Loss, a paranormal thriller Read Online Free PDF

was ten years ago.  It was the last property not annexed to the state park."
    "Like an island in the forest sea," Angie said, relaxing back into his arms.  She felt warm, relaxed, safe.
    "Exactly.  That's how I've thought of it.  The park dates back to the 1930s and the Civilian Conservation Corps.  At the time, dozens of other homes existed inside the boundaries, but as the properties came on the market, the state bought them.  All but this one.  I'd heard through the grapevine that the Winchells were moving and would sell the property.  I stepped in before it became public knowledge.  By the time the Gazette ran their story, I had an agreement in principle with the Winchell's family."
    "Sneaky, aren't we?"
    "I was barely out of college and didn't know what I was going to do with my life--well, I always knew I was going to work with my brothers, but that's a job, not life, you know?  I didn't know what I wanted, but I knew I wanted to live here, surrounded by nature, and without the threat of bulldozers rumbling in to tear it all down.  The house has been vacant since the Winchells moved away--all I've done in that time is basic maintenance.  I started tearing down the old plaster the week I met you."
    "That's presumptuous of you."
    "No, just hopeful."  He kissed her slowly, lingering.  "Let me show you around."  He stood, unashamed of his nakedness.  She watched him pull on his boxers and jeans.  He offered his hand and helped her to stand. 
    She draped the picnic blanket around her.  "Let's see what I'm getting myself into."
    "Here," he said, waving his hand through a long arc.  "This open space--there used to be a dining room there, and a sitting room, there.  I tore down the walls to open it up to a great room.  Maybe not as great a great room as Bryce's."
    "I can picture it."
    "Can you picture a fireplace with a sixteen foot mantle going in on this wall?  Fletcher's going to do the work when I'm ready for it.  And there's going to be three skylights, which I'll do myself."
    "Paul, your dream is wonderful."
    "But it wouldn't be complete if you weren't here to share it with me."
    "Stop, you're going to make me cry again."
    He kissed her forehead, and one tear did slip down her cheek.  She couldn't remember ever being so happy, had never imagined the possibility.
    "You're an angel, you know that?"
    At hearing his voice, Angie felt herself floating, drifting away from Paul's touch, from the warmth of their future home, from the possibilities of a shared love and life.
    Angel, what would I ever do without my Angel?
    She looked down and saw herself standing with Paul, felt the distance looming, felt a growing emptiness.
    She heard Paul's voice, but the figures below her were no longer moving, had become as inert as statuary.  His warm timbre sent a shiver through her: "And this, this is heaven."
    Her stomach dropped and adrenaline lanced through her heart.
    She blinked several times, her feeling of disembodiment dissipating.  Paul stood to her left, smiling at her.  He took her hand, concerned. 
    "Something wrong?"
    "No.  Just a weird feeling."
    They were now standing on the balcony off the great room.  Behind them, inside, a wall of empty bookshelves framed the French doors leading to the second story view.  This was Paul's heaven.  While inside the home was his refuge, the balcony, with its idyllic and breathtaking backdrop, was his heaven.
    She turned to look at the doors, and though they should have been illuminated as bright as day, they stood in the depths of midnight darkness.  She heard a sing-songy voice coming from the darkness on the other side:  Angel, love my Angel... Paul's voice.  Drunk and slurry-thick.
    She squeezed Paul's hand.  "Did you hear that?"
    "Hmm?" he said, staring at the old growth forest, the rugged hills, the dirt trail leading deeper into the wilds that had been honed from the wood by his endless miles running.
    This is my dream.  
    Once again she heard