Love Knows No Bounds by Brooke Moss, Nina Croft, Boone Brux Read Free Book Online Page A

scanning the religious paraphernalia.
    “One-stop shopping for all your religious needs,” he said.
    She gave him a weak smile. “That’s an understatement.”
    “Can I help you find something?” said a voice from behind a shelf of bobblehead Jesuses.
    They wove their way toward the back and turned a corner. A little old lady with bright blue hair sat in a rocking chair working on a half-crocheted afghan. A ball of yarn as big as her head lay nestled in a blue canvas bag at her feet; slowly unrolling with each stitch.
    “Hello,” Faye said. “Do you carry holy water?”
    “Sure do.” The old woman set the blanket aside, gave a few weak rocks, and hefted her thin frame out of the chair. “It’s over here next to the fiber optic burning bushes.” With a rhythmic shuffle, she made her way across the store. “We’ve got 16-ounce, 20-ounce, or liter bottles.” She stopped in front of a cooler. “What do you need it for?”
    “I…uh...” Faye glanced at Christopher for help. He shrugged. Oh what the hell? “I need it to exorcise the Devil from my computer.”
    “Ah.” The woman nodded. “We see a lot of that. So how bad is it?”
    Faye shook her head. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean did he lead you down the path of temptation or will your soul be the main course at Satan’s BBQ?”
    She grimaced. “Main course.”
    The old lady let out a low whistle and shoved a bottle at her. “You best get the liter bottle then. You may want to check out our sale on genuine silver-plated crucifixes, nice and powerful.” She shuffled past them. “And I’ll give you a deal on the Pocket Pal and bobblehead Jesus. Buy one and the other is half-off.”
    Faye clutched the holy water to her chest, suddenly overcome with panic at the idea of trying to exorcise Satan. Maybe she’d watched too many horror films, but it usually never ended well for the nondescript actress. Her voice wavered. “Thank you.”
    Christopher’s hand settled on her shoulder. “It will be all right.”
    She looked at him and nodded. But what if it wasn’t all right? What if, despite all her efforts, the Devil won?
    “Come on,” he said, as if understanding her despair. “Let’s shop.”
    They left the store loaded down with a liter of holy water, two bobbleheads, a silver-plated crucifix, one fiber optic burning bush, three rosary strands, and a snow globe of the nativity scene. The old lady had thrown in a Pocket Pal Jesusfor free. Faye had slipped it into her bra. No harm in keeping the Son of God close.
    “What now?” Christopher asked.
    Faye hesitated. Having him with her when she attempted the exorcism would be great, but the last thing she wanted was for him to get a look at Whitney. As much as she tried not to gush, she was beginning to like Christopher—a lot. But once he saw her roommate, things would change. That’s how it was when you lived with a super-model, constantly seeing men fawning and falling all over themselves. “I guess I’ll go home and try to vanquish Satan.”
    He nodded and took the bag from her. “Good idea. Let’s get this over with.”
    She gave him a weak smile. What did it matter if he met Whitney? Better now than after she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him, which usually happened around week three of dating. Not that they were going to date—but in case they did. He was staring at her, waiting for a response. “Let’s go.”
    Three subway rides later, they stood at her apartment door. Maybe Whitney was at a shoot, or shopping, or having her bikini line waxed. Faye slid the key into the door. The lock clicked and opened on the first try. “That’s weird. Usually it sticks.”
    “Your lucky day,” he said.
    “Maybe.” It didn’t feel lucky. Actually, it felt kind of ominous, like the creaky door that opens by itself in a horror movie. She pushed the door and it swung wide. No Whitney, or any other evil entity that she could see. “Come in.” Faye slid the bag onto the kitchen counter.