12. Interesting Stories and Where to Find Them
Ron
The fact that Selene is looking around with so much genuine interest is inflating my ego like crazy. I know, I probably sound like a self-centered, strutting bastard right now, but... I love watching her wander through the halls of my house.
I drop our bags at the foot of the bedroom doorway and just stand there watching her. One shoulder rests against the dark wood trim as I wait for her, already unable to wait to show her our room. If I've figured out even the slightest thing about her... I know she's going to love it.
Right now, though, she’s completely absorbed in the paintings lining the second-floor hallway.
I’m pretty sure they’re portraits of the estate’s original owners.
Knowing Mayor Nino, there’s a very real chance all the weird junk in this place will eventually end up in some tiny town museum, but for now, the paintings fit the whole macabre vibe perfectly.
"I believe she’s the Scarlet Lady."
I push off the doorframe and move to her side, pointing to the large oil painting she’s staring at as if hypnotized. It portrays a woman with sharp features, pale skin, a cascade of raven-black hair, and a deep red gown.
Selene finally tears her gaze away from the canvas and looks at me instead. She studies me in silence, and since I’m enjoying her full attention way too much... I keep talking.
"Her real name was supposedly Elizabeth Dawes," I explain, lowering my voice. "There are a ton of legends about her in this town."
"I didn’t peg you as the kind of guy who’d be into legends," she murmurs. Her tone isn’t sarcastic for once. It’s neutral, threaded with genuine curiosity.
"Are you kidding? I love that stuff." I grin. "I read all the books and journals in the library downstairs."
She keeps staring at me, looking somewhere between curious and surprised. Maybe both.
"It’s a really interesting story. I got so hooked on it that I even cross-checked everything with the town archives. According to the records, she was Elm Hollow’s first female governor."
"Really?" Her lips part slightly. "And... what do the legends say about her?"
It’s the first time she’s seemed this genuinely interested in talking to me without trying to push me away. And, God, I want her to keep going.
"The one that gets told the most goes like this," I begin, slipping into narrator mode.
"Legend says that a long time ago, around the time Elm Hollow was founded, an unknown, brutal plague hit the town.
During that dark period, stories say that paranormal beings roamed the streets and the surrounding houses, bringing death with them.
The town founders eventually decided to fight back, launching a ruthless hunt.
The Scarlet Lady was a respectable young woman who lived on the edge of the forest... so I like to think she lived right here in this house. But she ended up falling deeply in love with one of those beings. A cursed creature."
I pause deliberately.
Selene’s index finger traces absentminded patterns along the gilded carvings of the frame, but I know she’s hanging on every word. A smile tugs at my mouth.
"But when the threat was defeated by the townsfolk and her beloved was torn away from her, she was driven mad by grief and threw herself off the highest cliff in the county. Even today, on moonless nights, they say her piercing scream still echoes through the trees out there,
joining the wail of her beloved, who is said to be chained forever in a magical crypt."
Silence settles between us, thick and almost suffocating.
"Obviously," I add with a light sigh, breaking the tension, "in the short time I’ve lived here before the reality show, I never heard any screams or felt any presence. But... I kind of love that these dark legends are tied to the place where I live."
Selene turns to look at me. The distance between us has shrunk again, almost without either of us noticing. I can smell her scent again—that cold, orchid-like note that fogs my brain.
“Is that why you decided to buy this ranch?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah... that was a big part of it. I love that there’s history breathing through these walls. And I love the old architecture—it’s got that extra gothic edge I’m drawn to.”
She keeps staring at me like she can see right through me. I’m not telling her this to impress her or show off my taste for darker things... it’s just the truth.
“And why did you move to Elm Hollow in the first place? Where were you living before?”
The barrage of questions catches me off guard. I didn’t expect her to start asking me personal things, to get this curious about me, to dig this deep. But, honestly... it makes me ridiculously happy. I don’t have the most exciting past, but I fucking love that she’s interested in me.
“I never really had a permanent place to live,” I explain, stuffing my hands into my pockets to keep myself steady.
“I bounced around different cities, going wherever the work was or wherever I was needed. Then Grant moved here and... at first I just came out of curiosity, to visit him, surprise him a bit. I didn’t want him to—”
I stop. I’m not sure I should say it. But looking into her big, dark eyes, I finish anyway.
“I didn’t want him to give up a place that was finally making him happy just because of me.”
A new expression flickers across her face. I’ve never seen it before. The coldness slips away, replaced by something much softer. She arches an eyebrow, now fully turned toward me, like she’s completely forgotten about the Scarlet Lady and the paintings. Her attention is all on me.
“And why would Grant ever want to leave a place that makes him happy?” she asks, her voice soft as velvet.
I swallow. There’s a lump in my throat I haven’t felt in years.
“We’ve almost always lived in the same city, or at least close by. He... well, he comes across like a tough, unfeeling bear, but I think deep down he was always afraid I’d feel lonely without him.” I shrug, pretending I don’t feel as much as I do.
Her gaze doesn’t leave me for a second. Slowly, she lifts a hand and brushes one of those stark white streaks of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. I’m kind of obsessed with those two white strands against her dark hair—they make her look completely unique.
“And did you ever feel lonely?” she whispers. A second later, she bites her lip and drops her gaze, like she already regrets asking. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
I smile at her, catching her eyes to reassure her.
“Of course not. I’ve got Ollie. I wasn’t lonely at all. I told that idiot already, but... that grump probably figured a Labrador doesn’t really count as company.”
Another smile appears on her lips. This time she doesn’t hold it back—it slips out naturally, sincerely. And yet it’s not a happy smile. There’s a hint of sadness in it.
“And you didn’t have anyone else close to you?” she asks, her voice a little rough. Before I can answer, she quickly shakes her head. “Damn it, I’m prying again. Don’t answer if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Careful there, Queen of Darkness...” I murmur, stepping a little closer. “I might actually melt if you keep worrying about me like that.”
I smile, trying to lighten the mood.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. By now, I’ve learned that’s basically her signature move.
“I don’t mind talking about it with you,” I admit, and I mean it. “I grew up in an orphanage with Grant. We stayed there together. Nobody ever picked us... no one adopted us. So eventually, we just left on our own the day we turned eighteen.”
I watch her as I speak. Her expression darkens, sadness flickering across her eyes, and my instinct kicks in immediately.
I flash her a wide, easy smile, trying to bury the weight of what I just said. Dammit—I hate when people look at me like that. I’ve spent my whole life playing the clown just to avoid pity. Even if it’s her. Especially if it’s her. I don’t want her pity.
“But... seriously, he worries way too much for my taste!” I exclaim, waving a hand through the air in a breezy, theatrical gesture. “I’m totally fine. I’m happy. I’ve got Ollie, I make friends easily wherever I go, and now I even have a haunted ranch.”
I give her my brightest, most open smile.
She just looks at me. Then, slowly, she swallows.
She doesn’t say anything, and I appreciate that she doesn’t try to fill the silence or apologize for something that isn’t her fault.
I shrug, determined to steer us away from this little detour into melancholy and bring back the usual lightness between us.
Whatever ghosts there are, they can stay buried.
Even Ollie seems to pick up on the shift; he rears up on his hind legs, paws on my knees, wagging his tail like crazy as he pushes his snout against me for attention. I scratch him properly behind the neck.
“Well...” Selene whispers, finally breaking the silence, her voice softer than I expect. “For what it’s worth, it seems like you’re doing a great job.”
That catches me off guard, right in the chest. Selene Dusk doesn’t really strike me as the kind of person who gives compliments, so hearing that from her warms something in me.
I smile at her—small, but real.
“Thank you.”
She clears her throat, looking down at the floor for a second before meeting my eyes again, proud and stubborn as ever.
“Well, I mean it. You’ve got loyal friends, Ollie seems really attached to you, and... you’re good at what you do.”
I raise an eyebrow, immediately intrigued and ready to tease her.
“I didn’t know you had the slightest idea who I was or what I do for a living.”
“Well, I put two and two together when you mentioned Grant Ashford,” she counters, lifting her chin with a knowing look and crossing her arms again. “Then I did my research, but... I already knew his manager was really good.”
“You’re going to inflate my ego to dangerous levels, Moon Goddess.” And yeah, she really is. I’m grinning like an idiot on the inside. I step closer, dropping my voice into a teasing whisper. “Careful now. Keep this up and I might start thinking you like me.”
“Oh, please.” She huffs, her gorgeous face twisting into an exasperated expression so dramatic it makes me laugh out loud.
“So,” I say, nodding toward the door. “Care to go see our love nest?”
Selene takes a breath and shoots me a glare, but she’s already shaking her head.
“Willers,” she says as she starts walking, “I officially take back everything I just said about you. You’re a complete idiot.”