Healer (The Healer Series) Read Free

up covered in sweat, face soaked with tears.
    Heidi died two weeks later. We went to her funeral where I saw her children. I had never seen photos of them, but somehow I knew their faces. That is when Lucy and I figured out I had the gift to absorb information. I often wonder if Lucy knew how hard I would take Heidi’s death. It still haunts me to this day.
    “Aldo. You’re up.” Esther’s beady eyes peer through the curtains that separate the dressing room from the hall that leads to the stage.
    “Coming ,” I sigh, trying to shake the thoughts of my family that have haunted me all day.
    I glance at myself one last time in the mirror and notice a picture of Alina’s daughter, Ella, on her bureau. I pick it up and my heart aches as I run my finger over Ella’s sweet and tiny face. I place the photo back where I found it, and wish I could heal Ella’s leukemia so Alina wouldn’t have to work here anymore. Alina has never invited me to her house, so I haven’t been able to meet Ella in person. Guess I can’t blame her; I’m not sure I’d bring home my stripping co-workers either.
    “You coming?” Esther pats my shoulder with her plump, sweaty hand. “Knock em dead.” She nods with encouragement as she begins to bellow out phlegm-filled coughs. She must smoke like three packs a day. I’m expecting her to hack up a lung any day now.
      As I make my way to the stairs that lead up to the stage, Alina picks up her bra and scurries towards me. She carefully makes her way down the stairs in her three inch heels and winks at me with her fake lashes. “It’s all yours.” She beams her magnificent smile.
    I smile back as I climb up the stairs to the stage. My song, “Mony Mony” by Billy Idol starts playing. “Here she is. The one. The only, Blakely!” Our D.J. Mike announces. Okay, my stripper name, not the hottest ever, I know. I threw it out to Rick, the owner, as a joke, but to my dismay he let me keep it. I guess I could’ve gone with something like Destiny, but I dare to be different.
    I prance my way on stage to the rhythm of the song , reminding myself to smile as I go. For the most part, I am severely uncoordinated and have no rhythm. My brother Whit once described me as the whitest person ever. When I started stripping, I tried to imitate women from movies like Flash Dance and Striptease , but I’m afraid I did them a grave injustice. Fortunately for me, men who come to strip clubs, for the most part, seriously only care about two things and it’s not your brains or charming personality. I’m not extremely well endowed, but I’m adequate. I really don’t work out, which I can get away with because I’m only twenty-four, so my body looks pretty good. I used to be very shy when it came to my body, but now I’m okay in my own skin. It’s a mind over matter type thing. 
    I focus hard on my balance because I’ve tripped twice since I’ve been here, and it was no less than mortifying. The second time, I sprain my ankle and had to be carried off of the stage. Of course being topless at that moment, only added to my embarrassment.
    When the song en ds, I collect my money and quickly leave the stage, relishing the fact I only have one more dance to go before I’m off. 
    As I make my way back to the dressing room, Rick steps in front of me. This is a fun little thing he does to get close up so he can stare at my mostly exposed breasts—I wear pasties. Beads of sweat cling to his enormous forehead, and his comb-over is plastered to his scalp. I would tell you what a pervert he is, but as you know he owns a strip club, so it’s kinda implied. When he first started doing this, I would hold my chest in my arms to cover myself. Now I let it all hang out because I know I can handle him. Besides, being in the boss’s good graces keeps me in the best shifts, so I do what I have to do.
    I touch Rick briefly , and drain energy from him.
    His body lurches slightly and he slouches as his shoulders drop.
    I