Page 109 of Twisted (Never After)
Someone’s following me.
But it’s difficult to see in the dark, so it isn’t until I squint my eyes that I’m able to make out their features.
She has bright- blue hair and chipped nail polish on her fingernails, holding something in her hands that’s covered in a dark purple cloth.
“You know, stalking is considered a felony,” I yell.
She ignores me, continuing to move closer until she’s standing directly in front of me.
Her eyes glance from me to the cottage on my left and then to the one slightly in front of us, less than a hundred feet away.
“I’ve watched you today,” she says, her voice low enough that I have to strain to hear. “And I needed to get you alone.”
My spine stiffens, and I glance around, suddenly wishing that I hadn’t snuck out without telling Julian where I was.
“And you are?” I question.
“I’m Jeannie.”
Recognition flickers through me, remembering she was the one Aidan was telling me about. “The archaeologist?”
She nods, licking her lips, her hands gripping whatever she’s holding tighter to her chest. She looks around again before she steps in closer, and I stumble back, putting a hand in front of me.
“What do you want?” My voice is sharper now, because seriously, what thefuck?
“I’m the lead on the excavation dig in Kharga.”
“Okay.” I look down at the box in her hands. “And what’s that, Jeannie? A present?”
She glances around her again, anxious energy pouring off her body, her fingers digging into the edges of the box until I’m afraid her nails might split down the middle.
“I found something,” she whispers. “Something that can help you. Aidan told me about what Mr. Faraci is forcing you to do, and I…it isn’tright.”
My head tilts to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I’m the one who texted you.” Another step closer.
Recognition flares through me. “You’re the employee of Julian’s.”
She bobs her head.
“Well, I appreciate that, but it won’t be necessary anymore. I love my husband.”
She barks out a laugh and shakes her head, like she doesn’t believe me.
I look at her closely.Something’s off.“Are you okay?”
Again, she glances around before she maneuvers the covered box she’s carrying to her side and reaches out to grip my arm tightly.
I suck in a breath, but before I can scream or dosomething, her words stop me in my tracks.
“You shouldn’t trust them,” she warns.
My brows rise. “Who?”
“They always talk too loud. Men, you know?” She shakes her head. “They get cocky…messy.”
“Are you talking about Julian?”
