Twisted Affair: The Complete Series Box Set

by Parker, M. S.

  I opened the closet and all the air was sucked out of the room.

  It was empty. No clothes. No suitcases.

  I staggered over to the bed and sank down on it. I buried my head in my hands. There had to be another explanation. She'd moved to another room. There was a third bedroom at the end of the hall. Maybe she'd decided she preferred the smaller room. Without a private bathroom. That had to be it.

  I shifted on the bed and heard the sound of paper crinkling. I looked down and saw a folded piece of stationary with my name on it.

  Fuck.

  I didn't want to open it or see what was inside, but I knew I needed to do just that. If I didn't read the note, it wouldn't be real and if it wasn't real, then I wouldn't know how to find Livie who was my only way of getting back with Katka.

  I opened it and began to read. It was as bad as I'd feared.

  Blayne, I am sorry to do this through a letter, but I feel that speaking to you would make things too awkward. This arrangement between us is no longer working for me as it is set up. I feel that we would do better apart. I will maintain the appearance of our marriage, participate in whatever family events you require, though I suspect there are other arrangements that you might find more pleasing. Tell your family that I am on a business trip for two weeks. After that time, you may contact me for any family events where I am needed. Thank you for all you have done. I hope our future interactions will be pleasant. Sincerely, Livie.

  I read it again, as if it would change the words or the meaning somehow. It didn't, of course, but this time I caught something. She said “other arrangements,” like she knew something had happened. Something that would've allowed it to appear like nothing had changed in my marriage.

  I ran my hand through my hair.

  I didn't know how, but she knew about Katka and me.

  I laughed, a bark of a sound that held no humor. Of course she knew. Livie was a smart woman. Between me telling her that we'd slept together when she knew we hadn't and then me stopping the comments right after she'd told me she had a twin sister, it would've taken someone a lot less intelligent to not figure it out.

  What I couldn't figure out was why it had taken her so long to leave me. It had been a couple weeks since Livie told me about Katka. Things had been good between the two of us since then. Or at least I'd thought they had. I knew she was good at closing herself off, but for everything to have been an act, she would've needed to be a better actress than I'd thought. Besides, I thought I knew her well enough to know that she hadn't been pretending. We really had been okay.

  What had changed? I wondered. Had she been waiting for us to come to her with the truth? Had we taken too long? Or was there something more to it than what it appeared? After all, she'd written a note instead of talking to me, which didn't really seem like the kind of thing she'd do. She was more of a “let's have it out” kind of person rather than someone who'd hide. Then there was her asking for two weeks before we spoke. I didn't understand that.

  I looked down at the note. Livie's handwriting was pristine, almost clipped, like she didn't want to waste any extra effort writing. It was so like her. Perfection was sort of her thing. I had no doubt she'd spent quite a bit of time on this note, choosing each word carefully until it said no more, no less, than what she'd wanted. Now I had a choice. I could spend my time analyzing everything, trying to read between the lines, or I could disregard Livie's request to wait for two weeks and contact her.

  That choice was easy to make. The other one, however, wasn't so easy. When I called Livie, I could make it all about Katka, claiming that the only reason I called was to get Livie's help with her sister. I hated myself the moment I had the thought. How could I use Livie like that? Call just to ask for her help getting her sister back and then walk away?

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I felt sick and my head was starting to pound. I'd lost the two women I cared about the most in a space of a couple hours. They might be together right now, both having realized the other had left. I didn't know if that meant they would decide to both come back, only one come back, or both decide I wasn't worth the trouble.

  I stood. I couldn't sit around and wait. I'd go nuts. I had to find them. I walked back out into the living room and picked up my phone. I scrolled down in the contacts and looked at the two names for a moment before tapping on Livie's name. While I doubted Katka would answer if I called, I hadn't selected Livie's name for that reason. I picked her because it was the right thing to do. Katka had left because of what we'd done, together. Livie had left because of what her sister and I had done. We had wronged her. I had wronged her.

  The pain in my heart I'd had from the moment I realized what Katka was going to do doubled at the thought of what we'd done to Livie. It wasn't like I'd hurt some stranger. This was Livie. I loved Katka but, in a way, I supposed I loved Livie too. Not the same way, of course. Livie was something else. It wasn't the way I felt about my siblings or any other family members. It was something different, stronger than that, but not romantic, of course. I couldn't understand it, let alone describe it, but that wasn't my primary concern at the moment. My concern was the fact that Livie wasn't picking up her phone. It wasn't a big surprise since she had caller ID and probably didn't want to talk to me. I had just been hoping that her practical side would be stronger than any emotions she was feeling.

  I looked at the time. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to visit the apartment tonight, especially not with both of them there. I needed to give them time to talk, to try to figure things out. But I needed to see them too. I had a brief internal debate and then went into the bedroom to grab a shirt and my car keys. Twenty minutes later, I was parked outside the apartment. I'd texted them both to let them know that I was coming so they could prepare, but I wasn't going to walk away without having the opportunity to say my peace to them both.

  If only I knew what I wanted to say.

  I looked up at the window as I got out of my car and paused. The curtains were drawn, but I couldn't see any light behind them. That was strange.

  I hadn't gotten a response yet from either Livie or Katka, but I went inside anyway. Ten minutes later, I was back at the car. No one had answered when I'd knocked. The trip had been entirely pointless. Either neither was home or they were purposefully ignoring me. While I supposed the second was a possibility, I doubted it. It wasn't like I was some abusive asshole they had to hide from. All they had to do was tell me they didn't want to talk and I'd go away.

  I didn't sleep that night. I didn't even try. I paced and muttered to myself. I wracked my brains trying to figure out what to do next. About three in the morning, I had the brilliant idea to ask the bank for the address of the studio Livie was in the process of buying. I knew the general area where it was located, but that wouldn’t do me any good unless I wanted to walk all around several blocks, knocking on doors and looking like a total idiot. If the bank wouldn't have been open tomorrow at eight, I might've considered the idiot option, but since I could go in for the address first thing, I decided to wait, as much as I hated it.

  Unfortunately, when I got to the studio around nine-thirty the next morning, no one was there. If Livie had stayed there last night, she wasn't there now. I was at a loss. I could call hotels in the area, but I had no way of knowing if the people I talked to would report back to my father that I seemed to have misplaced my wife. I could visit in person and try to pay off people to give me information without reporting back to my father, but that was risking it too.

  By late afternoon, I'd visited the bar where I'd first met Livie, a couple of restaurants and stores near the girls' apartment and a few places near the penthouse. Nothing. It didn't help that I couldn't be specific and I was almost to the point where I didn't care if word got back to my father, if only I could find either of the Dusek women.

  Then a thought came to me. There was one thing I could do. There was a private investigator my father used sometimes, very discreet. He could do things I coul
dn't. I didn't overthink it. There was nothing to overthink. I had to find them.

  Chapter 8

  Blayne

  The next three days were hell. I had to force myself to shower and eat. Even then, I didn't shave and my clothes were wrinkled because I didn't bother to hang them up or anything like that. I could barely function at work and it took everything I had to keep Samuel from figuring out what was wrong.

  I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to last like this, but then, just as I was getting ready to leave for work Wednesday morning, I got a call.

  “Max, what's up?” I tried to keep my voice light even though the sight of his name on my phone had made every part of me tense.

  “I've found something.” The words were flat, not giving anything away. “You need to come see me.”

  “You can tell me over the phone,” I said, confusion and concern dancing as one.

  “No, you need to see this.”

  That didn't sound very good.

  “I'm on my way.” I wasn't about to wait until after work. I'd never be able to concentrate, not when I'd be constantly trying to figure out what was going on. As I headed down to my car, I called my brother and quickly told him that I was taking a personal day. To my relief, he didn't argue or ask for details.

  Thanks to morning traffic, it took me a half an hour to get to the PI's office, every one of those thirty minutes a torture. By the time I stepped into the office, my nerves were strung so tight, I was sure they were going to snap.

  “Mr. Westmore.” Max stood and held out his hand.

  I shook it, repressing the urge to snap at him just to tell me what the hell he had. Instead, I took the seat he pointed to and waited.

  “I did some digging into your girls' past,” he started.

  “I hired you to find where they were now, not where they came from. I already know all about that.”

  Max held up a hand and I stopped.

  “When I started the investigation, some questions started coming up pretty quickly. Questions I needed to look into before I could go any further.”

  He slid something across the desk towards me. I took it and looked down. It was a newspaper clipping, or more accurately, a copy of one. The language wasn't English, but I didn't need to read it to know what it was about. The picture said enough. Two adults, young and smiling, and two identical little girls with curls.

  “That's Livie and Katka,” I said. I smiled as I gently touched each of the faces. I couldn't tell which one was which due to the poor quality, but I didn't need to. They were both special. I looked up at Max. “I'm guessing this is the article about how their parents were murdered, right? Livie told me all about it. What does it have to do with where they are now?”

  “Blayne.” A strange expression crossed Max's face, which was weird since he had the best blank face I'd ever seen. “There was only one survivor that night. Katka Dusek died with her parents.”

  – End of Vol. 4 –

  Twisted Affair Vol. 5

  Chapter 1

  Blayne

  I had to be hearing things. It was the only plausible explanation for the insane statement Max had just made.

  “There was only one survivor that night. Katka Dusek died with her parents.”

  The words echoed in my mind as I stared at the newspaper article on the desk in front of me. I'd hired the private investigator to find the Dusek twins after they'd both left me, each one saying they wanted me to be happy with the other one. My wife, Livie. My lover, Katka.

  Only now, the PI was telling me that Katka was…dead. He was trying to convince me she’d been dead for sixteen years.

  It wasn't possible. I could see her in my mind's eye. Tall, slender, model-gorgeous. Curls the color of caramel. Dark green eyes full of love. I could feel her body, her skin against my palms, the weight of her breasts in my hands. She was real. How could he say she was dead?

  “Mr. Westmore,” Max said my name for the third time. “I know this must be a shock for you.”

  I laughed, a short bark of air that held no humor and slumped back in my seat. “A shock? That's putting it mildly.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I married Livie Dusek. She told me she had an identical twin sister named Katka. That their parents were murdered when the girls were seven. They were raised in an orphanage in the Czech Republic before moving here three years ago.” I listed the facts I knew as if they alone would convince Max of what I was talking about.

  Max put a second piece of paper next to the copy of the newspaper article. “Here's a translation of the article.” He pointed to a sentence he'd circled. “Read it for yourself.”

  I shook my head, not wanting to read it. “How do I know it's a true translation?” An idea popped into my head and I grabbed onto it, desperate for anything that could explain the craziness unfolding before me. “In fact, how do I know that my dad didn't put you up to this? That the two of you aren't just making this whole thing up to fuck with me?”

  In his line of work, Max was used to people yelling at him so my little accusation didn't even phase him. “Feel free to take the article to a translator of your own choosing.” He held out a manila envelope. “But you should probably look at these first.”

  I took the envelope, but didn't open it yet. I had a bad feeling that whatever was in here would change everything. For a moment, I considered putting it down and walk out, forget about this entire situation and try to find Katka and Livie myself. This time I wouldn’t care whether or not my father found out that my wife had left me.

  But...I blew out a breath, trying to think rationally, calmly. Even though I'd accused Max of working against me, my gut said I needed to hear him out, that there was something bigger going on than what I'd originally thought.

  He waited silently as I opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of pictures. The first was of the outside of the apartment where the girls had lived. Then, the interior through a window. Next, was one of Katka coming out of the apartment with a big bag.

  I might not be able tell them apart when they were kids, but I knew it was Katka here. Her hair was down. Livie never wore her hair down. I'd learned that after the whole mistaken identity thing.

  The next picture was one of Livie coming out of the apartment with a suitcase. Her hair was back in a ponytail.

  “Look at the time stamp.”

  I glanced at the bottom right corner of the pictures. Livie's had been taken about an hour before Katka's.

  “Now look at what they're wearing.”

  I hadn't even realized that I hadn't looked at their clothes until he told me to. I'd been focusing on their faces, their hair. Now I saw that they were both wearing jeans and a light gray jacket.

  “They have the same jacket,” I said. “Doesn't mean anything.”

  “Keep going.” Max almost sounded sympathetic.

  I scowled and went through the next couple pictures where the girls got into cabs and drove away from the apartment. Then the setting changed. It was a hotel and a series of shots through a window. The gap in the curtains wasn't big, but it was enough to get a few clear shots of Katka in her underwear.

  “Where is she?” I asked, annoyed that this wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth. “You said you hadn't found either of them, but you know where Katka is.”

  “I said you needed to know what I found,” he corrected. “I never said I didn't find anyone.” He leaned forward, folding his large hands on the desk. “And that's not Katka. It's Livie.”

  I put the picture on the desk and tapped the picture that clearly showed a tattoo I knew intimately. “Livie doesn't have any tattoos. Katka got that one. It's their initials. Trust me. I've seen it up close and personal.”

  “She's registered under Livie Dusek,” he said.

  “So they're staying together,” I countered stubbornly. “They're twins.”

  “Only one woman is in that room, Mr. Westmore.” Max spoke in a firm, no-nonsense tone, as if that would get through to me. “I did my job. Tal
ked to people at the hotel, at the apartment building, at the places where you said Livie and Katka both worked. No one has ever seen them together. Ever.”

  I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut again. I'd never seen them together either. Of course, there were any number of good reasons for that.

  “There aren't any pictures of the two of them as adults.” Max gestured towards the grainy newspaper photo. “That's the last picture I've been able to find of the twins together. And there's no record of a Katka Dusek or Duseková in any orphanage in the Czech Republic. Or any paper trail of any kind for her. Only for Livie Duseková.”

  “They have passports. Applications for green cards.”

  He shook his head. “There aren't any for Katka Dusek.” He pulled out another piece of paper. “But I do have this. And I don't think you'll need a translation to know what it is.”

  I picked it up in numb fingers. He was right. I didn't need to read it to know that I was holding a death certificate. And the name on it was clear. Katka Duseková.

  “Here's the name of the hotel.” Max scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “And I can keep investigating if you'd like, figure out why she's pretending to be her sister.”

  I shook my head. “No, that's fine. I'll take it from here.” I stood. “Send me your bill.”

  I was still in a daze as I walked out of the PI's office. Why would Livie pretend to be her dead sister and sleep with me? Was the whole closed-off, no-sex thing just an act? But why? It didn't make sense. She didn't have anything to gain from it. And Katka...my Kat.

  My heart twisted painfully.

  She was real. She had to be.

  A theory was slowly forming in the back of my mind and it would explain everything, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be right. I didn't know enough about it though to know for sure. I did, however, have someone I could ask.

  Chapter 2

  Blayne