Sinful Ella (Seven Ways to Sin 6) - Page 40

“I see,” I said. My eyes fell on an aquarium set into the wall. “And you have lizards?”

“And a snake,” Valentina said. “She’s in the next room. I thought it might be tempting fate to keep her too close to the mice.”

I swallowed hard. “I see,” I repeated. One of the mice climbed the side of the cage, its little feet gripping the mesh enclosure. Its dark, beady eyes seemed to peer directly into mine, and I suppressed a shudder.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Valentina said. “We’ve got a long day of work ahead of us.”

I thanked her again and turned the light out behind her. I was so exhausted, I expected to fall asleep right away, but I passed the night restlessly, the rustling and squeaking of the mice in the corner keeping me awake. When I did manage to drift to sleep, I was tormented by dreams of tiny claws skittering over my skin, while a large, unseen snake lurked somewhere in the darkness behind me.

Valentina woke me the next morning by turning on the overhead light. “Rise and shine!” she called cheerfully. “I hope you’re ready to get to work.” She handed me a cup of coffee in a to-go cup and a cold breakfast sandwich and bustled me out the door.

“I’ve spoken to the fire chief,” Valentina said, eyes fixed on the road ahead of us. “He’s cleared us to enter the space and says it’s still structurally sound, but the superficial damage is pretty extensive. It’s going to take a lot of work to fix up.”

I nodded silently. I didn’t mind hard work. In fact, I welcomed it. It would provide a distraction from my misery, from the fact that my bandmates had abandoned me in an unfamiliar city, with no phone, no money, no way to get home.

Valentina and I were quiet as we surveyed the Ball. With the flames put out, in the light of day, it looked abandoned and sad, with none of the life and vitality it had glowed with the last time I’d been inside. I snuck a glance at her, wondering what she was thinking, if she was upset to see her business, where she apparently spent more time than her own home, reduced to this. If she was, she didn’t show it. Her face remained impassive.

She cleared her throat. “Well,” she said, “we’d better get started. I’m going to have you start upstairs, and I’ll stay down here. Here.” She handed me a broom and dustpan, as well as a box of heavy-duty garbage bags. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” With that, she headed off toward her back office, shoulders set.

I admired Valentina. In one night, her livelihood had been trashed, but here she was, still fighting on, making the best of a bad situation.

I decided to do the same. I tackled the mess upstairs with enthusiasm, sweeping up soot and debris and collecting the larger pieces of trash in garbage bags. Before long, I had filled up five of the bags. My back and arms ached, but I didn’t mind. The hard work reminded me of home, of helping out my dad around the garage, cleaning up after him and helping with minor repairs.

The memory of my dad brought hot, prickly tears to my eyes. I could see his face so clearly in my mind’s eye, wrinkled and weathered, but still cheerful, always there to comfort me whenever I needed him. I missed him so much, I ached with it. I wanted to go to him now, let him hug me and tell me that everything was going to be okay, that he was still proud of me, but I couldn’t.

I didn’t regret my actions from the other night, when I was Sexerella. I couldn’t, not when I had enjoyed myself so much, learned more about myself and my faith in one night than the rest of my twenty years put together. But the memory of my final promise to my dad rang in my ears: that I wouldn’t give up my purity. How could I face him now, knowing that I had disregarded the one thing he had ever asked of me? He would never be able to look at me the same way, if he knew.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t recognize the boot when I picked it up, but something told me to take a closer look. Sure enough, here was one of the boots I had lost in my haste to leave the morning before, a little sooty, but still intact. I hunted for the second, but to no avail; it must have burned in the fire. I tucked the one remaining boot somewhere safe, just in case Demi wanted it back. I wasn’t sure if she had any use for a single boot, but you never knew.

Tags: Nicole Casey Seven Ways to Sin Fantasy
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