Page 3 of Erik's Salvation
A beat passed as his intense hazel eyes bore into hers. Then he nodded. “Okay.”
He started to turn, but she touched his arm and, when he looked at her again, she said quietly, “Again, thank you.”
He may be an ass, but he was an ass who’d just saved her from a trip to the emergency room. If she wasn’t going to give him a marriage proposal, she may as well give him her gratitude.
His jaw ticked. “Don’t do it again.”
* * *
Erik Hunter steppedinside the large old house. An eerie quiet surrounded him, the only noise the creaking of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet. Musky pine scented the air and just a hint of whiskey and mint.
That almost had Erik’s lips twitching. The old man had been gone for months, yet the place still smelled like him. He shouldn’t be surprised. Fifty years in a house meant it wasn’t just a home, it was part of the fabric of a person.
The late-afternoon sun cast a dim glow over the large living area. Memories tried to slip into his head. Memories of the person he was the last time he’d been here. The uncomplicated life he’d led. It was only eight years ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Because that man had been another fucking person.
He ran a finger over his brown leather couch. Movers had been here earlier in the day, getting his shit loaded into the place. The house still didn’t feel like his. Why his grandfather had left it to him, he had no fucking clue. Maybe to get him back here? Back in Redwood. Back with his family.
Family…the word felt heavy. Like a rock on his chest that pressed and weighed him down until he couldn’t suck in a single full breath.
He dropped his bag, the thud whipping through the silent room like a bullet.
Every corner of this house held a memory. Holidays with family. Playing with his brother and sister. Eating around the large table.
A collection of moments, each running into the other and painting a picture of his childhood.
He lifted a framed photo from the fireplace, one of the few belongings of his grandfather’s that remained. He stared at his fourteen-year-old self, standing between his younger brother and sister. The teenager who smiled back was happy. Had dreams of becoming a Marine, joining the special operations community.
He had no idea of the evil in the world. The fucking torture that was to come.
The ringing of his phone cut through his thoughts. He pulled it from his pocket, not surprised to see Chandler’s name on the screen. Chandler wasn’t just the tech guy who helped him with jobs. He’d also become a friend. A right-hand man. Barely a day passed when they didn’t talk.
“Was wondering how long it would take for you to call,” Erik said quietly, running his finger over the dusty mantel.
“Well, when I saw you were in Redwood, I almost fell off my fucking chair. You’re not supposed to get there until Friday.”
His lips twitched. He wasn’t surprised by Chandler’s tone. The guy wasn’t just his eyes and ears, the person who found the information no one else could find, he also dealt with home security—security Erik didn’t have yet.
“I decided to come early.”
“You just decided? Is there even fucking power in the house?”
“I think you need a vacation.”
Chandler let out a slew of curses, which made Erik’s impulsive decision to come up early feel worth it.
“In your line of work, you can’t just up and go whenever you want,” Chandler barked. “You need a security system in place. We need to vet the neighbors.”
“I’m on four acres,” he said, moving toward the window at the side of the house. “The only house within sight is an old piece of shit that no one would ever—”
What the fuck?
What had always been a falling-down shack that resembled a pile of rotting wood was now a house.
“I have a neighbor.” For as long as he’d been alive, that house had been deserted. Hell, he and his siblings used to pretend it was a fort and play in it.
“See,” Chandler barked, laptop keys dinging in the background. “Should have given me some damn time to look into things.”
“I want a full background check on whoever lives there.”
