The sound of the front door rattles through me, and I wonder what’s going to happen tonight. In the dark, silence is more welcome than the sounds of my parents coming home.
A girly giggle filters through the house, and I shut my eyes so tight, focusing on the way the cotton sheets feel against my skin. I want to cry, but if Daddy or Mommy walk into my room, I know I’ll be in trouble. They don’t like when I’m awake late at night.
Another laugh comes from the living room, and then I hear glasses. Moments later, there’s the smell of smoke, and I inch out of bed. I’m at the door, peeping through the keyhole when I see the girl they’ve got here tonight. She’s sitting beside a man I don’t know.
They’re dressed in expensive clothes. Even though the view is blurry, I can tell. Mainly because Mommy and Daddy don’t wear anything that’s expensive.
They keep up the ruse of being God-fearing people by going to church, praying with the congregation and smiling at everyone as if innocence drenched them in its sickly-sweet fragrance.
“Prayer is important,” I hear Daddy telling them. Maybe they’re getting married, and he’s going to be the pastor. “In this house, we pray all the time. God is good, He brings us blessings when we least expect them.”
“I’m thankful to have found your parish. My daughter has been in so much trouble, so when we moved here, just this morning, the first thing I wanted to do was meet with you.” The stranger tells Daddy. That’s when I notice how young the girl beside him is.
I watch in awe as he nudges her and she rises. Wearing a long black dress, she smiles before she slips the material down. It falls to the ground, and she’s now standing in only a pair of panties.
“Yes, she’s perfect,” I hear Daddy tell the man. “What do you think, Patricia?” Daddy asks my mom.
“I think she’ll do nicely. Come here,” Mommy tells the girl, and then I lose sight of her. Mommy must be sitting closer to the living room window because it’s not in line with the hallway.
“I’m glad,” the man says before standing up and shrugging on a jacket. He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a gulp, emptying it of whatever was in there. Daddy takes him to the door, which I can see from where I am. Suddenly, Dad glances over his shoulder as if he can see me, causing me to stumble backward, falling onto my butt.
I scurry back to my bed, shoving myself under the covers and curling into a ball, praying to God that he doesn’t come to check on me. Does he know I saw them? I mumble my prayers, asking for them not to come to me. Not to make sure I’m sound asleep because I know I can’t pretend with my heart racketing in my chest, thudding in my ears.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly afraid they will kill me. When I first saw them hurt that girl, I realized something was truly wrong with my family. That was a week ago. Tonight, they have another girl here, one whose daddy left her in the care of my parents. A girl who I know will never see her daddy again.
But then again, maybe he planned it. Maybe that’s what he brought her here for. I swallow the lump of fear in my throat before I start counting.
Prayer no longer helps.
I close my eyes and focus on counting. I think of all the years I’ve been alive, fifteen. It’s the numbers that make my mind calm and help me to fall asleep.
But as much as I shove those holy words away, they’re burned in my mind. Always there. Always watching. Just like God himself.
Temptation is a weakness.
It’s been my weakness since I was fifteen. It runs through my blood and ignites my veins. At first, I thought I was broken, but I’m certainly far from it. Walking into the rectory, I smile when I find it empty.
The scent of cologne is heavy in the air, and I know he’s here. Father Dominic is someone who’s given me what I need while I’ve been locked in seclusion. I came to Our Lady of Heavenly Hope Convent when I was eighteen. I signed up to be a good girl, but since I’ve been here, I’ve been far from that.
I inherited my cravings from my mother. She was certainly an influence on me, showing me how to use my womanly wiles to tempt secrets from the men I come across. Nobody is safe from me.
And even though I spend my time in the sanctuary of the convent, the need never abates. Temptation is always there. It’s been my downfall since my first orgasm at the fingers of a man I now can’t recall.
Nuns are meant to be virgins, they’re supposed to be married to God, but I’m so broken, I can’t keep my body to myself. But I submit to Father Dominic because he allows me privileges not many of the other girls have. The physical has nothing to do with emotions, the intimate trysts in the buildings of the convent are payments. But what I can’t stop thinking about is the man who I kissed. He has consumed my thoughts.
It’s been two long weeks since he stole a kiss. But if I am completely honest, he didn’t steal a thing, I gave it to him freely. And I admit that if he had wanted more, I would’ve given it to him as well. There was something about him, something that had my heart thudding, banging against my ribs.
My panties had been drenched at the feel of his tongue against mine. The way his hands explored my curves. He wanted me as much as I needed him.
Humans are weak creatures. They fall into the trap of confession and sin so easily. Each Sunday, our confession box is filled with repenting parishioners, but none of them keep to their prayers because the moment they step out of church, they sin.
And that’s what I learned early on in life… sin is the only way to live a life free of regret.
Shadows dance across the pews this morning as I make my way through the church to the front where I have to set up the candles. To be honest, the space is stunning with stained-glass windows that colorful streams of light shimmer through. But there’s also a darkness that hovers over the convent.
It makes me nervous. It reminds me of the night I witnessed my parents kill someone. That wasn’t the only time I was shaking from fear. I recall a few things I saw after that which have stayed with me.
Before that first night, I had no idea what my parents did. I was clueless, and as an eight-year-old girl, I wanted to believe my mind was playing tricks on me. Yet each night I snuck out, I saw even more atrocities.
I spent my young life hiding in the dark because as soon as I opened my eyes, I was lost to the images of violence and blood that filled our home. The small town we lived in loved my stepfather, the local pastor. My mother, who was his secretary and assistant in the church, was as guilty as he was.
I learned about his penchant for "curing" women, men, girls and boys of their sins. Initially, I assumed he was abducting people from town, but I later learned that each face I saw distorted in pain belonged to someone who had come to him freely.
He used sex as if it were medication, as if it were a holy remedy to the darkness that swirled through our town.
We finally moved, and I shudder now to think of what could be found in the dirt beneath our house. Bodies. Parts of girls who were there solely for my parent’s amusement.
When I ran, I stumbled upon the convent. I was taken in by Sister Mary Margaret, and she’s been good to me. I don’t talk to the other women here because I don’t need friends. What I do need, however, is a visit with Father Dominic.
“There you are,” he says with a smirk that turns me into a quivering girl. He’s almost forty, handsome, tanned, and his black hair and dark eyes seem almost sinister in the house of the Lord.
“I thought of you all night,” I tell him as I close the distance between us. His hands automatically go to my hips, tugging me forward. The long black uniform I wear is meant to cover what one doesn’t want seen. But the moment we fall into his office, I lift the long hemline and throw it over my head.
My lace panties and bra are out of place for a convent, but I have my ways of ensuring I get what I need. And the gift from Father Dominic fits me perfectly.
His gaze burns me as it trails over my body. The heat of him is intoxicating. He turns and heads to his desk,
settling in the large, leather chair. He beckons me with a crook of his finger, and I lock the door before heading toward him.
By the time I’m settled on the edge of his desk, my legs splayed with my feet on either armrest of his chair, I’m already soaking the pretty panties he bought me.
“This is pretty,” he says, tugging at the wet material. “But we won’t need it for today’s prayers.” He tugs the underwear from me, sliding it down my thighs and fisting it in his hand. He brings them up to his nose, inhaling my fragrance before groaning as if pleasure has taken hold of him.
I came to the convent to ask for salvation for what my parents did. To pray, so that somehow, I won't end up going to Hell. But I soon realized there was no way I would be saved, and that’s when I gave in to the sins of the flesh.
Dominic’s mouth is on my cunt, licking and tasting me. His tongue darts into my entrance, and I moan as I feel my nipples harden from him tweaking them painfully. The pleasure takes hold of me, and my eyes fall closed.
But it’s not Father Dominic I see between my thighs, in my mind, it’s him. The stranger with the goddamned inked skin and full lips. The one who took not only a kiss but stole my breath along with it. When he kissed me, I felt things I never thought I would. That one emotion I've never allowed myself to feel.
“Our Father,” I pray as Dominic’s talented mouth starts an ache swirling low in my belly. “Who art in Heaven.”
“He’s not listening,” the female voice comes from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to find Sister Alexia strolling in from the attached bathroom.
I smile as I continue, “Hallowed be thy name.”
She makes her way toward me, dragging her tongue along my lips before pulling the bottom one into her mouth. Her teeth graze my skin, biting down hard as Dominic does the same to my clit which sends me spiraling into the darkness.
Alexia’s red hair and green eyes are shining wildly in the dimly lit office. She looks like a devil in an angel’s skin. Perhaps she is. Maybe she’s the devil incarnate.
Alexia is the opposite of me; she won’t take a man inside her, but she does toy with the girls. A select few sisters have felt her tongue and fingers. The thing about her, though, is that she’s angelic looking. With her fiery hair and her luminous, gemstone eyes, she’s the perfect woman.
“He’s falling in love with you,” she whispers in my ear, and we both look down at Dominic whose mouth is glistening with my arousal, his cock already jutting from his black slacks. “And if you deep throat, he’ll let you into Heaven,” she smirks salaciously, causing me to shiver. As much as I consider her words, I know she’s just trying to taunt me.
“You’re so crass,” I retort, causing a tinkling giggle to fall from her lips. Rising from my seated position, I wrap the rosary around my left hand and settle it over the lap of Father Dominic while Alexia kisses me, teasing my nipples with her thumb and index finger.
“Tell me, Maeve, did you come to this convent to find God, or were you trying to escape something?” Her question stills me for a moment.
How would she even know about me running away from home?
“That’s what I thought. Now, tell me about the man you were locking lips with because he looked delicious.” She leans forward, and I half expect her to pull out a smoke and a bottle of wine while she stares at me.
Dominic’s hands tighten on my hips as if he’s trying to lay claim without any words. His fingers digging into my flesh as he moves me, his cock deep inside my cunt. I feel it thicken and throb, and I can’t help but whimper at how much he stretches me.
Alexia’s words burn me because I have a feeling that man would’ve been my savior. Deep in my gut, I have a feeling he would’ve taken me from this place and shown me a real life. I can’t explain why, perhaps it was how he looked at me, or the way his lips molded to mine and his hands held onto my hips. My mind flits back to him for a moment, just a short one, before I shake my head.
“I don’t know who he was,” I tell her honestly. Remembering his lips on mine sends heat racing through me, and I know I’m blushing because I can feel the heat burning my cheeks.
“Fuck,” Dominic grits out through clenched teeth. “Your cunt is so tight around me, are you thinking about having two cocks inside you?” There’s an evil glint in his eyes when he says this, and I can’t deny, the idea has my body pulsing wildly.
“Bet you wouldn’t be sending him packing if he walked in here again,” Alexia winks playfully. Dominic moves my hips faster, pulling me down on his dick harder and deeper. I can’t think straight, my mind is awash with pleasure as he brings me right to the edge and I cry out.
The high that sent me into the darkness slowly drops, inch by inch, and I find myself looking into the dark eyes of Dominic. His face is beautiful, but I know this will never last.
I cast a glance at Alexia who smiles, but the sadness etched in her deep green eyes tightens a fist around my heart. I'm sure she has stories to tell, darkness that she’s seen, and I wonder briefly if she’s as broken as I am.
Is her heartache as brutal as mine?
I don’t know, and I’ve never asked. Over time, I’ve learned that if you want to get to know someone, you don't just listen to their words, you listen to how they utter certain sentences and how much pain is laced in their responses.
I move quickly, lifting myself from Father Dominic’s lap. Once I’m dressed, I turn to her and offer a smile.
“If he does walk in here again, Maeve… would you fuck him?” Something about how she speaks gives away a hint that she wants him to return. Perhaps she wants to watch me take him deep, just like she enjoys watching me with Father Dominic.
“I don’t know.” I answer, before gripping the doorknob and twisting it. “All I know is that if he did walk in here again, I may just run away if he offered me the chance.”
I leave Dominic's office to ponder my response and step out into the bright sunlight. Even though we’re heading into the coolness of winter, the day is warm and bright.
I wasn’t lying when I just said that I would run. I glance down, taking in the habit that I wear every day. It’s not who I am, but what I’ve become.
I need to leave here.
One way or another.
Kahn
Thy Kingdom come;
The cabin is silent when I open my eyes. I crashed the moment I made sure the fire was going last night. Even though I didn’t make it to the bedroom, I slept comfortably on the sofa. The fucker is huge, almost as wide as a king-sized bed.
The cabin is made of lightly colored wooden logs, turning the walls into a pattern of smooth, varnished opulence. The floors are decked in tiles that the original owners imported from Italy. The windows, double glazed and perfectly symmetrical, offer views of the Canadian mountains. A landscape made for an artist.
I’m not sure how I got so lucky to buy this place, but I’m thankful I stumbled upon it in my drunken state. I had wanted to hide away, driving up to the mountains in my truck. And when I arrived, I found this heaven. I found more than that too. That first weekend I spent here, I bumped into the man who offered me a second chance at life.
Pushing to my feet, I head into the kitchen and flick on the gas stove. When I bought this place, I fixed it up, and it was my sanctuary long after the pain I’d been through over losing Sophie. She was the second woman I lost in my lifetime, and I vowed never to lose another. So, I focused on work rather than having a relationship.
When they found Sophie’s body at the bottom of the lake, I lost my mind. She was dead before the asshole threw her body into the water. The other thing that sent me reeling was knowing she was pregnant. She hadn’t told me yet, but I found the test in our trash can. That night, I would’ve found out I was going to be a father, but instead, I was told the woman I was going to marry was dead along with the baby in her belly.
Even though it wasn’t grown yet, I felt that loss like a hole to the chest. It was as if someone had carved out my hea
rt and left it on a platter to be feasted on by the ravens. When I got here, I ended up hunting every day. One particular day, I was so focused on a deer I'd just spotted, that I didn’t notice the three men in the woods. That’s when I met him.
The man we call God.
A huge fucker, over six foot seven. Built like a goddamned brick shit house. And as evil as they come. He noticed my gun, and we got to talking about hunting. Turns out he was here with his team of two.
I don’t believe in fate and all that shit, but meeting him was my destiny. He offered me a job, sending me out to find some drug lord and bring back his eyes. I returned with his eyes, tongue, and ears. God chuckled and told me I was special.
Now, I’m his second in command.
I have a team of assassins under me, two men and two women, and then there’s Fletch. Each of them answer to me, but they obey God above all else. I chuckle at the analogy.
The kettle screeches loudly, and I flick off the gas before pouring the steaming liquid into the coffee pot. I don’t stay up here as often as I’d like, so the amenities aren’t as modern as my apartment in the city.
My phone pings on the counter, and I ignore it for a moment to sip my black coffee. The burn on my tongue is welcome, and the bitter taste makes me groan in pleasure.
Another ping comes through a second later, and then another. When I pick up the device, I find three messages from Fletch.
Big man wants to see you
Dude, shits about to hit the fan
I think it’s best you come in
Fuck.
I open the last called number and hit dial. Pressing the phone to my ear, I listen to the rings. One. Two. Three. Four.
“Hey man,” Fletch answers in his happy tone.
“What’s going on?” I question, not bothering with greetings. He knows me far too well to think I’m going to chit chat after those messages.
“You know Boss was looking into those disappearances?” he asks in a hushed tone which perks up my attention.
Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology Page 2