AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Iamgoing to hold you though,” Tyler promised gently. “Long enough and tightly enough to make you glad you didn’t go home to that little ice box on the other side of town.”
Fourteen
LUCA
“This whole thing has to get opened up,” the guy with the hard hat said. He spun the chewed-up end of his ballpoint pen in a slow circle. “Allthe way around.”
I grimaced as the man went back to writing on his clipboard. There was something about him I didn’t like, I knew that for sure, now. Maybe because he’d said that last part with a sort of twisted pleasure.
“I know it sucks,” the other guy conceded. “But unfortunately he’s right. Whatever they used to insulate these walls is long gone. You’d be throwing money away to close them up without rolling in some R-30.”
“Not to mention it’ll never pass inspection,” clipboard-hard hat added.
I sighed, kneeling before the two contractors so I could see for myself. The ‘insulation’, if you could call it that, was nothing more than a fuzzy gray pile at the base of the wall. I sifted my fingers through it for a moment, then coughed in instant regret. I didn’t even know why the one guy had a hard hat on. It’s not like active construction was taking place.
“I can probably save you some money on the drywall,” the taller of the two contractors offered consolingly. “I have three other projects going, so I buy in bulk.”
I eyed him shrewdly. “With three other projects going, I guess I’m in fourth place whenever I need anything, huh?”
Like a true businessman, the contractor shook his head. “That’s not how I operate.”
“Because I’ve got alotof work here,” I added, glancing around. “My buddies and I can do some of it, but for the more detail-oriented stuff I’ll need a professional.”
The men in my house weren’t there because they were the best, and that’s because I couldn’t afford the best. But they weren’t the cheapest, either. They’d quoted fair prices and had honest reviews. They also came highly recommended.
The guy with the clipboard was still a bit of a smug dick, though.
“So was this a family affair?” the other guy asked.
“Huh?”
“The house. Did you inherit it?” He scratched his head. “No offense, but it’s pretty old and beat up.”
“Nah, I bought it this way.”
He glanced around once more, then nodded. “Yeah, well it’s got good bones. The walls look tired and the fixtures might be shot to hell, but the overall structure is sound. Maybe even overbuilt.”
“Overbuilt?”
The man gave an appreciative, almost inner nod. “Yeah. Someone definitely knew what they were doing.”
I hung back as they walked away, letting them tour the house so they could eventually give me a quote. The place was definitely a wreck — I knew that when I bought it. But the price was perfect for what it was: six bedrooms, five baths, wraparound porch. The three story Tudor-style farmhouse sat on six and a half acres, most of which was already cleared. Best of all it was bordered by mountains on one side, and a shimmering lake on the other.
Exactly the type of property Serrano had talked about buying, once his tour was over.
My chin sank, as my thoughts darkened. Memories of Serrano floated in; his goofy ears, his freckles, his eternally-smiling face. Most of the recollections were good ones. They were memories of friendship and service; memories I could call upon for comfort, or whenever I needed to smile.
But sometimes those memories dragged the darker stuff along with them. The images I’d processed more times than I could count. The ones I’d tried filing away, over and over, despite knowing I never could.
Dammit, Mike.
If it weren’t for Serrano, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. In more ways than one.
“Sir?”
The guy with the clipboard was back, and this time without his twisted smile. Maybe I’d misjudged him.
“Luca.”
