Page 2 of Dark Side of the Cloth

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A Week Later

Yasmine woke with a start because of a loud noise. She had taken to sleeping in the pantry where she could lock the door, and no one would think to look for her. She pushed herself out from under the back corner shelf she’d curled up in to sleep. The small space was dark, but the soft glow of the kitchen light filtered under the door, making her feel safer. Ever since Raquel’s death, she hadn’t slept through a night. Something or someone always woke her.

Yasmine bit her lip, her hands shaking as she reached for the knob to see what the strange noise had been. The house was large, but she heard every creak, groan, thud, and bang in the quiet that accompanied the night. The knob screeched a little in protest as she turned it.

Yasmine poked her head out, but nothing moved, and no other sound could be heard. She tiptoed out of the kitchen and began a search of the house. She had designated herself as the house guard, slinking through the rooms at all hours to make sure the doors and windows had been properly locked. She completed her inspection of the main floor and made her way up the wooden stairs, careful to avoid the steps that made noise. Nothing seemed out of place, but when she poked her head into her parent’s room, her mother was not in bed.

A shiver raced down her spine as she renewed her search, this time for her mother. They hadn’t spoken since the night her mother told her that she was the one that should be dead, but she couldn’t think about that now—she was on duty.

Yasmine looked everywhere that she could think, even in the backyard and the garage, but found nothing. Giving up, she made her way back to her little sleeping spot when she spotted the door to the basement, where Daddy got the bodies ready for a funeral, open. The light was off, but he never left the door open. Yasmine swallowed hard, her body shaking as she stepped toward the dark descent. She flicked on the light switch and jumped back, expecting something to attack her. Her heart beat so loud in her ears that it was all she could hear. But, her fear was for nothing because there was no monster or man waiting to pounce.

Yasmine tiptoed down the stairs to the first landing, looked into her Daddy’s workroom, and saw her mother. “Mommy?”

She stared at the chair on the floor and then back up at her mother’s purple-colored face and the blank stare on it. Yasmine stepped forward one step and froze as her mother’s body twitched and jerked harder, strange noises coming from her mouth as her body swung from a rope wrapped around her neck. She tried to scream, but it felt trapped in her throat as she gaped at her mother.

Finally, Yasmine’s mind registered the situation, and she ran forward as she began to scream for her Dad. She grabbed her mother’s leg and lifted as hard as she could as panicked tears burst forth.

“Mommy, don’t leave me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I killed Raquel. Please don’t leave me!”

Present Day

“Oh yes! Yes! Yes, Father, fuck me just like that!” Yasmine leaned back in the chair, getting more comfortable as her fingers quickly worked her heated folds and swollen nub. “Oh, dear God, don’t stop fucking me!” She watched in earnest as the fake priest slammed his dick into the actress portraying a parishioner. “You’ve been very naughty and need to be taught a lesson,” the fake priest said as he smacked the girl’s ass. Yasmine gave her hard little clit a few more tugs and came all over her fingers. The wetness slid down her legs and soaked the panties she’d pulled down just enough to give her hand access to work her needy pussy.

Heavy footsteps coming down the stairs had her jumping up. Fumbling with her phone, she managed to turn off the dirty porn video and quickly slip into the bathroom. After a few deep breaths, she pulled her head together and pretended to use the restroom. After washing her hands, she fixed her always untamable red hair, composed her face, and stepped back out into her workspace.

“Oh Yasmine, there you are. I thought maybe I’d missed you upstairs.”

Yasmine stared, momentarily dumbfounded, at seeing her real-life fantasy standing before her. The new hot priest had almost caught her masturbating to a dirty video, and the entire situation had her sex clenching and looking for more.

“No, I’ll be here for a few hours yet. I still have paperwork to finish.” She wanted to smack her hand against her forehead. “How can I help you, Father O’Sullivan?”

“How many times do I need to remind you to call me Dean?” One dark eyebrow rose in a challenge, and Yasmine had to work hard not to squirm under his sexy stare.

“Just habit. Sorry, Dean.” She emphasized his name, and one corner of his mouth turned up. “How can I help you?”

Dean methodically wandered around her worktable, his hands neatly folded in front of his long black robes. She couldn’t help herself from picturing what he looked like under those formal robes. She knew he used to be in the Army, and from his tall, broad-shouldered build, she could tell he still worked out regularly.

How he ended up as a priest was beyond her, but as far as she was concerned, ‘taking his priestly vows was a waste to women everywhere. Dean’s swarthy looks and smoldering eyes had the church pews busting full no matter what day of the week it was. Every horny teen, Suzy Homemaker, widower, and slut in town primmed and pampered themselves to look extra special for Father O’Sullivan. It made her wonder if they went home and had sex with the men in their lives while thinking about him instead.

Dean came to a stop before her, and his hazel eyes seemed to call to her, telling her so much more than his words did, all of it very naughty. Her legs began to tremble gently from his nearness. She’d never been so happy to be wearing one of her long work smocks.

“I have some distressing news and felt it should be delivered in person.” Dean’s eyes flicked to the chair she’d been inhabiting moments ago, and a flush spread throughout her body as she spotted droplets of her orgasm still on the seat. Before she could direct him to sit elsewhere, he wiped off the seat with his hand and sat down. If she hadn’t been so turned on by him unknowingly touching her release, she would have bolted from the room. She licked her suddenly dry lips and shook her head to break the spell.

“There has been a multi-vehicle accident on the neighboring interstate. The police are saying this ice storm is the cause. The loss of life is such a shame.” Dean’s gaze captured hers once more, and she crossed her arms over her chest to keep her heart from jumping out.

“Oh my.” Yasmine leaned against the table. “Anyone I’d know?” she asked and then silently chastised herself for such a stupid question. On some level, she knew everyone in the area, even if she wasn’t close to anyone.

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s anyone you knew well.”

Yasmine nodded at the news. Hearing about so much death saddened her, and yet it also meant business for her, which left her dealing with a strange mix of emotions. Actually, being around death left all people with a strange mix of emotions. This was probably why she didn’t have any friends now or when she was young. Funny how kids thought you were a freak when you’d grown up surrounded by the dead.

Her small funeral home had been in business for over a hundred years. Her grandfather, then her father, kept the doors open for generations, and now it was her turn. She would continue to service those in mourning. She took great pride in making sure the dead looked as good as the living. It was their final bow, and she’d worked hard to perfect her craft.

“I just came from helping the sheriff notify the families of their loss. They are in God’s embrace now, which brings me to why I’m here. All three of the families have requested to have the funerals held at the same time.”

“The same time?”