Page 4 of Devil's Haunting
“That’s what the appointment says,” I snark back at him with my words while my tone is pure fucking velvet for Rain.
Her giggle has me grinning at Bedlam who narrows his eyes at me. Heather, who has been watching our exchange, turns away and covers her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter. Scope leans into her side and whispers something in her ear which causes her to turn red.
Yeah, Rain won’t be an only child for long.
Viper pops up next to me and grabs his daughter without any warning. I’m holding air before I even realize what is happening. The scowl I direct toward him is the same one that has scared many men in the past. It doesn’t do a damn thing to him though; he only smiles at me and buries his face against Rain’s neck and blows a raspberry.
Rain’s shriek of delight is beautiful and makes me grin. It also makes me more jealous than I have any right to be. When I look at Heather, I’m a little surprised at the understanding and knowing expression on her face. It’s as if she can feel how the green-eyed monster is breathing down my neck and demanding I turn on my family.
It’ll never happen though. I can be happy for them and want more for my own life as well. At least, I hope I can.
“I gotta get going,” I growl while glaring at Viper.
“Bye, Hamma,” Rain throws her hand up in the air as she screeches at me.
When she starts blowing me kisses, I fucking melt and the feeling of jealousy burning in my gut dissipates. I blow her a kiss right back, not giving a fuck at the way some of my brothers snicker. Like they wouldn’t do the same damn thing.
Before heading out the door, I flip them all off behind Rain’s back. The last thing I need is for her to learn some bad fucking habit from me. I’d never live it down and I don’t need Heather’s wrath anywhere near me.
With a longing look at my bike, I climb into my truck with the Devil’s Construction logo on the side. It’s basically the same image as the one on our patches, but instead of bike parts under the Devil’s skull, it’s two hammers. I can’t help but smile every time I look at it.
It doesn’t take long for me to get to the address for the consultation. The moment I pull in and start heading down the long ass driveway, I’ve already found some areas where we’re needed. This is the kind of place which is damn close to being taken back over by nature.
It doesn’t take away from the beauty of the place, or the grandeur which is apparent the moment you enter the property. When the trees break and the bend leads me toward the house, my eyes widen at the sight in front of me.
The house is huge, fucking massive, to the point I would categorize it as a mansion, and it’s old. It’s the kind of home which would have been considered a place of import back when the comings and goings of more polite society was what mattered in this city. I can almost see it lit up from the inside out with glittering lights as fancily dressed maidens and smartly dapper gents walk through the front door for a ball everyone wants an invitation to.
While the size of the place is far from the problem, one glance at the monstrosity in front of me makes it obvious what the problem is.
It needs to be overhauled from the studs out. Hell, some of the studs probably need to be replaced. The whole home has fallen into disrepair and I’m not sure how much will be salvageable.
I might be a guy who loves a good restoration, but this is beyond that. This is a rebuild while keeping the old charm in place. Everything must be stripped and then rebuilt.
The cost will be astronomical; the thought makes me shiver as I get out of my truck.
There’s no way I can lie to myself that someone, pretty much anyone, is going to have the money to make this job doable.
And that is a fucking shame because this house is amazing as a dilapidated eyesore. I can’t imagine what it would be if brought back to its former glory.
As I head toward the porch steps, movement in one of the upper windows catches my eye and makes me pause. The thought of someone in the house makes my stomach flip because nothing about this place is even a little bit habitable beyond a wild animal squatting where it doesn’t belong.
I stare at the window where I saw movement, but there’s nothing there. Still, it is as if I can’t tear my eyes away for a solid minute. Once I do, I step up onto the porch and move toward the front door. No one should be inside, but the SUV parked out front tells me someone is here.
Why does the thought make my blood boil?
Before I can make it to the door, I take a step, and my leg falls through the rotted wood on the porch and is swallowed up to my knee.
“Fucking hell! Mother fucker, cock sucking damn it!”
The words are ripped from me and compete with the clattering of my metal clipboard and notebook holder against the wood as it falls from my hands as I hope I can brace myself and not fall completely through the porch. As if falling through as much as I have isn’t bad enough.
It is.
And it’s fucking annoying as hell.
I feel suspended in a horror movie, surrounded by my own personal hell.
My leg aches and I hope I didn’t snag a nail or some shit, and I don’t have a gash I’ll need to go and get checked out. The last thing I need is an infection; those are the kinds of things that take you out.
