I Knew You Were Trouble - Cassie Mae Page 0,16

I’m even here is laughable. When I told Maddie I found a holiday job that worked with my Troublemakers schedule, I lied through my teeth about the details. Luckily she didn’t ask too much about it once I told her how much I’d have by the end of the month.

When I agreed, it wasn’t until I got home that I realized I didn’t know what the hell I was going to teach her. Candace, of course, being Candace, sent me a color-coded spreadsheet of all her fears at exactly 9:30 this morning. Printed out, the thing was four pages.

The list is jammed into my saddlebag, folded into quarters, probably getting a little water-logged. She sent me a PDF, too, though, so if I have to, I can look it up on my phone. Knowing her, she probably printed out her own copy, laminated it, and stuck it on the fridge next to a packet of “You got this!” stickers.

I chuckle at the thought, the road turning back to freshly paved asphalt. Through the light snow and the slight fog on my goggles, I see an ivy-covered gate with a decorative family emblem in the center.

Uh… do I knock? Is there a button somewhere? I pull the bike up and dismount, my muddy boots creating tracks across the road.

The gate extends out to a thick wooden post. Carved in the wood are intricate designs—horses, horseshoes, cowboy hats… that kind of thing. Someone’s got money for such a customized gate. Well, and I guess the house too that I still can’t see.

After searching through the overgrown, dying ivy, my fingers finally slip over an intercom button.

“Hello?” Who the hell knows if I’m supposed to talk, but I do it anyway. I’ve only seen these things in movies. I jut my gaze upward, searching for a camera.

Snow falls against my forehead, and I use my covering to wipe it off.

Nothing. No answer, not a camera—that I can see—and no sign of life. I scratch at the back of my head, reaching under my helmet to get the itch, then pull my phone out.

Hey, I’m here, I text to Candace, then settle on my bike. She answers immediately.

I live in the guest house. You can park there.

Uh… okay… Maybe her family doesn’t own this massive property, and a twinge of relief hits me squarely in the chest at the thought. I hate to admit when I’m jealous as hell, but my face was turning greener and greener the longer I stood in front of this gate.

The front gate is locked. Is there a way around?

I straddle my bike and pull up my face covering while I wait. My phone buzzes at the same time as a creak echoes across the road.

Sorry, I forgot! Opening it now.

The creaky gate opens in the middle, swinging inward. The crest splits in half, leaving the horse engraved in the iron headless on one side and bodyless on the other.

I slip my phone away and start the bike up, breathing heavy as I take the long, winding driveway into the property. This feels straight up out of a crime show, and I would probably be more worried if it wasn’t Candace who invited me here.

I pass a massive farmhouse with a wrap-around deck, assuming it’s the main house. But when I get farther up the road and see the humongous mansion, I turn back around.

Candace is out on the front deck, pacing its length. She has no coat on, so she’s rubbing her hands up and down her arms and talking to herself through chattering teeth. I hold back my amusement as I dismount, dig out her long list, and shove it into my back pocket. I hope she’s okay that I parked close so I can get some of that porch cover for my bike. Not really feeling ready to pull out my tarp.

“Hey,” I say, and her wide eyes flick up. She gives me a barely there wave.

The deck is made out of that same quality wood that’s surrounding the place. There are no carvings, but there are several wind chimes making a hell of a lot of noise.

“Probably should go inside, yeah?” I tease over the tinkling chimes.

She rolls her eyes. “You think?”

“Well, hello to you too.”

She passes me, still rubbing her arms like she’s trying to catch them on fire. “Sorry,” she says through chattering teeth. “There’s just… There’s a spider in there.”

“Oh no, what’ll we do?”

“Shut up. The thing is huge. Probably on holiday