Bad Habits
A Dark Anthology
Yolanda Olson
Dani René
Jo-Anne Joseph
Ally Vance
Murphy Wallace
Emery LeeAnn
Petra J. Knox
Copyright © 2020 by Yolanda Olson, Dani René, Jo-Anne Joseph, Ally Vance, Murphy Wallace, Emery LeeAnn, Petra J. Knox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
I. Righteous
Prologue
Kahn
Maeve
Kahn
Maeve
Kahn
Maeve
Kahn
Maeve
Maeve
Kahn
About Dani
II. Entropy
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
About Petra
Also by Petra J. Knox
III. Oblation
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About Jo-Anne
Also by Jo-Anne Joseph
IV. Indolence
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
About Ally
Also by Ally Vance
V. Sufferance
Prologue
Suri
Suri
Suri
Father Stone
Suri
Father Stone
Suri
About Murphy
Also by Murphy wallace
VI. Impudence
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About Emery
Also by Emery LeeAnn
VII. Nefarious
WARNING
A Prayer Under Pressure
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About Yolanda
Also by Yolanda Olson
Righteous
Dani René
Chastity
Refraining from any sexual conduct or romantic relationships.
Blurb
From a young age I learned to pray.
But all those words were nothing more than whispers to the darkness.
I’m convinced I’m going to Hell, it’s where I belong.
Until the stranger walks in and steals a kiss.
Twisted and tarnished, my virtue is long gone.
Chasity is nothing more than a broken promise.
I may look like a good girl, but I’m far from righteous.
Prologue
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Amen
It’s dark. It’s always dark when bad things happen. But I close my eyes and pray. Mommy says praying is good, and the man in the clouds will look after me. So, I do it every night. It’s cold tonight, and I don’t know when Mommy will come home. I know I’ll hear her when the door opens and closes. She’s loud sometimes. She talks to her friends.
There are always other people in our house as well. They give Mommy and my stepdaddy happy juice to make them smile. I like when my mommy smiles. Daddy, who is actually my stepdad, promised to take me to the park today, but he didn’t come home yet. It’s dark out since it’s bedtime. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.
I don’t understand grownups. They’re confusing when they say one thing and do another. I thought they had to keep their promises, to do things they said they’d do. But they don’t.
My friend at school promises to bring me candy, and she always does. Maybe when you grow up, you don’t have to keep promises, but I don’t like that. It’s rude. I will always keep mine, even when I’m older.
Rolling over, I hold Torrance, my teddy bear. He’s squished in my arms, but even with his fur, he doesn’t help the cold go away. I wonder if Mommy turned the heating off. I should go look.
Normally, when Mommy and Daddy have friends over, I don’t leave my room. She told me not to ever open my door when she has them here, and I’ve obeyed. But it’s cold. Very cold.
Shoving the blankets off me, I stand and head to my bedroom door. It’s so quiet, I figure it’s safe to walk into the living room where the switches for the heating are.
With a creak, I open my bedroom door and pad into the messy living room where there are two sofas, an armchair that Daddy likes to sit in, and a table with bottles and glasses still on it from two nights ago.
A soft sound startles me, coming from Mommy and Daddy’s room. Confusion swirls in my sleepy mind, wondering what that noise could be since Mommy hasn't come home yet. At least, I don't think she did? I make my way through the living room and down the hall to where their room is. The door is open, just a crack, and I peek through the space.
There are candles on the vanity and a large mirror overlooking the bed. I watch as a woman with dark hair sits on her knees. Her eyes are blindfolded and her breasts are bouncy. She looks like she’s smiling. Mommy is sitting in a chair, her eyes on the woman, and then another body appears.
Daddy is home, too, he's under the woman. He’s naked, his chest is hairy, and his stomach is fat, squishing itself against the pretty woman. She looks like my babysitter, the girl who lives down the road.
Her hands are tied behind her back, and Daddy is telling her things. He's saying words I’m not allowed to use. My eyes widen when I see Mommy move behind the girl. She has something in her hand, I can’t tell what it is until she moves her arm, and that’s when the candlelight shines on something metal.
Suddenly, there’s blood everywhere. My hand flies to my mouth, holding in the scream that’s bobbing in my throat. The scene is blurry, I’m crying. I feel the wetness of the tears streaking down my cheeks.
Daddy smiles at
Mommy. He tells her she’s good. He tells her other nasty words too. Things only adults say.
I turn and race back to my bedroom, shutting the door so they don’t realize I saw them. I’m under the blankets, clutching onto Torrance when I hear my bedroom door click open.
“She’s asleep,” Mommy’s voice whispers.
“I must've imagined her there,” Daddy says, also in a hushed tone. “We better get cleaned up, my dick is still hard, and I want to finish inside that whore.”
My eyes are shut so tight, white blinks behind my lids as if there are lights flashing on and off. A click of the door sounds so loud, it booms in my ears. My chest aches as my heart attacks my ribs.
I lie in bed silently and pray. I pray like I’ve never prayed before.
I want to be good.
I want to go to Heaven.
But after what I saw, I don’t know if I’ll ever be let in.
Kahn
Our Father, Who Art in Heaven
The rain splatters from the heavy clouds as I watch her, Maeve Bianchi. Long dark hair hangs down her back, reaching her tailbone. She’s dressed in black again. Part of the uniform, I suppose. I ponder this for a moment before I edge closer. Sweet perfume wafts from her, and it makes my mouth water. I think about what it would take to grab her right now and steal her away. I could take her to the place I’ve lived all my life. She’d fit in perfectly.
I’m close.
Almost there.
But then she stops and glances over her shoulder, forcing me to slip back into the shadows. It’s been a few months since I started following her. It started after our first kiss. I'd come here to find her, and I definitely did. She'd been leaving the convent grounds, jogging toward the park, and I couldn’t stop my feet from tracing her steps.
I wonder why she’s allowed off the grounds, how she’s able to do as she wishes when the other girls are locked up tight.
Since I first laid my eyes on her, I've had this innate reaction to her. As if she has tethered me to her and is tugging me along. Each time I get near, I lose my nerve. I’ve never been afraid of a woman before, but there’s something about her. Something dark that resides inside her. It’s etched in the ink that adorns her ribs. A large tree of life, but with a macabre twist. There are skeletons and ghouls under the tree, with a rosary slung around the branches.
She moves faster down the road, and I wonder if she spotted me. I doubt she’d still be walking; she’d certainly be running if she had. I shouldn’t do this, but I’m in too deep now. My phone vibrates in my pocket, thankfully I’ve had it on silent since I perched myself across the road from the convent.
I don’t pull it out now. I’m too close to her to even consider taking a fucking call. It stops and restarts. Frustration burns through every fiber of my being. I want to keep going. I need to. But I know if I don’t answer this call there’ll be hell to pay.
I pull out my cell. Swiping my thumb along the screen, the facial recognition unlocks the device and I press the phone to my ear.
“What?”
“Well, hello to you too,” Fletcher’s voice comes through the line. My partner is an asshole. I call him a partner, but he’s more like a fuckin’ lackey at this point. Working for the big man upstairs isn’t easy, and I know he’s wanting to get out into the field with me.
“You’ve just fucked up my mark,” I bite out in evident frustration at the interruption, earning me a chuckle in response. Asshole.
“That pretty piece of ass you’ve been jerking off to? You know she’s married to the cross, right?” Another guffaw from him makes my hackles rise. I’ve told him she’s special. There’s something about her, and I need her to join us.
“Fuck off, man. What do you want?” I grit out, tugging my packet of smokes from the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Popping one between my lips, I flick the lighter and inhale a lungful of calming smoke.
“I got a job for you, not too far from where you are right now,” he informs me. “Asshole dealing on Heaven’s turf.”
Fuck.
“Yeah, okay. Send me the deets and I’ll head out.” I hang up before he can ask anything more about the subject of my obsession. Turning, I head back to my bike and hop on, starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. I’ll be back tomorrow. She’ll be there once again, and I’ll be jerking my cock thinking about how tight her perfect cunt must be.
The information from Fletcher comes when I stop for gas about two miles down the road. I punch the address into my GPS, and I make my way toward the asshole who thinks he’s God. He isn’t. I know God, met the fucker when he hired me, and now I’m one of his best angels.
When I pull up to the house in question, I note one car in the drive and a guy sitting on the porch. Security? I think not. It doesn’t take me long to pull out my 9mm and stalk up to the little shit who may just piss himself when his gaze locks on mine.
“Who are you? Are you here to—”
I don’t wait. The bullet is between his eyes before he has time to utter another word. Stepping over his body, I lift a black boot and kick the door from its hinges. A squeal of surprise comes from inside, and I notice a pretty little blonde racing from the kitchen into the living room.
I turn to where she was headed and find the man I need. He’s high, fucked out of his skull. “Hey man,” he grins, holding up a joint, pulling in deep before exhaling a cloud of sickly smoke.
One thing I don’t do—drugs.
Give me a good Scotch or a beer any day, but this is the shit that puts you in the ground fast. I don’t respond. Instead, I lift the glass coffee table, turning it on its side, sending all his paraphernalia flying through the air.
“What the fuck, man?” he bites out, suddenly more awake than he had been. He’s on his feet, but I’m taller. I’m more fucking dangerous than some prick knocked off his head on weed.
With my cigarette perched between my lips, I smile, lift the gun, point it right at his crotch, and utter, “God sends his regards,” before I pull the trigger.
The asshole drops to his knees, his hands cupping what’s left of his crown jewels. The blonde pops up from behind the sofa with a screech that could wake the fuckin’ dead. I should leave her be, but she’s seen my face. I should’ve covered up. Fuck it. I point the barrel at her and pull the trigger. No use leaving witnesses. They only cause shit later on.
Another glance at my mark, and I take in the slump of his shoulders. Just to make sure I’ve done my job, I put another burning hot piece of metal in his head. His crumpled form is evidence enough.
Pulling my cell out, I tap the camera and hit the button. Once the photo is sent to Fletch, I head out of the house and down to my bike. I thought there’d be people in the street after hearing the gunshot, but I guess they’re all hiding indoors.
I would too.
The rumble of my engine is music to my ears, and I tug my face mask up to cover my mouth and nose before I pull onto the road and head down toward my cabin.
It’s time to get away for a couple of days. I’ve always liked being in the woods, where it’s quiet. Where my mind can focus on what it needs to recoup. With the work I do, I can’t afford to be distracted.
And that’s where my little problem comes in.
Maeve Bianchi.
A pretty Catholic nun who I should never have met. Two months ago, I walked into the convent and stole a crucifix for the boss, but before I could get away, Maeve walked smack bang into me.
I recall her pretty smile when she looked up at me. My dark eyes, black hair, and inked skin must’ve been a shock for her. A good one, apparently, because she offered me a cup of tea.
I don’t drink tea.
But I did take something else, I stole her lips and kissed her until she whimpered. Who knew a nun could kiss like a whore? I turned around and walked out without a glance over my shoulder.
Each time I follow my little nun, I think of that kiss. Perhaps one day I’ll get the boss man to hire her. With those sult
ry eyes and that pouty mouth, she’ll certainly be as deadly as I am.
I pass a sign on the side of the highway telling me I have another few hundred miles to go. I don’t care, the further out of town I can get, the better. Wind whips at my face, but I don’t slow down. If anything, I speed up.
Maeve
Hallowed be Thy Name
Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology Page 1
