Page 8 of Little Twisted Things

Memories of us crouched in the corner as our mother stabbed our father twenty-two times played in my mind. The screams, the blood, the anger. It all ignited the raging fire inside me. Most people saw affairs as broken vows. Not me. I saw them as calculated choices, with every lie requiring another to bury the truth, until the truth suffocated them. Kevin had made his choice. Now, I had to simply decide when. He was leaving on Sunday morning. It had to be done before then.

I saw every text and every picture the two of them exchanged. He was meeting her at her house on Friday night, telling Kris he was going bowling with his friends. It would be easy because Alex told me he had to go to Miami for the weekend to pick up some rare editions of literature books he ordered. He wanted me to go with him, but I had to decline since I was working at the gallery all weekend.

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” His hands gripped my hips.

“I would love nothing more. But how would it look if I asked Tess for the weekend off when I just started there?”

“I suppose you’re right. But next time, you’re coming along.”

“Deal.” I smiled, kissing his lips.

I’d nestled myself on the floor of the second row of his SUV. Kevin hummed along to the radio while one hand gripped the steering wheel. He never looked back. People rarely did. They always assumed danger came from in front of them. I waited until we reached the stretch of highway that was bordered by mangroves before sitting up. My movements were enough to make him look into the rearview mirror. His eyes met mine.

“What the⁠—”

“Keep driving.” I held the knife to his throat.

“Dahlia?” His hands tightened around the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.

“Take the next right,” I said.

“I—I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t.”

“Listen. Whatever this is⁠—”

“The state park is up ahead. Pull in.”

He obeyed my command. Fear had a way of making people cooperate.

Neither of us said a word as the road leading to the state park narrowed. After thinking about it, Kevin finally spoke.

“Is this about Rachel?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“So you admit there’s a Rachel.” I softly laughed.

“I can explain. Please, Dahlia. Let me explain.”

“Men like you think they can,” I said.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen. I swear.”

“No?” I asked.

“It’s just—” he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“All you had to do was tell Kris you wanted a divorce.”

The SUV pulled into the state park. The same place the news spent days talking about. The same place where that young girl was found.

“What are you going to do to me?” Kevin asked, staring through the windshield, his hands trembling against the steering wheel.

“What every affair eventually demands,” I said.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell Kris about the affair. I’ll tell her I want a divorce.

His phone screen lit up with a text from Rachel.