Page 18 of Black Light: Cured

Master Aiden’s eyes drift about the space, and I swear the edges of his lips curl up just a touch, as

if helping me is so beneath him that it causes him to look at my workspace with scorn and derision.

But that can’t be possible. If what I do is so abhorrent, why is he here? Perhaps it’s the very idea of

making a client work, and if that’s the case, it’s valid.

I’ve never asked a client to help pitch in, and I have no idea what compelled me to do so now. It

should have never happened. He should be out there relaxing as I do the work. That’s how it goes. It’s

how everything is supposed to happen. Yet, for some reason, I had the insane urge to want to work

beside him, to see how we got along in that way. But it was still wrong and woefully unprofessional.

Stretching out my hand, I motion toward the main club. “Forgive me. If you’d like to take a seat

just outside the door, I’ll come get you as soon as I’m ready.”

Once more, his eyes drift about the space before landing on me, only to travel down my body and

back up. That disappointed look never leaves his face, and he never explains why it’s there. Is it that

he’s used to working with medical massage therapists and expected more from me?

Shame floods my face as I drop my hand to my side. That has to be it. As he turns to leave, I bring

my fingers up to my face and pat my cheeks, dragging tips across the cheekbone and down to my neck

in hopes of bringing the blood back down so I don’t look so flushed. Lymphatic drainage of the face

helps with sinus issues, so why not try to get the blood circulating in the same way?

I’m not sure if it will work or not, but it’s something to keep my hands busy as he slips out of the

curtained-off frame and back into the club area. Thoughts and emotions swirl through me, threatening

to unground me, but I have to force them to the side. As my client, he deserves nothing less than my

best, and that’s what he’s going to get.

Pulling the other sheet up, I check the edges to make sure they’re even before setting up the rest of

my equipment. Based on who’s coming to see me, I make sure to pull out my cupping and gua sha set

along with my myofascial release tools. A lot of my clients deal with chronic pain, so I’m always

studying up on the newest techniques to help them.

They don’t seem to mind me trying out what I learn on them since they always leave with less pain

than they came in with. Smiling down at my stainless-steel tools, I graze them with my fingertips in an

almost loving, reverent manner. With everything set up, all that’s left to do is prep the energy and put

good intentions into the space.

Closing my eyes, I take my black tourmaline from my scrub pants pocket and hold it in my palm as