Page 20 of Devil's Haunting
I’m not going to come out and say the house is haunted. I fucking refuse. That would make me sound like I’ve lost my tether to reality, and I’d never hear the end of it.
Still, I can’t deny that some shit I can’t explain has been going on. Laiken is convinced she saw Desiree only a few days ago. It’s not like I can say she’s wrong either.
Hacker sounds way too fucking interested as he asks, “What kind of strange things?”
“Just strange shit,” I try and deflect. “Some tools have gone missing. Some noises and cold spots and that kind of thing. It’s probably just the old as fuck house, but it is kind of creepy.” I nod toward my woman and explain, “Laiken found an old journal in a bedroom a while ago. The story in the journalis fucked up and involves a cheating husband and a Voodoo practicing servant as a mistress.”
“Damn,” Tack grunts and lets out a low whistle. “Who did the journal belong to?”
“A woman by the name of Blanche Ann Landry. She married into the family in 1901. Sounds like things weren’t easy for her,” I tell them. “There was an entry about some sort of curse, and she believed it was true back in the day.”
“I can dig into the history of the house if you’d like,” Hacker offers.
I glance his way and give him a chin lift. “That would be good. Anything to put my woman’s mind at ease.”
Prodigal teases, “Your woman, huh?”
I huff out an annoyed breath and roll my eyes. “She’s mine. I’ll claim her at the table when her property cut comes in,” I assure him.
Something shifts at the women’s table when Cherie leans closer to Laiken, and I find myself pushing off the bar and closing the distance between me and my woman. I’m curious as to what is going on and from the sound of the boots following me, I’m not the only one.
Just as I reach my woman, Cherie’s voice carries above the sound of the music, “I remember hearing stories about that house when I was growing up. The entrance to the driveway was always a little overgrown and not as welcoming as it could have been which is why I think kids loved to talk about it.”
Laiken’s voice is full of curiosity as she pushes, “What kind of stories?”
“When I was a girl, it was said the woman of the house killed her husband after finding out he had an affair with a servant. Apparently, the husband did disappear, but so did the maid. People figured he ran off with the maid and left the wife behind. Of course,” she tosses out as she rolls her eyes, “there was also talk of the maid practicing Voodoo, but it was probably a lie. This is New Orleans and anything remotely sketchy somehow involves Voodoo which is just silly.”
Laiken sits there frozen, her large grey eyes blinking a few times as she processes Cherie’s story. I swear I can almost read her mind—if that is what happened when Cherie was a girl and it’s not the same players as Blanche and her husband, then maybe there is some truth to the curse.
“Well,” I growl and reach for my woman, hauling her up and throwing her over my shoulder, “enough campfire stories for one night. I’m ready to take my woman off to bed.”
“Hey,” Laiken shrieks even with her looking like a sack of potatoes, “put me down. I was talking with my girls.”
A smile tugs at my lips because she’s claimed the Old Ladies as her own. When I glance at my brothers, they have the same look on their faces. Yeah, she just won them all over.
“Don’t worry,” Sioux shouts to my woman, “we’ll have plenty of time together, Laiken. You’ll be back. We’re a group that loves to party and is big on family.”
My woman huffs out, “Fine.”
I spank her ass which causes her to let out an adorable yelp of surprise. I wave to my family before stalking my way through the common room toward where everyone’s rooms are. I haven’t stayed here in weeks, but we already dropped a bag off earlier today when we arrived for the party.
My only focus is getting to my room as quickly as possible and everything else fades away. Even though I was buried inside of my woman only hours ago, I already need her again.
I think I’ll always need more of her and will never get enough.
When the door to my room swings open, I freeze and then let out a roar at the sight in front of me. Kiki, one of the club angels, is laid out on my bed. She’s naked with her fingers buried inside of her loose as fuck snatch.
She arches her back and moans, “Oh, Hammer, you’re finally here.”
Laiken’s body goes rigid and my eyes narrow at the woman who has made a huge mistake. I can hear boots storming my way which is no surprise considering how loud I fucking roared.
“Put me down,” my woman hisses, and I allow her to slide down my body slowly.
When she turns to see the scene in front of us, I can feel the anger coming off her in waves. I’m not sure who the feminine gasp which comes from behind us belongs to, but they’re not alone.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Apostle mutters under his breath.
“Get the fuck out of my room,” I demand, my voice menacing.
