Page 9 of Promise of Destruction
I’d once dared to dream of walking through the kitchen barefoot and pregnant, of pushing my children on a tire swing under the big oak in the front yard, of standing on the porch watching the fireflies light up the night while Vin and our kids with their friends chased a soccer ball around the back yard.
Those dreams died the night he did, and now this house is a reminder of my nightmare.
They say when people die violent deaths, sometimes parts of their soul will attach themselves to the place they died. I never believed that until Vin died, and curious little things started to happen.
The speaker in the living room turns on out of random sometimes to play music; Vin knew I never could stand the silence. The coffee pot has turned off mid-brew; He always told me I drank too much caffeine. I’ve stepped out of the shower only to find my towel across the room where I don’t recall leaving it; Vin would take every opportunity to see me walk around the house without clothes, hiding my robe or moving my towel so that he could get a good look and a golden opportunity to pounce.
I’m haunted, in more ways than one.
I could leave. I can afford to sell the house and buy in a new neighborhood. Marissa offered me her spare bedroom when her roommate moved out.
I’ll admit, the first time the music turned on out of nowhere and began playing the song I’d chosen for our first dance, I was more than a little creeped out. I’d called Tony, who was there in an instant to investigate. I chalked the coffeepot up to a short in the circuit, but when I replaced it only to continue to have issues, I realized Vin was somehow still there.
And that was all the reason I needed to stay.
“My car.” I say, coming out of the daze I’ve been in and turning to face Jimmy. “I have work in the morning.”
“Give me the key,” he suggested. “And I’ll have Rob drop it off tonight.”
I nod, fumbling through my purse until my clumsy fingers close on the keyring.
I’ve known Jimmy as long as I’ve known my husband—longer, I guess, since Vin’s been gone for a year now. I don’t hesitate, but I take off the set I need to get into the house.
It takes me a moment to free my other keys from the fob.
As I place it in Jimmy’s hand, I stop, catching his attention. “Why do you think Declan Evers was there?”
Jimmy shrugs, nonchalant. “Why does he do anything? Boredom, maybe? Or he could have a business opportunity for Tony?”
I squint at him under the harsh glow of the dome light, looking for any sign of deception. I find nothing, so I press him a little more.
“Tony told me he didn’t have anything new to tell me, but Evers sure acted like he was there for something specific.”
“Well,” Jimmy scratches his chin. “I mean, maybe he was looking for you.”
When I say nothing in response, he sighs.
“Come on, Soren. You think he’s responsible for what happened to Vin, right?” When I don’t answer again, he prompts me. “Isn’t that what you believe?”
I swallow. “Of course. Who else would it have been?”
I stare at him, looking for any indication that he believes the rumors… any indication that he suspects me.
“I don’t know. But if it really was him, then he tried to kill you, and you survived. Maybe he’s poking around because he wants to finish what he started. Or maybe he’s poking around because you kicked the hornet’s nest.”
I blink, feigning innocence.
“That article? Splashy little bit of writing.”
I square my shoulders against the backrest and consider his words a minute before shaking my head.
“It doesn’t matter. He killed Vin. He tried to kill me. And I’m going to make him pay for it, one way or another.”
I toss the car door open and step out, letting Jimmy’s protests fall into the empty night.
It’s as I step on the grass that I remember I’m barefoot.
The lawn is cool and wet from the sprinklers. I dig my toes into the earth as I stare at the house in front of me, all dark besides the light from the front porch.
Table of Contents
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- Page 9 (reading here)
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