Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  “That is how it is supposed to be, Celeste. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  Chapter Seven

  Celeste

  Last night felt like a dream. I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Where Father Thomas is brutal, using my body in ways that hurt and humiliate, Priest is gentle, giving me as much as he takes. I touch my lips as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, still feeling his kisses. My body aches from the beating, but I have never felt more alive. The memory of every one of his touches makes my insides flip. This feeling scares me because I’m afraid it’ll be taken away. If that bitch Concessa finds out, I’ll be beaten black and blue for even looking in Priest's direction. I step out of my room and come face to face with the bitch herself.

  “Sleeping in, are we?’ she glares at me, squinting her eyes.

  “I felt unwell, Sister.” I lie, refusing to meet her scrutinizing gaze.

  “Move along,” she commands. I close my door and rush down the corridor, the good Sister following a few inches behind me.

  After the hours, I make my way to the garden. When I reach the tree, strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. I whip my head around and let out a gasp when I see Priest. He's freshly showered and smelling like soap, and something else, something musky that makes me heady. He places a finger to his lips, looking behind me. His strong fingers grip my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His kiss is vicious and leaves me gasping for breath. This is nothing like last night. He quickly spins me around, fumbling with my habit, as he pulls it up. He tugs my panties down, and I feel the morning chill on my ass.

  “I know you’re scared. But I need to feel you,” he whispers. My heart lurches in my throat as he lines his erection between my legs.

  “Priest, no, we can’t, not here.” It’s no use protesting as he drives his cock roughly inside me. His fingers dig into my flesh, and he groans as he starts to move in and out of me expertly. I hold onto the tree, my nails digging into the bark. His fingers burn my skin, the heat that resides inside of me threatens to combust, destroying us both. I feel myself climbing, losing myself in the sensation of him inside me. His hips slam against me, and I’m free falling over the edge. I see stars when I come, guttural sounds leaving his lips as he thrusts deeper into me. I’m out of breath, struggling to feel my legs and come down to earth after such a high. I feel Priests release drip down my legs. Voices have me pushing against him. Straightening my habit, I rush away from where he stands pulling up his sweatpants.

  “Ah, there you are, Celeste.” Father Thomas peers down at me. I feel my face flush.

  “Father. You’re up early.” I say still very much out of breath.

  He looks behind me, and I freeze, turning. I let out a breath when I notice that Priest is gone.

  “Something the matter?” His jaw clenches.

  “Oh, not at all, Father. Can I be of service?” I force a smile.

  “I’m trying to locate, Mr. Michaels. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

  I clear my throat. “Unfortunately no, Father. It is rather early for the residents.”

  His lips purse into a thin line. “Perhaps. I’ll let you get to your prayers then.”

  I nod, turning and making my way back to the tree. I get down on my knees and clasp my hands in prayer. I was lucky this time. This thing, whatever it is with Priest and I, will have to come to an end, for both of our sakes. What Father Thomas did to be last night is only the tip of the iceberg. I know what he is capable of. I cannot let Priest deter me from my path. But is it not the Lord who said that we should give of ourselves, joyfully? I push that thought to the back of my mind.

  “Confess and be cleansed, child.”

  The woman’s eyes dart around the church when she hears Father Thomas speaking, then back to me. For the first time in the years I’ve been helping Father Thomas, I feel out of it. This woman is like a caged animal, nervous, shrinking into herself in fear of what’s to come. I cannot help but see the similarity in her plight and mine. Hannah is thirty years old, recently widowed, with no children.

  “Forgive me, Father – f-f-for I have sinned.” she stutters. “This is my first confession.”

  It’ll be your last, I want to warn her.

  “Go on, child.” Father Thomas steps out of the shadows and sits beside Hannah. He places a hand on her back, rubbing small circles. I am merely a witness to this. I seethe at the way he looks at her. It’s been a week since the last time he hurt me. I have kept my distance from both him and Priest. I had to beg Priest to respect that I needed some space. I needed to heal, physically and spiritually.

  “My husband was having an affair. The woman he was with fell pregnant.” she looks down at her own flat stomach when she says it. “I couldn’t have children, I got an infection when I was a teenager. It…” she trails off, swiping at her cheeks. “I can’t have children. I never will. And Andrew, he was going to have that, with another woman.” she looks up at Father Thomas who nods. “I just wanted it all to go away, to have my husband again. I heard him on the phone, telling her he was going to leave me.”

  She starts to sob, her small body shaking. “Forgive me, please…”

  Father Thomas stands, walks to the altar, and comes back with what I assume is a cup of wine from Holy Communion. “Drink, Hannah.” he tells her.

  She takes the cup with shaky hands, looking at me again with the same wild eyes. She drinks it greedily, as if she’s been parched her entire life.

  Father Thomas says a prayer, his hand resting on her head. “O Lord, we ask for mercy for our offences. Spare O God, this child who confesses her faults. Restore her, according to your promises ...”

  Hannah sobs, no doubt hanging onto those words.

  “I feel light-headed,” she says, placing a hand to her temple. Father Thomas wraps an arm over her shoulder, and in a few seconds, her head is lulling against his chest. He effortlessly carries her limp form to the altar where he places her down so carefully you’d swear he cared, that he wasn’t about to ravage her body until her very soul is drained from her. He waves me over, and I take slow steps toward him.

  “Prepare her.” he instructs, walking toward the room we usually use as a changing room for baptisms. I stand over her body, her blonde hair splayed around her head like a halo. I slowly remove the blouse she’s wearing, followed by her bra. Her skin is pale, soft to the touch. I remove her skirt and tug off her panties. I look down at her and wonder for the first time whether we are the monsters here. Has my lust for this man blinded my reality? Father Thomas returns, a robe draped over his intimidating frame.

  “Kneel, Celeste. Pray that Hannah’s soul is welcomed by the Lord.” He looks down at her, desire burning in his eyes. I do as I’m told while Father Thomas tugs a limp Hannah off the altar, positioning her on her stomach. He lets his robe fall then rams his cock into her ass with no remorse. He has a dark expression on his face, the same darkens I see when he looks at me. “Say a prayer.” he pants, prompting me start reciting Hail Marys. His thrusts are so vicious I can’t watch. “Watch.” he demands like a mind reader.

  He carries her back to the stone slab, spreading her legs in a way I can only describe as brutal. He moves between her legs, one hand pressed against her neck as he fucks her with such force I feel my throat constrict. He denies me his body but gives it freely to this sinner. Tears slip from my eyes. He growls a release that shakes me to the core. When he’s done, he wraps his robe around himself, a serene look on his face. I watch Hannah, realizing that her chest is no longer moving. Father Thomas calls the two caretakers who lick their lips when they look at the woman. “Take her away.”

  I stand and scurry out of the church into the cool night. I make my way to the garden and fall to my knees, my vision blurry. It is in this very garden that Father Thomas took my soul, warping it into the vile creature I am now. I had lain staring up at the starry sky, much like the one I’m looking at right now, as he took my virtue with as much force and brut
ality as he did Hannah. I was only a child back then. My sixteen year old self was smitten by the only man I’d ever known. I'd believed him when he told me he would cleanse me of my dark thoughts. That God himself would rip my life from me if I didn’t let him.

  The silhouettes of the caretakers have me on my feet. They should be carrying Hannah to the pit where they take everyone else in. They know the rules, add gasoline and let her burn. The old well has served Father Thomas well over the years. I'm confused to see them take her into the shed instead. I know that I should go back inside, but my feet carry themselves over to the shed's window. One of the men stands guard at the door, while the other has his way with Hannah. I should be appalled by this act of depravity, but I’m not. I’ve fallen too far my sense of morality is warped.

  Instead of going back to my room, I walk to the cottage on the grounds where there is a candle burning in the window. I turn the doorknob and enter, immediately spotting Priest who lies in bed wearing only a pair of boxers. His gaze as I remove my clothing, dropping it at the door. I walk toward him, standing at the foot of his bed. “Fuck him out of me.” I tell him. He stands and walks behind me. I lean my head against his muscular body, his erection already pressing into my ass. He grabs my breasts, kneading them. I moan at the way his touch ignites something I have never felt before. “I need more.” I say breathlessly.

  “Get on all fours.” he commands, and I climb up on the bed to do as I’m told. He slips a finger inside me, and I push myself back, forcing it deeper. He thrusts another finger into me, and I cry out. He pulls his fingers out of me then slams his cock into me. He grabs my hair, pulling my head back, using it as leverage as he fucks me. This isn’t like Father Thomas, this isn’t like the men I fuck so Father Thomas gets paid. This is raw and carnal and right. I come with such force, I’m a quivering mess. He climbs into bed and pulls me on top of him. I lower myself onto his cock, moaning at how completely he fills me. “Oh, Priest, you feel so good.”

  “I want you like this, like the first time I saw you.” He pinches both my nipples sending electricity through me. He runs his hands over me, over my scars like they’re beautiful. “You’re perfect.” He tells me, as if he read my mind. I start to move up and down his length, but he grabs my hips, stilling me. Priest starts to lift up his hips thrusting into me so hard I reach an orgasm that has me weeping. He flips us so he’s between my thighs, moving inside me with such gentle precision I feel myself climbing yet again.

  “I’m going to take you away from here, you hear me?” I nod, trying to concentrate on his words, but the feel of him inside me makes it difficult. “Tell me you’ll come with me."

  “Yes.” I groan as his movements become harder, more calculated. There is nothing I can imagine wanting more. A chance to get out of here, maybe live a normal life. But I don’t tell him how afraid I am. How I know that Father Thomas will never let me go. I am his toy. He is the puppet master. I never thought I’d want anything else, until Priest showed up. I look into Priest's eyes, and I try to pour everything into one look. He seals the deal with a kiss that claims my breath as I feel him release inside me. Placing his forehead against mine, he tries to catch his breath. He pulls out and lays beside me before gathering me in his arms. I close my eyes and let the comfort of his embrace chase away the nightmares that I am fighting to keep at bay. When he kisses my hair, I cannot remember a time in my life where anyone was this gentle with me. As I feel myself drifting off, I remember something Mother Superior once said to me. Everyone has a dark side, Celeste, some just don’t show it. But it is the ones who embrace it that truly conquer it.

  Chapter Eight

  Priest

  She is gone when I wake up. I stand and stretch out the kinks in my body. I meant what I said. This place isn’t healthy for either of us. I freshen up, drink some coffee, and make my way to the garden. She kneels, praying quietly to herself. I wait until she’s done before walking over and sitting beside her. I don’t make a move to touch her. I hope that my silence will give her the courage to say whatever she needs to.

  “I was abandoned here, as an infant.” She casts me a sidelong glance. “It is the only home I know. These people, as vile as some of them are, are the only family I have ever had.”

  “This isn’t healthy. It isn’t safe. Sooner or later the cops are gonna come knocking.”

  “I know. And it’s why I’ve decided to go with you, Priest.”

  My heart explodes at her words. “I have a few contacts, it might take me a couple of days, but we’ll leave here.” I slip a hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, then leave her in the garden. It will not be easy, not with my father’s connections, but I have to believe my uncle Benjamin will come through. I dig out my cell phone. I haven’t bothered using it since I arrived here. I switch it on, wait for a signal, and dial my uncle’s number.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he answers.

  “A long and complicated story, but that's not why I’m calling.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I tell him everything, leaving out nothing. He listens, asking for clarity at times.

  “You got yourself in quite a situation, nephew.”

  “Can you help me?” I ask.

  He sighs, and I know that I am asking too much of him. He and my father have not been on speaking terms for a number of years. I’m not the only one who couldn’t tolerate my father’s controlling personality.

  “I will help you. I can have someone drive you to the airport at the end of the week. Send me over a picture of both your passports. If you want to get lost, I’m going to have to get you out of there with new identities. Tickets will be waiting for you at the check-in counter.”

  “Thanks, Ben.” I tell him.

  “Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you’re out of there.”

  I end the call and sit on the bed, my head in my hands. A knock on the door has me standing. I open the door and Sister Mary Concessa stands on the threshold, a satisfied grin on her face. “You have a visitor, Mr. Michaels.”

  I close the door behind me, following the woman with her rigid back to the church office building. I freeze when I spot the uniformed officer through the glass. She turns around, no doubt checking if I am still there. I don’t have many options; if I run I just risk being chased and arrested anyway. I wonder who called the cops? There is no way that my family or Father Thomas would. Both have a lot to lose.

  “You contacted them?” I say when we reach the staircase leading up to the office.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” she lies. I think about Celeste. How will she escape this hell without me? I climb the stairs and approach the officer.

  “Mr. Michaels. I wondered if we might ask you a few questions?”

  “Sure thing, officer.” I motion toward the small table and chairs in the corner of the reception area. The elderly administrator peers at me over her glasses. I smile at her only to be met with a frown.

  “Mr. Michaels, can you tell us where you were on the night of September third?”

  I frown, scratching my head. “Probably at home, officer. It was a couple of months ago, you’re pretty specific. Is there anything in particular you want to know?”

  He sits up straighter in his chair. “We received an anonymous tip that you may have information on a hit and run that happened that night.”

  I cross my arms in front of me. “Doesn’t ring a bell. You should check your sources.” I look over at Sister Mary Concessa who is pretending to busy herself in the reception area. I know she’s listening.

  “If you think of anything, Mr. Michaels, feel free to call the station.” He stands, his eyes scrutinizing me as he hands me a business card.

  “Sure thing.” I extend my hand, taking the card.

  He waves at the Sister as he makes his way to his vehicle.

  I rise and stalk over to where she stands. “That didn’t work out quite as well as you hoped, did it, Mary?” I grin.

  “I h
ave no idea what you mean?” Her face reddens.

  I don’t bother saying anything more. I descend the stairs, starting toward the church building to find Celeste. I know that cop will be snooping around here. Once you give them a bone, they hold on to it for dear life.

  September 3rd

  I know I shouldn’t get behind the wheel after drinking, but I do it anyway. My friend, Kevin, tries to convince me to stay the night, but a guy doesn’t get to score with Olivia Kent every night, and I am not about to let the opportunity pass me by. She hops into the passenger seat of my Aston Martin, turning the music up. Our friends catcall when she slips out of her tank top. It is no surprise that she isn’t wearing a bra. “You coming or what?” she asks.

  I can’t keep my eyes off her tits. I slide into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition. She literally moans when the engine purrs to life. Damn, she is hot. We hit the highway and she leans over the center console to unzip my jeans. The situation escalates pretty quickly, and before I know it, she’s giving me head right here in the car. I can’t concentrate, it feels too good. I don’t notice I’ve moved into the oncoming lane until it’s too late. The last thing I see are headlights as they barrel toward me. I scream, and Olivia sits upright just as my vehicle collides with another. We’re flying around inside the car, and I’m praying to God, to anyone, that she makes it, that I make it, that the other people make it. There is nothing more sobering than that moment in between.

  I woke up in hospital a few hours later, Olivia in the bed next to me. We both made it out with a couple of scratches, but I'm told the young man in the other car wasn’t as lucky. My father will make it all go away. He'll make sure it looks like I was never even at the scene. When you’re Kenneth Michaels, you can do anything.