Page 46 of Beautiful Revenge

Twist my arm.

There’s no one behind us, so I slow the Jag to a crawl. “Where to?”

She points the opposite way of the manor. “Take a left. It won’t take long, I promise.”

As if I give a shit how long it will take. She’s speaking to me again. I’ll do anything to keep that going and follow her directions. “Where do you want to go?”

She scans the wooded landscape like she’s searching for something to jump out of the woods at us. “Another mile or so ... I think. It’s been years. Then take a right.”

The road turns to gravel. The last thing she seems worried about is her new car getting a paint chip. Our path narrows and the single lane becomes bumpier as we go. Grass and weeds grow up through the rough path, proving I’m not the only one who had no idea this road was here. “You purchased the wrong auto for off-roading.”

“You have a point.” Harlow leans forward, like she’ll see anything other than the thick forest. “We’re almost there.”

I slow to a stop and look down the lane where she wants me to turn. “You’ll scratch your new Jag to hell. What’s down there?”

“Never mind,” she mutters and reaches for the handle. “I’ll walk.”

“Wait,” I call, but she’s already out the door. I kill the engine, climb out, and look around. There’s no one in sight. I have no idea where she’s going, but I’m not about to let her wander into the woods on her own. I round the hood of the car to catch up to her. “I’m usually up for a hike, but a little warning next time so I can come prepared.”

She’s on a mission and doesn’t slow. “You can wait in the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Where the hell are you going?” I demand and catch up as she hurdles a fallen tree.

“I don’t need you to follow me, Devon,” she insists.

“If you’re not going to tell me where you’re going, I’ll be forced to stalk you.”

“That’s...” She pauses before finally throwing me a glance. “Slightly creepy.”

“Yeah? You’re the one throwing up red flags left and right since you walked into my manor. And I’m only being slightly sarcastic.”

“Like you’re one to talk. You still haven’t told me how you tracked down my father when no one else can find him.”

A smile tugs at my lips as we hike downhill and around a bend. “Consider us even.”

When she comes to an abrupt halt, I stop by her side. I don’t know if she’s talking to me or herself when she mutters, “I can’t believe how run down it is.”

Fuck. She’s not wrong. Through the thick brush and trees stands an old Victorian. It’s not small. In fact, the house makes the woods feel less eerie, which says a lot given the state of the house. The paint is chipping, and the front door stands ajar. But the most blaring thing about the place is the police tape blowing in the light, midday breeze with an askewno trespassingsign dangling by one nail. “You knowthis place?”

“Like the back of my hand. I feel like I grew up here even though it was just a week or two every summer.”

I look away from the shitshow of a structure and turn to her. “Your grandmother lived here?”

She stares at the broken-down house as pain bleeds through her features. “A long time ago. It didn’t look like this when it was hers. She sold it right after my mom died. She said it was painful to be here knowing her daughter would never return to visit. I was young. You’d think my father would’ve had the forethought to buy it so I could have it when I was older, but he never considers sentimental things like that. Grandma struggled to take care of the house and land by herself. She moved to town and lived there for the rest of her life. I haven’t seen this place in years.”

I glance back at the structure that’s seen better decades and can’t imagine Harlow Madison anywhere near this place, let alone growing up here. “It’s been through some shit.”

“It’s worse than they described and the pictures. I bet they were afraid to scare me off.”

“Scare you off from what?”

She lets out a tentative exhale. “From buying it.”

“Wait. You own this place?” I ask.

“Not yet. The previous owners went into foreclosure. I made an offer to the bank. It was a very generous offer now that I’m here to see it in person, but I had to make sure it was mine.” She glances back at the house. “You weren’t kidding when you said it’s been through some stuff. The back taxes were so high, no one local wanted to take it on. It’s a mess, but I’m grateful it’s mine.

“You bought this place before the wedding?”