Twisted Hate (Twisted 3)

JOSH

“You’re in a remarkably good mood.”Clara cocked an amused eyebrow as I signed out from my shift. “Does the reason begin with a J and rhyme with rules?”

“Cannot confirm or deny,” I said, practically whistling.

Last week’s burglary aside, I’d had a damn good week. I’d put Michael behind me, Alex and I were on our way to being real friends again, and work had been relatively easy. For the ER, that meant no patient deaths and no mass casualty incidents, though there had been a nasty case involving an idiot with a blowtorch.

Plus, Jules’s bar exam was next week, which meant we could finally go on real dates again soon.

I already had our first post-bar date planned: a weekend trip to New York to see a special limited-time revival of Legally Blonde: The Musical, sandwiched between lots of good food and even more sex.

I’d have to trade shifts again to make the weekend happen, and it was expensive as hell on a resident’s salary, but Jules deserved it. Getting through the bar was a big deal.

“Fine. Don’t tell me, but I can guess.” Clara rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “One of these days, you’ll have to confirm your relationship, or the other nurses won’t stop hounding you about dating.”

“I’ll confirm after you admit your relationship with Tinsley is serious.” I smiled at her scowl. She’d been dating Tinsley for months and still refused to make it official. And people said I had commitment problems. “That’s what I thought.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Chen,” she said pointedly.

I laughed and waved before I left.

I’d scheduled drinks with Alex for tonight, but that wasn’t for another four hours. I had time for a shower and a quick nap, maybe a bit of New York research. I read about a dessert place there that reportedly served incredible salted caramel ice cream.

I typed in the security code when I arrived at my house and pushed the door open. One of the first things I did after the break-in was install a home security system. Alex recommended it, so I assumed it was good.

Well, it was the tenth one he recommended. The first nine were expensive as shit, but at least this one cracked his top ten.

I was already half asleep by the time I finished my shower, but the sound of the doorbell jolted me awake.

I threw on a pair of sweatpants and answered the door. Pleasant surprise filtered through me when I saw Jules standing on the front step.

“Hey, Red.” I greeted her with a cocky grin. “Can’t stay away from me, huh? Don’t blame you.” I gestured at myself. “Look at all this.”

I was still shirtless from the shower, and I didn’t want to brag or anything, but my abs were a fucking work of art.

“If I knew you had company, I would’ve waited,” she said dryly. She was carrying a large portfolio bag, which was strange, since she didn’t draw. Maybe she went shopping earlier. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your weekly lovefest with your ego.”

“Daily,” I corrected. “Self-love is critical to maintaining one’s self-esteem. But you’re hot, so you’re allowed to interrupt.” I drew her inside and kicked the door closed behind us before planting a kiss on her lips. “Here for a study break?”

“Um, sort of.” Jules tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unusually nervous.

“Well, don’t take too long of a break. As happy as I am to see you, I want you to kick ass on this exam.” Anticipation zipped down my spine. “I have a surprise for you after it’s over.”

“Can’t wait.”

I frowned at her subdued response. Normally, she’d be hounding me about what the surprise was until I caved. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I have something to tell you.” She drew in a long breath without meeting my eyes. “It’s about the painting the burglar stole.”

“Okay...” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not making me buy that painting we saw online the other day, are you? The one of the dogs playing poker? Because it’s cool and all, but there must be a thousand other people who own it.”

“No.” Her laugh sounded forced. “Actually, it’s a funny story. I have the painting. The one you’re missing.”

Confusion drew my brows together. “You found a print of it?”

“No.” Jules fiddled with her bag. “The real thing. The one stolen from your room.”

My smile slipped, and foreboding settled over my skin like a layer of frost. How the fuck did she get the painting when the police couldn’t even find a lead?

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Jules slowly unzipped the portfolio bag and withdrew the painting.

I stared at it blankly.

There it was, in all its brown and green glory. I’d never realized how condescending it was. The painting smirked at me, its taunt a singsong voice in my head.

I know something you don’t. And you’re not going to like it when you find out...