Deanna Madden #1 The Girl in 6E Read Online Free PDF

she whispers.
    “Sure. Let’s sit on the back step, and get out of everyone’s way.” He straightens, holding his hand out, and she slides her tiny one into his and tugs, pulling him through the small living room to the worn-out back door.
    They sit close, heads together, legs touching, on the small concrete step of the back stoop. She leans against his shoulder, pulling at the paper with anxious hands, her frustration with the tape eliciting a laugh from him. He takes the package gently and works the tape loose. “There,” he says, passing it back to her. “Now you can rip it to shreds.”
    Inside the house, the front door is opened to another young girl, her father holding on to her small hand until they cross the threshold. The girl runs, heading to the table of favors, her feet pounding the thin floors of the trailer. “Where’s Annie?” the man asks, watching his daughter streak through the house.
    “She’ll be in in a minute,” Carolyn Thompson says, setting down a pitcher of tea and flashing a smile. “I know she’ll be excited to see Dana. It’s been too long since you brought her over.”
    The man grimaces, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “You know how it goes, Carolyn. Too many other temptations on our time.”
    The woman nods as she sets out a stack of cups, then turns to head back into the kitchen. On the way she stops at the back door, watching the step, seeing her brother lean down and whisper something into Annie’s ear.

CHAPTER 12
    I HAVE TWO shrinks. I don’t really know why, except that I can’t seem to tell one of them things that I can tell the other, and vice versa. I actually pay both shrinks, which is an oddity for me since I normally try to exchange goods for services. Sex, even Internet sex, seems to be a universal currency. I tried using a client as a shrink once, and it was disastrous. Of course, with a username like QuackAttack, I probably should have known from the beginning that it wouldn’t work out. That was the guy with the little dick.
    Dr. Brian Russell is my first shrink, my sex doctor. He is a sex therapist who is basically my gossip buddy. His website’s photo shows a thin, bald white man whose photos absolutely shriek gay, even though he is doing nothing but smiling into a camera with a business suit on. I wanted a gay shrink so I wouldn’t have to worry about turning him on when I describe my sessions. I talk to him about my customers, and he tells me their sexual motivations and how I can best connect with them. That is the official description of our relationship, but mostly we just giggle about what goes on during my cam sessions. I have no one else to talk to about this, and due to our doctor/patient relationship, he is a vault.
    Dr. Derek Vanderbilt is my second shrink and has been on the payroll for eighteen months. He’s the closest thing to a friend I have had in the last three years. I can’t find a photo of him online, which irks me no end. For some reason, knowing what the person on the other end of the line looks like makes me feel I have the upper hand…at least in my mind. We talk once a week, on Wednesdays at two p.m. He has strongly suggested that I increase my sessions to twice weekly, but I have ignored that suggestion. He doesn’t know I have a second shrink. If he did, he might not worry about my psychological health so much. I talk to Derek about my murderous inclinations and the effects of my isolation. I don’t mind being killer-crazy, but I don’t want to be loony-bin-crazy. That would probably be bad for business—a bit of a turnoff.
    “Tell me about your most recent fantasy.” Derek’s voice is smooth, deep, and masculine. I could listen to it all day long, though at $150 an hour, I limit myself to hour-long sessions.
    “I enter a house at night. It’s quiet. All I can hear is the occasional chirp of a smoke alarm. The sound drives me crazy. I can’t find anyone downstairs, and as I climb the stairs, my