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Some Habits, Are Hard to Break
Some Habits, Are Hard to Break
Some Habits, Are Hard to Break
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Some Habits, Are Hard to Break

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Up until her 13th birthday, she was a normal girl, with a normal life. During the next 12 months, her father died and her mother threw her into a convent. As scared as she was, she toughed it out until she turned 18. Surprising even herself, she changed her mind about leaving, after having a talk with Mother Superior. She ended up staying in that lifestyle, until she was 30 years old. She had become Sister Delores, and was on a sabbatical from the convent, when she met a man named, Justice Thomas Weber. Unbeknownst to the sheltered woman, Justice was a notorious criminal. And because he had violated his current parole agreement, a search was on for his immediate arrest. From the moment they met, Justice became completely fascinated by the girl, who was now going by her birth name - Lola Angelina Syndoni. He was relentless in his constant pursuit of her, stopping at nothing short of murdering anyone who dared stand in his way. They began seeing each other casually, but it didnt take long before Justice decided that he wanted more than just a mere friendship with her. He gifted her with the book, with a large tie on the front cover. He then begged her to read it, hoping that it would push their relationship into another direction. Dating, love, and having sex was all new to Lola, but because she was now captivated by this moody man, who was now a part of her daily life, she faithfully did as she was told. She found the storyline to be interesting, but not something she could ever do. After much persuasion by her ruggedly handsome suitor, but with a ton of hesitation on her part, Lola finally complied and consented to giving up her virginity; however, it almost cost her her life. Justice tried to follow the storyline in the erotic book, but because of Lolas many loud protests and his very short temper, things got out of hand and ended with him going back to jail. Lola was able to escape after his last brutal and dominant sexual attack, and was rushed to the hospital where she now needs to heal. Once she is released, does Lola go back to the confines of the convent where its safe and familiar? Or does she stay in the outside world and take another chance at finding love?

CAUTION: This story contains mature language, graphic violence, and unsympathetic sexual content. This story is clearly not suitable for young children, and discretion is advised.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJul 31, 2013
ISBN9781481776295
Some Habits, Are Hard to Break
Author

Tina Griffith

Tina Griffith has written 27 children’s books, worked in television for 11 years and radio for 5, and began writing romance novels, after her husband of 25 years passed away.  This is her 10th book in the last 12 years, and it’s the best one yet.  Tina writes in color, and pulls you into the story on the first page.  She breathes life into her characters and she keeps you interested until the very end.  She writes with raw emotion, and uses the strange reality of our private lives to tell her stories.  Yes, she gives the excitement of intoxicating lovemaking moments to her characters, but they are written with class and definitely worth reading.  All of her stories are compelling, which is probably why she has won awards for her writing skills.  If you’re looking for something to stimulate your senses, read anything that Tina Griffith has written.

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    Some Habits, Are Hard to Break - Tina Griffith

    2013 by Tina Griffith. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 09/03/2013

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-7628-8 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-7629-5 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2013912556

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    This story is lovingly dedicated

    to my wonderful sister,

    Arlene Bridget Allen

    35857.png

    Which identity should we use to call her awake? The head nurse posed the question to her two colleagues in the room.

    I’m not sure. Let’s try them both and see which one she responds to.

    The red-haired nurse placed the clipboard into her hands and checked the names. It says here, that before she become a nun, her name was Lola Syndoni, she pointed out. She stepped closer to the unconscious woman’s body. Lola! Lola Syndoni! Can you hear me? she called loud and firm.

    The other two nurses looked towards each other, guessing who would try next.

    Betty, the oldest of the three, made a face and then silently agreed to give it a go. Sister Delores! Can you hear me?

    The patient didn’t move, nor did she show any signs of being coherent.

    Selma, the youngest nurse on staff, checked the unresponsive woman’s hourly vital signs. Everything still looks okay, she confirmed.

    The red-haired nurse was looking out the widow, marveling at how many people had taken up camp since the patient had been brought in.

    Betty could read her mind and added her two cents. More come every day, and they won’t go home until they hear her entire story.

    But she’s been here for two days and even we don’t know all the details about what really happened, the red-haired nurse whined. She took a few steps and stopped when she was standing directly beside Betty.

    We will, when her body is willing. Just have faith, the oldest nurse offered. She’s had a great deal of damage done to her.

    The kindly woman walked over and took Lola’s hand in hers, and tapped it a few times with her other one. She’ll need a bit more rest before her body will want to wake up, she said. She brushed the invisible hair away from her patient’s forehead as she spoke.

    Selma placed a second blanket over the patient’s feet, to keep them warm. It’s quite scary that this kind of thing can happen to an unsuspecting woman, eh? She looked into the terribly distorted face of the battered and bruised, 30-year old woman lying in the bed, and hoped that the swelling would go down soon.

    Maybe the man didn’t know she was a nun.

    You could be right, but that shouldn’t matter. I was just on the dating sites a few days ago, looking for someone to go to a wedding with me, stated the red-haired nurse. The picking is slim, but I don’t want to go to my brother’s wedding on Saturday night and have no-one to talk to or dance with. She kicked the ground with her foot and stomped off to another part of the room. If a nun could get so brutally attacked, it could happen to anyone. How far do we have to go to protect ourselves?

    The older nurse looked over at her charge and offered a piece of advice. What about going with a friend? You could ask someone you know—male or female. That way you could both have a good time, and there won’t be any pressure.

    The red-haired nurse felt a smile being created at the prospect of the great idea. You know, she began. It just might work. She giggled at the possibilities, and then wondered who she could go with.

    While her brain was busy running down the names of her friends, the youngest nurse checked the chart again and placed her initials in the required boxes. Okay, she said. That’s it for this hour. What are you guys doing for supper?

    Do you wanna order in?

    Sounds good to me.

    As Selma tucked the blankets in around the patient’s legs and torso, Betty made sure that all the machines were working properly. The clipboard was put back on the hook at the foot of the bed, and then the three of them left the room.

    Minutes later, Mother Superior came into the quiet, all-white, sterile room, and sat down on the simple chair beside the unconscious woman.

    A small tear fell from her right eye as she looked into her friend’s torn up face. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her right index finger, before anyone could tell how she felt.

    Mother Superior had always had a soft spot for Lola, and they both knew it; however, it was never said out loud. The Rev. Mother had been taught to always be strong, but the bruised and broken woman lying before her, was special. They had been introduced under not-so-unique, but unconventional circumstances, and had known each other for most of Lola’s life. Still, it would not do for anyone to see an old nun cry.

    Picturing the 30-year old laying there, barely breathing, with fractures and cuts everywhere, sent chills up the older woman’s spine.

    While she could not hate, she fiercely despised the man who had put her friend in this prison-like place. She also hoped that God’s wise judgment and wrath were swift, with severe punishment to follow.

    As Mother Superior looked into the swollen face and bandaged body of Sister Delores, she wanted to cry. She knew she couldn’t have stopped the young woman from taking a leave from the convent, but she wished that she could have done something to prevent her attack from occurring.

    Not surprisingly, she believes that everything

    happens for a reason. God cannot stop evil things or people from pouncing into our lives, but He can guide us in certain directions, and then He helps us mend what is broken.

    The Rev. Mother had heard bits and pieces of what had happened to her friend, and wondered about the man who Sister Delores had spent so much time with. Had they known each other long? What had happened for Sister Delores to end up here, in this manner, almost on the brink of death?

    No-one knew for sure, but everyone wanted to know the answer.

    As the highlights began trickling in, that the victim was a nun and the man was one of the country’s most sought after, Top-Ten Criminals, everyone was eating it up. People who didn’t watch the news that much before, were now glued to their radio, TV, and computers as much as possible, every single day.

    Since the night of her attack, cameras, microphones, Mobile Video Units, and reporters from all genres across the land, camped out on the front lawn of St. Peter’s famous hospital. They were all waiting for any word that Lola had recovered, or that she was on the road to possibly leading a normal life again.

    Because this story was so newsworthy, every reporter worth his or her weight in gold, did not shower, change clothing, or worry about their families at home. They all vowed to stay put, for each one of them knew with all certainty, that this would be the chance of a lifetime; an interview with Lola Syndoni could very well boast their income, and elevate their career.

    The many tired and hungry men and women hanging around on the well-manicured grass, understood full-well that the person who could obtain the missing pieces of the story, would help their station to achieve excellent ratings. Once the name of that lucky reporter becomes known, it would then be on everyone’s lips.

    The weather was the biggest factor during those long days; at night it was very cold, the mornings were cool, and the afternoons were very hot and humid. But because of greed, fame, and the probability of becoming well-known, only the strong stuck it out and fought for the chance to get an interview.

    The few inexperienced and star-struck medical staff who were working that week, were also vying for the chance to be on shift when the unknown elements of the story got explained.

    Up until now, the public only knew bits and pieces, and were on pins and needles waiting for the full disclosure.

    35865.png

    It took two more days before Sister Delores opened her eyes. The media were told immediately, and then the place became alive and buzzing with rumors about who would get the interview.

    The medical staff were also thrilled, for all their around-the-clock, hard work had paid off.

    Mother Superior blessed everyone, and then thanked the heavens that her prayers had been answered.

    At first, Lola was frightened and she didn’t know where she was. Then she saw Mother Superior’s smiling face, beaming with happiness, and she felt better.

    The Rev. Mother’s hands were pressed tightly together, while the fingertips lay firmly against her quivering lips.

    In the far corner of the room, Lola heard a few nurses shouting hysterically; they were cheering because she had woken up, but they were also calling for the doctor to come into the room.

    While Lola could see and hear everything, her mind wasn’t registering anything. She had no idea what was going on and began to feel alarmed by all the hysteria.

    Lola tried to lift her head and then realized that her entire body felt abnormal. As she looked down, she saw that she couldn’t move because of the needles in her arms and the monitors strapped to her skin.

    She laid her head back down on the pillow and wondered what was going on; she had a throbbing headache, and her mouth felt like she had run into a brick wall. The weirdness of all that was happening, inspired her mouth to pout, as if she was about to cry.

    The Rev. Mother saw this and stood up. The regal woman braced her hand gently on the girl’s shoulder and spoke. It’s going to be okay, she said softly. You’re on the road to recovery.

    A panicked doctor burst through the door and rushed towards the woman in the bed. Without speaking, he pulled out his stethoscope and listened to a few vital signs. He then carefully read all the monitor readings that were contained in her chart.

    Satisfied with those findings, he checked her eyes, and then started firing questions towards her face. Can you hear me, okay? he began. He waited until she nodded before he asked the next question. Do you know your name?

    Lola had to sit on that one for a minute. It was in the air, but just out of her reach. Her mind tried to recall her name, but couldn’t. She even wanted to guess at what it could be, and then felt like crying.

    She turned to face Mother Superior and hoped that she would help.

    Do you know who this is? the doctor asked, pointing to the Rev. Mother. He could see that there was a connection between them, but he wasn’t sure what it could be.

    Lola nodded. The blessed woman had been like a mother to her, for as long as she could remember.

    Good. The doctor was pleased. Do you know where you are?

    Lola took a look around and could only assume that she was in a Catholic hospital. Saint Peter’s Hospital? she replied as a question.

    Good. The doctor nodded his satisfaction. Do you know what day it is?

    Lola wondered what kind of a question that was; of course she didn’t know what day it was. She had no clue as to how long she had been there, because she didn’t know when she had arrived. How could she possibly answer that question?

    Ma’am? he asked, trying not to sound impatient.

    No.

    Okay, he replied. That’s probably enough for now. I’ll be back later to see if you’ve made any more progress.

    Lola watched as the doctor tucked the clipboard under his arm. He then began walking towards the door, dragging one of the nurses with him. Once the door closed, she then turned to look into Mother Superior’s face. How am I, really?

    The Rev. Mother tapped her old hand on Lola’s upper arm and tried to be comforting. You’re going to be all right.

    In that very moment, the door to the room swung wide open and in walked Mrs. Elsa Bogady.

    The motel owner strode quickly across the sterile room, focusing solely on her dear friend in the bed. She retrieved a colorful handkerchief from her worn-out, black purse, and brought it up to her lips. She looked down at the girl’s face, and then at her battered body. Oh, my dear child, she cried out. How could someone do this to you?

    Mrs. Bogady! Lola sighed softly. How nice to see you. The patient wanted to give the older woman a hug, but she couldn’t move a muscle, even if she wanted to.

    Mrs. Bogady was beside herself with grief and needed to sit down. As the elderly woman looked around the room for a chair, she gasped when she spotted the tall nun, sitting quietly on the other side of the bed.

    Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Mrs. Bogady bowed slightly, and then automatically crossed herself.

    Mother Superior stood up and offered the agitated woman her seat. Please, she begged. I really don’t need it. She slid the chair around to the other side of the bed, and then made her way back to where she had started.

    As Mrs. Bogady sat down, she thanked the black and white decked out woman for her kindness.

    The Rev. Mother smiled and nodded in her direction, and then they both moved their attention back to Lola.

    How nice of you to come, Lola said, as tears began to well in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was the excitement or situation, but she was unexpectedly more emotional than normal.

    Lola then thought of Mrs. Weber. She turned to the motel owner, and with no self-control, she blurted out her question. We have to tell Mrs. Weber that I am not able to take care of her for a while.

    She was serious, but Mrs. Bogady chuckled lightly. Oh, my dear. She already knows. The older woman blushed, for she had left out some significant details, but she thought that would be okay for now.

    How does she know? Lola asked. She was now growing curious as to how long she had been in the hospital bed.

    Well, Mrs. Bogady began. The hospital called me the night that you were attacked, and told me that they were admitting you.

    Lola’s eyes went wide from fright, and her heart began to thump wildly in her chest. I was attacked?

    Mrs. Bogady didn’t hear Lola’s question and continued speaking. Of course, I was in disbelief and cried for many hours, before I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. When I woke up the next morning, I remembered that you were expected to be at work for 9am.

    The two remaining nurses in the room, were standing by the door and in awe from what the motel owner was saying.

    I looked all over but I couldn’t find Mrs. Weber’s phone number, but I remembered the address of the building where she lived. I got out my phone book and flipped the pages until I found the number to the building manager, and then I dialed.

    Mother Superior stood silent and listened; this was part of the story which she hadn’t heard.

    Mrs. Bogady continued. When the building manager answered, I told him who I was and why I was calling. He listened to my bantering, thanked me for calling, and then we exchanged contact information, with promises to call if there was any other news.

    Mrs. Bogady straightened her skirt and then continued.

    After I hung up the phone, I had another cry. An hour later, I made some tea and ate my breakfast. I kept myself busy for the entire morning, and then I had a nap in the afternoon.

    Mrs. Bogady turned and looked sadly into Lola’s eyes. I wanted to go the hospital that very day, but when I called the nurse’s station at noon to find out if there was any news about your recovery, the nurse said, Not yet."

    Lola wiped a tear from her eye; she was so sad for Mrs. Bogady. It must have been hard for you, she sympathized.

    It was. By the fourth day, which is today, I had had enough of staying home and desperately needed to come and see you.

    The overhead speaker made a loud pop sound, and then a voice requested for one of the nurses in Lola’s room, to come to the nurse’s station right away. The announcement was followed by another crackling pop.

    Both of the nurses scampered out at the same time, much to the surprise of everyone else in the room.

    Once they were gone, both Mother Superior and Lola, turned their attention back to the motel owner.

    What happened to Mrs. Weber? Lola asked. Did the resident manger tell her that I wouldn’t be there at 9am?

    Mrs. Bogady looked down at her lap and fiddled with something between her fingers. She was stalling for time, but knew that Lola needed to know.

    She looked up and into Lola’s face as she continued her story.

    "Mrs. Weber was beside herself with worry that night, about what was happening on the ground floor. She could hear the sirens of the police cars and the ambulance arriving at the lobby of her building, but she was not capable of opening a window or going down to see all that was happening.

    About an hour later, she heard the elevator on her floor stop, and someone got out. Mrs. Weber’s curiosity got the best of her and she made her way to the front door of her apartment. She peeked through the key hole and recognized her friendly neighbor. She quickly opened her door and asked the man in the next apartment, what had happened.

    The old man gave her the few little details which he knew, but he didn’t have the names of the people who were involved.

    She thanked him and then went back inside. She locked her door and then crawled into her bed, imagining all kinds of things.

    It took a few hours, but she finally managed to go to sleep.

    It wasn’t until the resident manager came up the next morning to vacuum the hallway, did Mrs. Weber find out more details of the gruesome attack."

    Selma, the youngest nurse, slipped back in the room slowly and quietly, hoping to find out the rest of the story. She hid behind the nearby curtain, barely making a noise.

    "It was 9am when Mrs. Weber heard some machinery clanking around in the hallway, just outside of her apartment door. She stepped out, saw that it was the resident manager, and began a conversation.

    After a minute or so of light, friendly banter, she asked him if he knew anything about why the sirens had been there."

    The red-haired nurse came inside the room, and quietly walked over to stand beside her friend and cohort. She knew that she could get caught up on what she had missed, later. For now, she stood silent and listened.

    Mrs. Bogady saw the nurse come into the room, but continued on with her story. Frank Jones, who had been Mrs. Weber’s friend for fifteen years, and the manager of the building for close to twenty, became concerned by her question. Surely, she should be advised that her son had been arrested, so he felt obligated to tell her.

    Mrs. Bogady stood up so she could act out a small portion of her story. "Frank told me that the frail, older woman clutched her heart and braced herself for a fall, after she found out who was arrested and why. She couldn’t believe it, and probably didn’t want to.

    Frank whipped out his cell phone and called 9-1-1. He then held Mrs. Weber and tried to keep her calm and comfortable.

    The shock was too much for her already weak body, and somehow she knew it.

    While they waited for the ambulance to arrive, Mrs. Weber asked Frank to call her attorney. She stated that Mr. Cleef needed to be told about what had happened, so he could take care of her son, and all of her affairs while she was in the hospital.

    Frank says he solemnly agreed. At that point, he would’ve done anything she asked, if only she didn’t die in his arms."

    Even Mother Superior had now become totally mesmerized by the powerful story. Without breaking eye contact with Mrs. Bogady, she reached out to touch Lola’s arm, and patted it a few times. Lola reached her hand up and covered the Rev. Mother’s hand with her own. Everyone was quite anxious to hear what happened next.

    That night sounds like it was terribly frightening, a female voice stated.

    Mrs. Bogady couldn’t tell who had made the rather astute comment, but she was only too pleased to reply. "Frank said that the sirens could be heard from blocks away; it was quite upsetting, and yes, very frightening.

    People from most of the apartments, started rushing to the main floor entrance. Anyone who could get down there on their own, scrambled to the lobby, hoping to get a glimpse of the poor, unfortunate person who was on their way out. The crowd was in an uproar, speculating about what had happened and who was being carted away."

    Mrs. Bogady looked down at what her hands were doing in her lap, as she kept going. Once they found out it was you, one of the nicest people to visit the building, they were all in shock.

    Lola looked like she was also in shock, but didn’t want to interrupt, as she knew there was more to come.

    Two days after your attack, Frank sent a letter to the motel where you were living, in care of me.

    Mrs. Bogady lifted her face and looked directly into Lola’s eyes. Because you had listed me as your main contact, I figured that I was allowed to open the mail.

    Oh, of course, Lola responded.

    "The letter enclosed stated that Justice Weber had been placed into custody without bail, and that a hearing was scheduled in three weeks.

    Frank informed us that after the police had finished their initial investigation, a cleaning company was called.

    After Mr. Braun, the owner of ‘Braun’s Cleaning Emporium’, had been advised of the entire situation, he came out and inspected the apartment. His quote was close to $700, and he advised Frank that he would send the bill to the courthouse for payment.

    Frank wasn’t sure who should pay to get the mess cleaned up, but he decided that it wasn’t going to be the management of the building; this was not an act of God, but an act of terror from an unstable man.

    There was blood and bodily fluids all over the place, debris was in the carpets, broken glass and other particles of material needed to be cleaned up, and there was structural damage to the property, as well as to the furniture.

    The building manager suggested that the courts might pay the $700 dollars, or could the law take it from the bank account of Mr. Justice Weber?

    Frank didn’t know. He even wondered if Mrs. Weber’s attorney might pay for the cleaning and damages, since it was her son."

    A tall, blonde-haired nurse poked her head inside the room and asked one of the two eavesdropping nurses, to come out. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bogady wasn’t paying attention to them and kept talking.

    When her attorney came to visit her in the hospital, the day after she had been admitted, Mrs. Weber had him call Bernie. She said that he would need to know what was happening to them, so that he could also help.

    Everyone in the room looked at each other and wondered who Bernie was. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bogady continued.

    "Frank said that he had seen Bernie in the building plenty of times, coming-and-going, sometimes alone, and other times with Justice.

    Apparently, Bernie Marche was like another son to Mrs. Weber; they all met on the first day of Boy Scouts and have remained friends ever since."

    Bernie received the call from the lawyer, that very afternoon. He listened to a few of the details about that horrible night, and vowed to do whatever Justice and Mrs. Weber wanted or needed him to do.

    Bernie has always had a key to Justice’s apartment, and promised to go there right away—he arrived 15 minutes later.

    Because of the damage that he was surveying as he looked around his friend’s apartment, he wanted to vomit and run away.

    He had always known about, and been the victim of, Justice’s bad moods and spells of anger. He’d even seen his friend almost kill a man, using nothing but his bare hands; all because the man disagreed with what Justice was saying.

    As Bernie scrutinized every detail in the room, he tried to imagine what had happened in the living room of

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