O’Toole House Chapter 28
The day of the demon deal deadline was still a full day where anything could happen. So Gabriella didn’t actually try calling Nick Bana that day, as tempted as she was to do so. Father McEnerney was with him and he had it under control, he’d call if he needed them. But she knew that Bradley was equally distracted all day as they tried to focus on work they could actually do something about right now.
“It was the mold,” he told her for the second or third time as they went over the paperwork for the case, getting as much as possible done before the deadline. “That’s what was making me sick in there. A hundred years’ worth of mold seeping into the cellar.”
“Yeah, you and no one else,” Gabriella said skeptically. “Got it. Hey, how was the other night with Elliot?”
Bradley thought for a second, then laughed. “That motherfucker wanted to report me to Amelia so bad, but he was too scared to,” he said. “I didn’t do anything, I just slept in McManus’s office. So whatever.”
And to make matters worse, the day of the deadline was the day before James’s medical leave was up and he still hadn’t said anything to anyone. So that was two things she was trying and failing not to obsess over until she fell asleep in the pink bedroom much later than she’d hoped to.
Her phone rang at three o’clock in the morning and she bolted awake, heart hammering as she rushed to answer. “Hello?” she greeted, fearing the worst on a few different fronts.
“The deadline lapsed,” Nick Bana said.
Gabriella laughed with relief and sat up. “You’re alright?”
“I didn’t get the stability I hoped for,” Nick said, his voice dull and probably drunk. “For me or for my family. The deadline was one-fifteen, the same time I signed it in college. So it kind of gave this scream, tried and failed to cut my throat, and just left. The priest was there, he blessed the house and that was it.”
Maybe she should ask about that throat-cutting thing, but she’d wait on that. “I’m glad for you.”
He laughed now too, the sound far more bitter than hers. “Melissa won’t talk to me,” he said. “And Sarah talked to a divorce lawyer already. She said she means it.”
Telling him he’d done this to himself wasn’t going to help. “I’m sorry,” she said instead.
“And we can’t keep the house. We can split the proceeds if we can get someone to buy it. But no one is going to want to live there.”
They probably shouldn’t, even if they wanted to. “You could still sell though?” she said. “Maybe the land? Or something?”
“Yeah, maybe. But I wrecked everything.”
She couldn’t disagree with that. “But you’re alive,” Gabriella pointed out. “You got out of a demon deal, that’s so rare.”
“The priest said the same thing,” Nick said. “But I lost my family. And my house.”
“Beats being taken by a demon.”
“Yeah, I guess. The other guys got what they wanted though.”
“They also fucking died.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’ll let you go.”
Yeah, he was hammered. “Good night,” Gabriella said. “We’ll be in touch with the last details.”
“That’s Sarah,” Nick said. “Not me.”
Right, Nick wouldn’t be there. “We’ll talk to you too.”
“Hmm…yeah.”
He hung up without another word and Gabriella fell back against her pillow, letting out a long breath. They’d done it. He was safe. And she could go home again.
There was a text notification from Father McEnerney, sent about an hour ago. He didn’t want to wake her, he said. Nick Bana is free, we’ll talk tomorrow.
It was three oh five and he’d only left at midnight, but she picked up her phone anyway and hit Bradley’s number. It rang twice before he picked up. “What?” he muttered.
“Nick Bana just called. He’s still alive.”
“Shame.”
“I can call Sarah and finish the report tomorrow.”
Bradley’s response could have been a negative or an affirmative, she couldn’t quite tell. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out,” she said. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
She hung up and laid back down, willing her heart rate to settle and trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow, James might be back at work.
