Marrying my high school bully

Dexter

The artist I sent for arranged the canvas on a plain table, and then placed the color pallet beside it while I watched Dante closely.

He clamped his lower lip between his teeth, and his eyes kept darting around. I could tell that he was nervous, but I didn’t care. His open display of anxiety got me wondering how I employed him.

My guards were supposed to be fit all the time and able to hide their fears.

“Are you ready?” Luke asked after setting up a little studio in the warehouse.

We were still in the warehouse as we couldn’t afford to go to the hospital because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to go through their draining question-and-answer session.

Wyatt had left already, as his girlfriend kept blowing up his phone with numerous calls. I’d sent a text to Melissa to congratulate her on her new position.

It was the only news that cheered me up after hearing the real truth from Dante.

“Do I have any other choice?” He replied, his finger grazing the plaster that covered his head wound.

“You can start with the description now,” Luke informed him, and I took a chair and sat opposite the both of them. I didn’t want to look at the final picture until he was drawn.

Dante described slowly, while I sat impatiently, stomping my foot silently on the ground. With each adjective that left his lips, I was only reminded of one man.

Two people couldn’t share the same structure of the chin, nose, or even the same shade of eyes.

An hour later, it was all done and I rose to my feet with a tinge of anxiety. But I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t fooling around, so I strode to his table and squeezed his shoulder.

“You’d better be right about every description because I won’t hesitate to punch your face again if the picture doesn’t ring a bell.” I threatened him.

He shrugged my grip off and scowled. “You’ve already held my mother and I to ransom, do you think I’ll be that stupid to lie to you again?” He scoffed.

I ignored his rude reply and finally took a look at the picture.

I stilled, my eyes narrowing into slits as I recognized the familiarity between the person on the drawing and Melissa’s father. It was the same grey hair with the same hairstyle. Even the folds on his cheeks and his brooding eyes.

“William Rogers?”

My body shook with fury upon remembering the last conversation we had about Lorraine.

How could he do this to me when he knew that I’d been relentless in my search for her? Was this why he could tell me point black that she wasn’t kidnapped because he helped her to escape?

I picked up my phone and patted Luke on the back. “Thank you so much for honoring my call, and I’m sorry that I’d have to leave now.”

He passed a glance at Dante who lay on the bed, pretending to be asleep. “I’ll come with you.” He said and I nodded in agreement.

I couldn’t leave the both of them, knowing how desperate Dante was to escape. He could stab him and another death would be on my head.

But I wasn’t stupid enough to keep him holed up without thorough surveillance. I hired some security personnel from Wyatt’s company to help me watch him.

*********

Knocking gently on Mr Rogers’ door was the hardest thing to achieve because of how infuriated I was. What annoyed me further, was how he acted like I was the only one with secrets.

I knocked again and when I got no response, I ended up banging continuously until I saw the knob twisting.

“Good day, sir.” The horrified housekeeper greeted with a visible shiver, hiding the rest of her petite body behind the door.

“I want to see your boss,” I ordered and she flashed a petrified glance at me.

She shook her head, apparently about to tell me that he wasn’t around when I heard his voice. “Oh no.” She cried, but I was beyond reasoning.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go in.” I pushed my way through a bit gently so that I wouldn’t have to shove her to the ground.

I folded my arms as I watched him settle onto one of the dining chairs with his tablet in his hand. The housekeeper quickly ran to him and whispered into his ear, informing him of my presence.

He dropped the tablet and glanced in my direction. His eyes darkened and his face hardened, showing no trace of fear, which was one thing I admired about him.

His fearlessness.

“Where’s Lorraine?” I asked without wasting time and he chuckled.

“It’s rude to appear in someone’s house without permission, and it’s more annoying that you didn’t even bother to greet them.” He tried to scold me, but I’d be damned if I said that I’d listen to his nonsense.

He had already gotten to the middle of the living room, so I joined him there, glaring hard at him.

“That’s not the answer to my question, Mr Rogers.” I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, then counted to ten and continued. “I held you in high esteem because you helped to remove the scales from my eyes, but what I didn’t know is that you are a liar.”

“I don’t care about your idea of me, it doesn’t matter to me.” He huffed and sank into an armchair.

“You saved Lorraine from that accident, didn’t you?” I fired back and he flinched.

A smirk formed on my lip at his reaction. He cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side to evade my gaze. “How do you know that?”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I did my research just like you asked me to, Mr Rogers. I found a witness who watched the whole scene, and he’s going to testify once the case is reopened, but none of that will make any sense if Lorraine isn’t around to see how she’s been vindicated.” My tone had dropped, hoping that I’d be able to get some cooperation through that mild approach.

He sprang to his feet and headed for the door, pushing it open. “Just like you said, I’m happy that you have realized your mistakes and you are working hard to right your wrongs, but I can’t tell you where Lorraine is because I don’t know where she is.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “She ran away after recovering, and since then, I haven’t heard from her, so stop coming to my house because you won’t find her here.”

My shoulders drooped and the energy to continue the debate vanished within me. I couldn’t even tell if he was lying or not, but I wished that he wasn’t because I’d never trust him again.

“If you say so.” I sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry for barging into your apartment. It was rude and I won’t do it again.” I apologized, gave him a backward glance then left.