The Demon Trappers: Foretold by Jana Oliver Read Free Book Online Page B

you.
    Beck glared at the couch. That damned plaid thing was still there, mocking him. He could remember Sadie sprawled on it during her many drunken stupors and most of the time she wasn’t
alone. He made a mental note to burn the thing the moment she was gone.
    He pulled his eyes away from it and scanned the rest of the room. Nothing much had changed though the ashtray was empty, full of candy wrappers now. Maybe if he’d cut off the money for the
smokes sooner she wouldn’t be dying.
    When Sadie was younger and owned a car, she’d spent her time at one of the bars in St Mary’s or down in Florida. Sadlersville didn’t have any watering holes, but that
hadn’t kept her from being a full-time alcoholic.
    There was a deep frown on Riley’s face now, telling him she didn’t like what she was seeing.
Damn, girl, why didn’t you stay in Atlanta?
He felt naked, like he’d
stripped off all his clothes and she was seeing every one of his flaws.
    ‘You lived here as a kid?’ Her voice quavered.
    ‘Yeah. My granddaddy bought the house for Sadie when she got pregnant with me. I think he hoped she’d settle down, get married. Stop drinkin’.’ He shook his head.
‘Just wishful thinkin’.’
    Riley paused to peer into the rundown kitchen and then moved into the hallway towards the two bedrooms. She halted at the second one.
    ‘Was this your room?’
    He nodded. At least when he was older and someone finally gave him a bed. When he was a kid, he’d sleep on the bathroom floor, on top of the dirty clothes, because it was the warmest room
in the house. But Riley didn’t need to know that.
    ‘I had a Chris Hemsworth poster too,’ she said, smiling in recognition. ‘He made a totally hot Norse God.’
    Beck mumbled his agreement. He’d left the poster behind when he’d gone up north. He could have taken it with him, but there hadn’t been time to pack much. For some reason Sadie
had never pulled it down.
    ‘I thought he was kinda cool,’ Beck said. Maybe it was because the guy was strong, good-looking, in control of his life. Everything he’d never be.
    Riley returned to the kitchen, took off her jacket and laid it across a chair. When she checked out the sink, she grimaced at what she found.
    ‘Sorry,’ he said.
    ‘Not your fault,’ she replied, and turned on the water. ‘What are you going to do with the house once . . .’
    ‘Sell it, I guess, once I get it cleaned out.’
    ‘I’ll help you,’ she said, then began moving dirty dishes out of the sink on to the counter.
    ‘Riley, I . . .’
    She turned towards him, her hands dripping. ‘It’s not that bad, Beck. A little messy, but not horrible. It’s just so . . . sad, you know?’
    He knew what she meant and it had little to do with dishes. The place had never been full of love like her family’s house. Even after Riley’s mom had died, her dad had made sure
their tiny apartment was a home.
    Beck had no idea what that was like. Once he knew Sadie didn’t care about him, he’d made his own life, separate from hers. He never stepped away completely – he couldn’t
do that – but he tried to insulate himself from her as much as possible. She always found ways to hurt him.
    He scooped up a pile of mail off the couch, took it to the kitchen table and spread it out. He’d like to think it was because that was the best place for the sorting job, but in truth it
had something to do with being closer to Riley.
    Beck laid his jacket over hers and then pulled out a chair and sank into it. As Riley placed the clean dishes on a towel on the counter top, she hummed to herself. The song sounded like one of
Taylor Swift’s tunes. He couldn’t help but smile.
    Out of habit he studied each envelope, hoping that one might be
the one.
He’d always dreamed of getting a letter from his father and when he was a kid he ran to the mailbox every
day as soon as the mailman came by. He was never sure that Sadie might not burn any message from that