Page 25 of Little Twisted Things

Bethanny had no idea that I’d overheard the conversation between her and her friend, which was perfect for what would come next. He cheated on her years ago, vowed to never do it again, and years later, ended up breaking that vow. He needed to be punished for his sins.

12

Alex took me to Dorada for dinner, where we sat at a table by the water and enjoyed some great food. My mind wasn’t on the conversation we were having. It kept drifting to Lawrence Gearheart.

“Earth to Dahlia,” Alex snapped his fingers.

“What?” I snapped out of my thoughts.

“You looked like you were a million miles away. Am I that boring?” A smirk crossed his lips.

“Don’t be silly.” I laughed. “I was just thinking about the painting I bought today at the gallery, and you’re going to help me hang it when we get back to my house.” I smiled.

“Game on. I happen to be a master at hanging artwork.”

“Oh really?” My brow arched.

“Well, maybe not a master, but I can hang art. I’d be happy to help.” He grinned.

“By the way. I keep meaning to ask you. Am I ever going to meet your parents? They’ve been on their trip for months.”

“Funny you should ask that. My mother called me today. They bought a house in Hilton Head and are moving there permanently.”

“Really? But they have to come back here to pack up their house, right?”

“My parents are so wealthy, they hire people to do that for them. She told me they already arranged for a company to pack up the house and ship everything to them. They’re going to keep the house but rent it out. She was thinking of turning it into an Airbnb for tourists. But don’t worry. We’ll fly to Hilton Head when they get settled and visit. She’s dying to meet you.”

“What about FaceTime?” I asked.

“My mother despises FaceTime. She said it makes her look too old.”

I laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yep. My parents are very old-fashioned. They don’t believe in today’s technology or any form of social media.”

Alex paid the check, and we headed back to my place. I walked over to the painting leaning against the wall and unwrapped it.

“Yikes. That’s the painting you bought?” Alex asked.

“Yes. You don’t like it?”

“It’s kind of creepy, Dahlia.”

He tucked his hands into his pants pockets. “But yet, I can’t stop staring at it.”

“Ha!” I pointed at him. “That’s the beauty of this painting. It draws you in, and you can’t explain why.”

Alex and I hung the painting on the far wall in the living room. It felt good to have it back. Alex hooked his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “It’s still creepy.”

“Stop it.” I laughed.

“You’re thinking about him again.”

“I know.” I gripped the sink and lowered my head.

“You’ve already decided.”

I slowly lifted my head, and my eyes met hers in the mirror. Black skirt, cream blouse, wire-rimmed glasses, dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, and an old book clutched to her chest. The Librarian.