the same time, he seemed as invested in Ellie—and now the twins—as the other two.
Mm. A dedicated threesome. I wondered, briefly, if Lincoln and Fischer were into each other, as well as Wren. My brain happily supplied that picture and I had to snap off my brain’s view screen.
It was something I’d always wanted to try. Either way. The idea had always intrigued me. Everything about sex always intrigued me, which was why I was in the field I was in: sex therapy.
Sometimes, though, my imagination got the better of me and my thoughts went galloping off in very wrong and raunchy directions. I had a lot of fantasies about threesomes and more-somes. I always had. I was distinctly and clearly pansexual.
I also carried the title doctor, and with that, I needed a measure of decorum.
Victoria helped, a lot. The kids helped as well. They grounded me and helped me remember there were people who depended on my keeping my nose—and my cock—clean.
Didn’t stop all the fantasies, though.
And just thinking about a threesome dedicated to only each other, not a random hookup or passing fancy? Yeah, that did things to me. And my dick.
“Shit,” I mumbled, immediately thinking of the common core math I had tried to help Elliot with the night before to kill whatever trace of a hard-on had tried to rise. It worked, common core was withering to all body parts.
Organizing the notes for the day, I started typing some of them in, so I didn’t have to spend the entire admin day next Tuesday just entering notes. And I could even start to send out some of the insurance claims.
I always got very involved in the notes from the session and from the notes I made after the fact. I would print out a sheet of topics I wanted to revisit or introduce in the next session. I would get so deep, Victoria had started texting me daily to remind me to stop and come home for dinner.
A knock on the door startled me, and when I looked up it was dark out. What?
I grabbed the phone. It was seven-thirty, there was no six p.m. text from my wife.
The knock came again, this time more demanding. Our shared receptionist had gone home over two hours ago. I stared at the phone again, but walked to the door to pull it open.
Someone I didn’t recognize stood on the other side of the door.
She was holding a badge.
“Doctor Sebastian Mederos?”
“That’s me.”
She put the badge back on her belt. “I’m Detective Lily Haden. You need to come down to the station.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, sir, we need to speak to you.”
I stared at her. There was a sinking feeling in my gut. “Let me get my bag and call my wife.”
“I’m going to ask you not to call her right now.”
I was halfway across reception, and jerked my head back to stare at her. The woman standing there seemed to be a blank. But her eyes…
“Oh, God, no…”
She leapt forward to keep me from falling.
…Vance pointed at the woman and two young children there. “My sister-in-law. Her children, my niece and nephew. Angelicci. Two of them. Who will never, ever know what they could have been. The Zhadanjir sliced their throats while their mother watched, and then sliced hers and raped her while she died.”
The breath escaped the woman’s breast slowly. “They murdered angelicci.”
“Yes. And they will try to find and turn their Versilange, to grow their ranks.” He looked at her, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I tried.”
The Devil himself stood behind her and looked down at him.
“They were judged innocent,” he said, his voice smoky and rough but not unkind. “They are safe and cared for in Elysium. Once this is over, he will be able to visit them all there without penalty.”
“He will not forgive me for this.”…
“Oh, God.”
I threw up.
Lily
Blood.
There was so much blood.
Three people had bled out in this room, their hearts still beating as the precious fluid was pumped out of the veins that had been slashed open.
A mother had watched her children die.
A mother had died.
For no other reason than she was married to Sebastian Mederos. She didn’t know about the feud he was born into. She didn’t know the secrets his mind harbored. She didn’t know anything other than she loved him, and had probably died weeping that she hadn’t been able to protect his children.
“Jesus,” the assistant medical examiner whispered. “Complete exsanguination?”
“Don’t step on anything,” I whispered. “Get your damn booties on, you idiot. Your shoes will be soaked through.”
The blood on this floor was more than just blood, though. It was angelicci blood, sacred blood. Powerful. Once the newest assistant was out, I could take the stupid booties and burn them properly. I’d have to call in my other crew to handle the cleanup in the house. I didn’t want just anyone marching through this place where these children had died.
“Shit, Detective, what happened in here?” He looked around, and saw the room as I had when I first walked in earlier in the day.
There was blood on the walls, spatter on the ceiling, the mattress, the rug, probably even floorboards were soaked. It was not the worst thing I had ever seen, but it was utterly heartbreaking.
Two young children, just three and six, throats cut. The mother was raped and murdered. They weren’t entirely sure how it went down, but I knew.
She had watched her children die, then they cut her throat and raped while she bled out. Disgusting Zhadanjir.
I knew they were going to start ramping up their campaign of terror. I didn’t think they would take it out on an innocent woman and her two angelicci.
Glancing over at the assistant ME, I sighed. “Did you read the report?”
“Detective, it’s three a.m. the night after my best friend’s wedding. I’m glad I’m able to move at all. I didn’t have time or the ability to read anything.”
“Okay, that’s a fair excuse” I launched into the explanation of what had happened and he was distraught. Not that we showed it much, even to each other. Big city cops were used to a certain level of gore. MEs were trained to not react to things like this.
The guy let out a breath. “Well, fuck.”
“That’s a good way
to put it,” I answered. “What’s your name again, kid?”
He canted his head and stared at me. “It’s Doctor Reid Sadowski, thanks.”
I shook my head. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six,” he answered.
“Oh, a Doogie Howser.”
“A what?”
“Fuck off,” I griped, then saw him laughing.
He turned and looked around for the officers that were assigned to the room, and any other personnel hanging around. He stepped up next to me close, and dropped his voice.
“Well, I tell people I’m twenty-six, Lady Hades.”
I snapped my head around. “What?”
He grinned, and a spark of white fire danced through his eyes. “I didn’t expect you’d recognized an Elysian. You’ve been gone a long time.”
I was quiet. “Why are you here?”
“Angelicci,” he said. “Zhadanjir rek’cherade. Well, that and I’m actually the assistant medical examiner.”
The darkest ones be damned eternally. So this whippersnapper was on our side. I’d give him the benefit of the doubt for now, and speak to my husband when I could see him again.
Turning my attention back to the present, I sighed. “It all has to be burned. And not just in any fire.”
He nodded. “You’re able to do that?”
“I’ll give the CS techs about a week and then have it taken care of.” I nodded.
“Did you know they were angelicci?”
Shaking my head, I glanced around the room. “I had no idea. I was told later. They are the niece and nephew of a friend.”
“They’re…”
“Safe,” I answered. “Cared for.”
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