Page 82 of Dirty Pleasures


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Around Lunita, tons and tons of candles flickered, casting a warm, golden glow over her body. Her movements were an oddly mesmerizing blend of chaos and grace. She arched her back and did this maddening twirl.

Weird, yet beautiful.

Wrong, but also right.

Petals fluttered with every sudden turn, every abrupt halt that punctuated her eerie performance. Their colors were vivid splashes against the night, alive in the ghostly luminescence that bathed her.

With her hands out to her sides, she kicked one foot up and then began leaping around. There was a deliberate, almost ritualistic quality to those steps.

I almost let myself get lost in the sight, but the wounds from Olga’s death were still in my heart, scarred and bleeding.

“After what you did, you’re dancing?” I kept the knife at my side.

Anger rose in my chest.

Lightning struck the dark sky.

Lunita stopped dancing and gazed at it.

The little girl stopped skipping and sat down on the ground, watching the both of us.

Then, Lunita noticed me. Her expression changed from one of peacefulness to something darker, more menacing.

She leaned her head all the way down to her shoulder like a crazy person. “Little girl, is that an illusion? Did you put her there?”

“No, ma’am.” The little girl propped the stuffed lion next to her. “She’s back and came through the front door this time.”

Lunita frowned. “Bet she’s come to kill us. Stupid. Stupid.”

The little girl turned to me.

“Let’s see.” I placed the knife in front. “Come here, Lunita.”

She watched me, that white gown rippling in the cool breeze. “You needed me to save the day. I did. I just didn’t know it wasn’t a real threat. That’s your fault.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

She let out a long sigh. “You pulled me up—”

“Oh fuck you! I didn’t pull you up to fuck the gardener!” I took steps forward, needing to be close enough to grab that bitch by her hair or arms. “You wanted to ruin our life!”

“You were scared!

“No, I wasn’t!”

“You were! That’s why I came—”

“You fucked the gardener—”

“That part’s different. I wanted to smell the flowers with my nose. and he put flowers in my hair.” She touched her head. “And. . .and anyway I respected you—”

“The fuck you did—”

“I only did it in the butt!”

The little girl gasped and covered the lion’s ears.

“What more did you want?” Lunita pouted.

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