Page 143 of The Devil We Know

It takes a bit of time, but eventually, Tony yells, “Think I got something.”

Declan and I run over there, and at first, it appears as if he's standing in front of just another line of trees and underbrush. But then he steps back, pulling a few branches with him, and clear as day, there's a path. “It's not color-coded, but I think it'll do.”

Declan takes off toward the golf cart while Tony and I stand here and wait. I don't know about Tony, but there's no fucking way I'm turning my back on this newfound path for fear it will vanish into thin air.

It doesn't take long for Declan to drive the cart back to us, and he immediately vacates the driver's seat, sitting in the back bench seat, giving us an impatient look.

Tony gets behind the wheel, and I maneuver the tree branches out his way and then take shotgun, bracing myself for what I know will be a wild ride because Tony drives a golf cart like he drives any vehicle—as if he has nine lives and hasn't already used up eight of them.

I hold on for my life, but Declan sits in the back, allowing himself to slide back and forth and be jostled around haphazardly.

We come to a steep incline. Tony slows considerably, and about halfway up the hill, Declan exclaims, “There's a fucking cooler back here.”

I twist around, frowning at his statement, but sure enough, he starts pulling beverages from beneath the seat. He hands me a bottle of water, which is so cold that it immediately starts to sweat, and my incredible thirst squashes any hesitation I have about drinking this magical cold water.

Tony also grabs a bottle, immediately cracking it open and holding it in the air. “Fuck it.”

If nothing else, I don't believe the girls would be intent on poisoning us at this point in the game, but there's always that tiny sliver of not really understanding what's happening that has me swallowing it with a cringe.

The three of us finish the water and then relax some when we hit the crest of the hill with no ill effects. We follow the winding path along a flat area, circling a large rock embankment, which is obviously in the middle of a landscaping project.

Tony stops the cart so abruptly that I'm thrown forward, barely managing to put my hands out in front of me to prevent my face from colliding with the dash.

“What the fuck, Tony?” I sputter.

He doesn't reply, and I glance over him to see him staring wide-eyed straight ahead. Slowly, I turn my head to see what the fuck the problem is, only to be met with what looks like a giant construction project.

There's a finished building farther back in the corner, moderate in size compared to what some of us are used to but certainly big enough for the pickiest person to be happy with.

There are other large buildings scattered across the property, each at a different stage of construction.

After another moment, Tony starts the cart and heads to the finished building. Tony's speed is much slower than it had been previously, allowing us to take in some of the surroundings, and that's when I notice something along the perimeter, which I point out as I ask, “Do you see that?”

Tony and Declan turn in the direction I'm pointing, and Tony nods. “Perimeter fencing. Big time, too, if that barbed wire is any indication.”

“Do you think it's a cult?” Declan asks quietly.

I shake my head, my hands coming up in front of me helplessly. “I have no fucking clue, but this seems a stretch, coming from three women who have basically spent every waking minute with us.”

Once Tony stops the cart directly in front of the finished building, I hesitate to move. Tony and Declan have no such hesitation, and they both leap from the cart, running halfway up the stairs before Tony turns and gives me a dirty look, motioning for me to hurry.

Begrudgingly, I remove myself from the cart, trotting over and catching up with them just as they hit the door.

Tony grasps the two large handles and pulls them back. “Watch out.”

Declan and I step back, allowing him room to open the doors fully, and then the three of us stand there, staring into a large room that is obviously a centerpiece of the building. The entire back wall is glass windows, and the large room sparkles with natural sunlight.

Large sliding doors open out into the back, and the three of us walk there, standing in the open doorway, staring off into the impeccably landscaped backyard.

Movement in the distance catches my eye, and a man appears on the horizon, walking toward us, but I don't recognize him from here. I elbow Tony, motioning in that direction, and he looks over there, at first squinting and then frowning. “Is that Ryan Gray?”

I cock my head, the name being kind of familiar, but at first, not placing it. Then it dawns on me that Ryan Gray was the man who treated Carolina way back in California when she was injured.

Unease bubbles up inside me, and I feel that sharp pain where grief and hope collide.

I take off down the stairs, booking it up the hill, not quite running but on the verge. Ryan doesn't slow when he sees me; he just keeps on walking at the same slow pace, but then he stops, turning and looking behind him as he speaks to someone still on the other side of the hill.

Slowly, a seemingly familiar head appears in my line of vision but then, just as quickly, dips down out of sight. Two loud gasps behind me tell me I wasn't seeing things, that it wasn't a mirage or a figment of my imagination.

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