Lahat ng Kabanata ng Whispers of the Devil: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Julia“It’s… Well, uh–”“Can you imagine it, Julia? The garage will go there, and over here–” He waves his hand to the far side of what looks like it used to be a driveway of some kind, but grass has started spreading through every crack in the concrete. “I’m thinking three, four stories. With a pool, of course.”I cross my arms under my breasts, my heels clacking on the concrete. “I’m not seeing it, Jake.”Jake, my husband, rolls his brown eyes as he turns his back to me and spreads his arms wide. “This is twenty fucking acres, babe. We can’t get this in New Orleans.”“I wanted ocean views.”“Then I’ll cut down some trees, baby. Hell, the Gulf is right out there.” He whirls back to me, giving me that charming, cocky smile that made me fall in love with him three years ago. “I promised I’d build you

TannerI wipe my brow and look down at the scattered, broken power tools lying at my feet. This is the fourth time this has happened in the past month since we started framing. My guys sometimes keep their tools in one of the old outbuildings that survived the fire that destroyed the main house, but lately some strange stuff has been happening. I look up at Jose, my framer, who’s standing with his arms crossed a few feet away. He gives me a shrug. “You check the cameras?” I ask, motioning to the outbuilding–nothing more than a decaying shed that’s probably as old as my grandparents, who are well into their nineties. “Nothing. Not even a raccoon. And the padlock was still on the door.”I run my tongue along my lower teeth. Shit. I nudge one of the drills with my foot. It’s melted, literally. Like someone threw it into a fire. The yellow plastic is now a charred black, and the rest of the tools aren’t in any better shape. I had cameras installed around the property after the second

TannerBailey sings to the radio over the sound of the faucet, her hands shielded by pink rubber gloves dotted with white daisies. Rain patters the windows in the kitchen as I set a few dishes down next to the sink, smiling down at my girlfriend. God, she’s beautiful, and I’m one lucky son-of-a-bitch to have her here. I came home from the job site today to find her in the kitchen up to her elbows in dinner preparations. Cornbread, mashed potatoes with gravy, breaded pork chops, and creamed spinach. I remember the first time I brought her back to my place. I’d offered to cook her dinner to try to impress her, but I only knew how to make spaghetti with sauce from a jar. So, we ate that, and steak. And the next night, at her old apartment, she made me some type of pasta dish with chicken that had me seeing stars and planning our future together. I count my blessings everyday, and she’s always at the very top of that list. “There’s plenty leftover if you’re still hungry.” She grins a

TannerJose and the rest of the crew have been sitting around kicking rocks for days. That’s just how things go, but this house has been the bane of my existence all summer. Once we clear this inspection, work can start up again, but it’s taken weeks to even get to this point. I scan the behemoth of a house, finally able to see the shape taking form. It’ll be beautiful when it’s done, sure. I’ll make certain of that. While I’m not a fan of modern homes, I’ll leave my mark on this one as best I can. It’ll be the best damn modern home in all of Hahnville. Storm clouds funnel overhead as I walk around the house, checking the work we’ve done. It’s fully framed now, thank god. I’ve replaced every single fucking tool since we started building the foundation in the spring. Jake is finally off my ass about the schedule. It sounds like his wife is changing her tune about living here, which means he’s more involved in making this a home rather than a shell made of white and gray walls to sel

TannerI barely slept last night or the night before. Bailey and I spent our weekend holed up in my house navigating a sudden rift that has formed in our relationship. She barely looked in my direction all weekend. Even now, I can barely put into words what happened. One moment, we’d been having sex, and the next moment things got… hazy. Like I was standing outside of my body, watching, unable to stop the series of events unfolding in front of me as Bailey’s eyes rolled back in her head and she was just… out. Out, for several seconds, them came to, screaming and pointing a knife at me. I can’t put my guilt into words, so I’m not going to even try. What’s worse is the fact she spent the last two days trying to apologize to me. It’s safe to say my head isn’t screwed on right today. I step down off the foundation and onto the wide driveway at the old Gregory property and run my fingers through my hair before putting my cap back on. Jose walks into view with his toolbox hoisted over