Page 19 of Unravel Me

It’s just a house, I mutter to myself again. I climb out of my jeep, trying to balance my phone between my cheek and shoulder while simultaneously grabbing my purse to dig out the house keys the estate lawyer mailed to me. I look up at the aging house and really take it in.

Shit.

Was this place always this creepy looking? Walking up the rocky gravel entryway, I notice the wild lupines that grow in this part of Washington are still everywhere you look. Their vibrant blues, pinks, and purples breathe life into the otherwise dark landscape. Without them, this place would look like somewhere Hansel and Gretel would go to disappear deep in a haunted wood.

I approach the same yellow door that I had so many times before. What was once bright and cheery, masking the shittymemories inside, is now faded and chipping, much like the rest of the place, and matches the memories much better.

“Ivy! Are you even listening to me?” Zoe’s yell pulls me back into the present.

“Yeah. Of course I am. I’m just trying to get into the house with all my shit and talk to you at the same time. Calm yourself down, hussy.”

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.”

“Hear me out, dammit.”

“Spill.”

“You need to find a hot fling while you’re there to help distract you from the crash and burn of your life. It would do you some damn good to be railed by some smoking fine piece of ass while you’re holed up selling that place. Your vagina probably doesn’t even work anymore.”

My mind flicks back to one man in particular that I’m positive I could get lost in.

The one man I’m avoiding.

The one man I don’t want to face.

I push the key into the lock, but it doesn’t click over. Lovely. It’s already unlocked. Fan-freaking-tastic.

The front door creaks and groans as I push it open and take my first steps into what is going to be home for the next few months. It’s eerie being here completely alone and my skin breaks out in goosebumps.

“Ivy Paige!”

“God, Zoe!” I practically yell. “My vagina is just fine, thank you for your concern.”

“They’ll need the jaws of life to pry you open for insertion, Iv. That thing hasn’t been entered in how long now? Shit-for-Brains and his needle dick don’t count.”

“My pink vibrating best friend has been getting the job done nicely, actually. Guaranteed orgasm, and who needs a man when I can get myself there without all the fuss? I’m not about to start complaining about the much easier cleanup either. And you know what? I don’t have to worry about being fucking cheated on by it,” I rant.

I drop my bags onto the tiled entryway floor and take in the large open area in front of me. Everything looks like it was left the same way my parents had it, but is covered in a thick layer of dust. I guess I inherited all the shit in this place too. Maybe I can pay someone a fee to have an estate sale for me to get the place emptied and more cash in my pocket.

I walk through the open entryway and into the expanse of the living room, looking over everything as I go. As I near the hallway that leads to the stairs, I find myself face to face with a very large, very muscular beast of a man heading my way.

I scream as I stumble back, dropping my phone in the process.

“Holy shit balls! What the fuck? Who are you? How did you get in here?”

Goddammit, the front door was unlocked. Fucking great. First moments back in this town and I’m going to die at the hands of Hottie Hulk here. And of course I dropped my phone. Christ, Ivy. Guess calling 911 isn’t a quick option, and it’s not like anyone on the outskirts of town will hear my screams while I’m butchered into tiny pieces or stuffed in a freezer for him to do god knows what to later. I should probably lay off the true crime shows. Going to need to dissect that later if I survive this.

“Are you okay? Jesus,” the beast says in the huskiest male voice I’ve ever heard. He holds his hands out, grabbing my forearms to help steady me.

“You’re not in danger.” He releases my arms and puts his in the air, palms facing me in the universal sign of surrender. Thatdoes nothing to curb my fear given that he is standing in my house.

In the dark.

Alone.

Even if it has been abandoned for a year and a half. Maybe he’s a squatter. Fuck. That’s probably it. Now I’ve got to figure out how to remove a sexy as fuck homeless squatter from my dead father’s nightmare shack and figure out where I’m going to sleep in this town without announcing that I’m back. I don’t know how yet, but I’m determined to stay way under everyone’s radar.

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