Chapter 35
Salem
It had been long enough, and I was more than showing. I couldn’t hide the swell of my belly anymore. And the reality of everything hit harder each day, I started wondering what the hell our plan was. How we’d juggle a baby with two clubs and two lives that were anything but ordinary.
One evening, I was at the Roost, stocking the bar, when Heresy showed up out of nowhere. He swaggered in as if he was the boss, which got a few groans from my sisters, but they were used to him at this point. As for me... seeing him walk toward me always made my heart skip a beat. It never got old.
He didn’t say much. Just a smirk and a, “Get your stuff. We’re going out.”
I arched a brow, not in the mood for surprises, especially being this pregnant. “Where are we going?”
“Trust me,” he said, holding up a blindfold. “You’ll see.”
I sighed, but something about the glint in his eye told me this was one of those moments where I should just go along with it. So, I did. I let him wrap the blindfold around my eyes, and then he helped me into his brother’s truck—thank the Goddess it wasn’t his bike. Riding on the back of a Harley while pregnant was one thing, but blindfolded? No thanks.
The ride was quiet, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional touch of his hand resting on my leg. Where the hell was he taking me?
Finally, we came to a stop. “Stay here,” he murmured before getting out of the truck. I heard the door open, and then his hands were guiding me away from the vehicle.
I was still blindfolded. “Heresy, seriously, where the hell are we?” I asked, my nerves getting the best of me.
He chuckled. “You’re about to find out.”
He untied the blindfold, and I blinked against the dim light of the evening. When my vision cleared, I froze.
We were at the haunted house.
But it wasn’t the same crumbling, eerie structure I remembered. It looked... different.
The windows were intact, the porch had been rebuilt, and the front yard wasn’t overgrown with weeds anymore. Instead of the cold, ominous vibe that used to hang over the place, there was warmth. Lights glowed from inside the windows, and the smell of wood burning filled the air.
“Heresy... why the hell are we here?” I inquired, folding my arms over my chest, as I felt a panic coming on.
He stepped beside me, hands in his pockets, watching my reaction. “I bought it.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You... bought the haunted house? Why would you—Is this where you’ve been all the time?”
He cut me off, his voice firm. “Because this is where we beat that curse, Salem. If there was ever a curse at all. You didn’t burn, the house didn’t burn, well, not completely, and we’re together. And I’m not gonna let anything—my club, a haunted house, or even some made-up witch bullshit—stop me from being with you. Not now, not ever.”
His words totally knocked me out.
I turned, taking in the house again, and this time, I saw it differently. There was something almost poetic about it. A place that had once held fear and danger for us was now being transformed into something... more. Something for us.
Heresy moved closer, his hand resting on the small of my back. “Come on, let me show you around.”
I followed him up the steps and inside.
The haunted house looked nothing like the crumbling wreck I remembered. The first thing I noticed was how solid it felt underfoot as we walked up the steps. The porch had been completely rebuilt, with sturdy wooden beams that gleamed in the dim light, free of the rot and decay that once plagued them. The front door, which had hung loosely on rusted hinges, had been replaced with a thick, dark oak door—polished, with a brass knocker shaped like a raven.
Heresy had worked magic on the place. The windows, once cracked and clouded with grime, were now clear, shining with fresh panes of glass, and soft yellow light spilled out from inside. No more broken shutters or creepy vines climbing the walls—everything had been cleared away, the exterior cleaned up, giving the place a strange sense of new life.
When we stepped inside, the transformation was even more striking. The front room, where the floorboards had creaked and dust had clung to every surface, was now warm and inviting. He’d sanded and polished the old wood floors, giving them a rich, dark sheen that gleamed in the low light. The walls, once peeling and cracked, were freshly painted in soft earthy tones that made the room feel surprisingly cozy.
To my left, the huge brick fireplace had been restored, its hearth cleaned and a fire flickering. Above it, a hand-carved mantle held some rustic lanterns and a couple of pieces of simple art, nothing too fancy, but enough to make it feel like a real home.
And a room, in the corner, with a bay window, was a space Heresy had clearly designed with me in mind—shelves stacked with books, jars of herbs, candles, and a little desk where I could work my witchy magic.
“I thought you might want to open your own shop,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Sell those things you buy at the farmers’ market. Do readings. You’re always talking about it, and I figured, why not have a place where you can make it happen?”
I turned to look at him, my throat tightening with emotion. He had been paying attention. To all of it.
Heresy was proud of his work, but admitted he didn’t do it alone. His brothers helped. He showed me the rest of the downstairs. It had been gutted and cleaned. He’d left some of the original elements—like the exposed beams in the ceiling that gave it character—but everything else had been upgraded.
The hallways no longer had that eerie, haunted feeling. Instead, they were lined with soft lighting and freshly painted walls, turning the once-dark spaces into something more welcoming. Digging deep, I didn’t feel any negative energy at all.
“You did this for me?” I whispered.
“Of course I did,” he said, his eyes holding mine.
I turned to him, my heart swelling with too many emotions. He hadn’t just restored the house—he’d created a future for us. His intentions were clear, full of love, and had cleaned this place better than I ever could with salt and magic.
Before I could utter another word, I ran to the fireplace and dug in my cut. Taking out the page I’d torn out of that journal, the curse. I tossed it in the roaring fire. He took my hand and led me upstairs. There, the transformation continued.
“It's still a work in progress,” Heresy admitted, his hand gently touching the small of my back. “But I thought we could finish it together.”
We walked into what was clearly the master bedroom—unfinished, with dust on the floorboards. But the potential was obvious. The old, dusty windows were now clean, letting in the faint glow of moonlight. A new bed sat in the center of the room, its simple metal frame contrasting with the raw, unfinished walls, which still bore marks of recent repairs. Tools and planks of wood were stacked neatly in a corner, showing the work still left to be done.
Looking around, I realized that what had once been a house filled with darkness and fear was now something else entirely. It was a place filled with possibility, a place that could be ours.
He turned to me, suddenly looking more serious than I’d ever seen him.
Then he dropped to one knee.
My heart stopped as he pulled a small box from his jacket. The energy between us was crazy, and I didn't know what to do with it.
“Salem,” he started, his voice music to my ears. “You’re my witch. I’ve known it since the day we met. And I don’t care about clubs, curses, or anything else standing in our way. I love you. I want you. Forever.”
He opened the box, revealing a ring that glinted in the low light—a silver band with a deep green emerald in the center, flanked by two black diamonds. It was unlike any ring I’d ever seen, dark and mysterious, just like him.
“I want you to marry me. Be mine. Here, in this house, in our life. What do you say?”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the ring, my heartbeat throbbing in my chest. For a second, I was speechless, unable to find the right words. But then, I just blurted it out.
“Yes,” I whispered, a smile breaking across my face. “Yes, Heresy. I’ll marry you.”
He slid the ring onto my finger and stood up, pulling me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine in a magical kiss that sealed the promise between us. A kiss that made everything else—our clubs, the past, this haunted house—fade away.