Twisted Hearts: The Complete Duet

by Max Henry

  “That’s not a valid excuse for fucking my old boss.”

  “No, it’s not,” she bites. “But punishing me for it repeatedly will only make you suffer too.”

  Fuck her and her ability to point out the facts. “Give me time.” I close my eyes again and drop my head to the seat. “Take the papers back, and give me the space and time you wouldn’t fucking shut up about.”

  “Take as much as you need,” she bites, “but Zeus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m serious; I don’t want to lose my friend.” She sighs. “I sometimes think perhaps that’s where we should have stopped all those years ago.”

  Guilt settles in the pit of my stomach—does she think this is ultimately my fault? She wasn’t interested in dating at the start, but after seeing John and Cerise together she gave in to my constant badgering of her and the rest is history.

  Maybe I should have taken the hint and left her alone, but when we were repeatedly thrust together by our best friends being in love; something was bound to come out of it. I guess happily ever after wasn’t it, though.

  “I’ll be in touch when I’m ready.”

  I end the call, catching her faint “Take care” before I press the icon.

  My eyes lift in time to catch Belle as she turns up the front path, walking with her head down and earphones in. The students in the final year at her high school get the luxury of not having to wear uniform, and I can’t decide if that’s a good or a bad thing. Pass her in the street without the bulging backpack, and you’d be forgiven for thinking she’s several years her senior.

  She’s a young woman in every way—no longer a gawky teenager—except for her damn attitude. Maybe John isn’t hard enough on her, sure, but I can understand why. His no-nonsense attitude was the very thing that finally made his wife give up, made Belle’s mother pick another man over what she should have cherished most—her child, her family.

  The front door opens, followed by the thud of Belle’s bag as it hits the floor.

  “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon?” I call.

  Her shuffling stops for a beat before she pokes her head around the doorframe. “My maths exam was swell.” Her dark-rimmed eyes narrow on the relaxed position I’ve got in her father’s chair. “How was yours?”

  “Productive.”

  “Huh.” She disappears again, presumably going through her bag by the sound of it. “You going to answer my question now?” she calls from behind the wall.

  “What one is that?”

  “Why you’ve suddenly turned up out of the blue after....” She steps into the room. “How long was it exactly?”

  “Two and a half years.”

  “Hmm.” Her lips purse as she glares at me.

  Fuck—she’s just as stunning as her mother was at that age.

  “So where did you go, Z?” She sneers the nickname her father uses for me.

  “Thought I’d trade my freedom for three meals a day and a complimentary movie channel subscription.”

  She folds her arms over her chest, drawing my eye to her narrow waist slightly hidden beneath a loose T-shirt. “You went back to prison.” Her brow furrows.

  I nod.

  “Why the hell didn’t Dad tell me?”

  “Didn’t want you to think the wrong thing.” I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh.” She crosses to the sofa and drops onto the cushions. “What was it for?”

  “Assault.” The change is slight, but it’s still there; she’s nervous. “I’d never hurt you, Belle.”

  She swallows, hand clutched around her phone, and nods. “Still doesn’t tell me why you’re sitting in Dad’s chair like you live here, though.” She snaps out of her daze and turns her focus to the screen in her hand.

  “Your dad’s offered me a place to stay for a while.”

  Her thumb stills on the phone as she drags her gaze back to me. “Pardon?”

  “I’m staying here for a while, Belle.”

  She frowns; her eyes go back to the phone as she says, “Why? Don’t you have your own place or some shit?”

  “Did.”

  She pauses again, this time setting the phone down beside her. “What happened?”

  “Moved out.”

  “Why?” Her gaze darts around the place. “Where’s Jodie?”

  “Gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Divorced, split… gone.”

  She doesn’t offer condolences, or even pass comment—pretty much what I’d expect from someone her age. Instead, she picks up her phone again and resumes scrolling.

  It’s refreshing.

  I cast my eyes over her as she frowns at the device, clearly trying to avoid any further conversation, and can’t help but smile. She fights her natural instincts, always putting on this “tough girl” show as though letting people know that she cares would be a sign of weakness.

  It’s sad, really, that she denies the world such an amazing young woman.

  “What time does your dad usually get in from work?”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, still focused on the phone. “He’ll be done before midnight; he has to pick me up from a party. Why? You want to organise a late-night sit-down when we get in?” She lifts her gaze momentarily to slap me with a scathing glare.

  “Do I have to? Or can I trust you to bring up what happened today on your own?”

  She sighs, closing her eyes briefly. Her long lashes rest on her high cheekbones before she slays me with what has to be a well-practiced puppy-dog stare. “Do I have to tell him, Zeus? I mean, the school said they wouldn’t contact him since you’d already phoned, so….”

  “You think one cute stare can sway me?” I chuckle. “Think again.”

  “Was it cute, though?” She smiles. “Did I pull it off?”

  “Adorable,” I deadpan.

  An awkward beat passes. Does she see the line we just crossed as well as I do? Never once over the years have I commented on the way she looks. Even when she was young, I always kept those kinds of observations to myself. After all, she’s not mine. It was just weird to call her cute and pretty when she’s not related to me. Even weirder now.

  “So,” Belle exclaims, returning her hard-edged stare to her phone. “What’s the plan for a Friday night then? You heading out to the pub soon, or what?”

  “Thought I’d cook dinner tonight.”

  She snorts, tearing her gaze away from that fucking thing in her hand. “You cook?”

  “Why? Does that surprise you?” I smirk.

  “I’ve only ever seen you man a barbecue, or devour takeaway pizza.”

  “Well, I cook. So how about you tell me what things you don’t eat?” I push out of the chair as she swings her legs up onto the sofa and stretches out.

  Her T-shirt rides up over her stomach as she slides lower on the cushions, revealing smooth pale flesh. I move my gaze to the wall behind her, focusing on the split in the plaster as she answers.

  “As long as you don’t sneak anything weird like eggplant or brussels sprouts in there, you’re okay.”

  “Deal.”

  You’re okay. If she only knew how far from the truth that is.

  FIVE

  Belle

  “Kate. I’ve been looking for you for ages.” I push past a couple of shit-faced girls to fit in the narrow gap between the garage and fence, tucking the bottle in my hand to my chest to protect it.

  I managed to avoid a landmine with Dad and Zeus, delaying my “confession” until tomorrow since Dad is at work. Brock picked Kate and me up as planned, much to what seemed like Zeus’s dislike, and brought us out to Scott’s for a night of letting loose.

  I haven’t seen Kate since we got here.

  “Hey, Belle.” Kate flashes me a smile before she twists in the narrow space to face Brock and kiss him.

  Scott’s parents aren’t here, and the party has spilled across the lifestyle block with drunken teenagers dotted across the property like an
ts at a picnic. Beer flows freely from kegs lined up along the back deck, and the array of liquor on offer across the kitchen counter would put most bars to shame.

  It’s fair to say I’ve had more than my “one drink per hour” quota set down by Dad.

  “Jesus. Don’t go out of your way to spare me any time,” I snap, fuelled by the liquid courage that burns in my empty stomach.

  “What the hell?” Kate rolls her eyes at me, missing the vicious look Brock and I exchange.

  He’s quiet, sullen, and seems not to like me, which in turn makes me like him even less. The guy grunted at me when I got in his car—grunted, for fuck’s sake. I’m not convinced he’s good for her, but then again when has my taste in guys ever been that great?

  He gropes her arse as she pushes off him and heads towards me, shepherding me back out the way I came. “Belle, please don’t fuck this up for me,” she mumbles under her breath, presumably low enough he can’t hear her. “Seriously. I’m so in love.”

  And I’m so being ditched. “I thought we were supposed to be hanging out together tonight?”

  Her eyes dart toward where Brock lights a smoke before she graces me with a weak smile. “We can hang out anytime, babe.”

  “But not tonight, right?” I fold my arms across my chest, and then promptly put them back at my sides when my ability to stay upright decides to take a break.

  Guess the drinks have got to me more than I give them credit for.

  “Don’t be angry,” she says with a pout. “Be happy for me.” She grabs my arm with painful urgency. “Legit, he’s so sweet, Belle. You should hear the things he’s been telling me.”

  Things that he knows will get her to loosen up and offer what he’s looking for, no doubt. Yet I don’t voice the thought. I don’t say a thing as Kate loosens her grip on my bicep and strokes my arm instead as though to sweeten the next blow.

  “Brock said he wants to take me home to his place.” She gives the guy lovey eyes even though he’s now sharing a joint with his friends, paying her no mind.

  “Yeah? And what about me?” I slump against the fence to save my unsteady legs.

  “Your dad mentioned he’d pick you up, right?” She frowns. “You’ll be okay on your own until then.”

  What the fuck happened to Thelma and Louise? Seems Thelma found Brad Pitt, is what.

  I seriously can’t believe my best friend is doing this. Not only did she disappear over two hours ago, but now I find her picking a guy over me. Maybe I’m being petty, selfish even, but this was supposed to be our night out. I agreed to let him tag along, knowing it would make her happy, but shit, the guy’s hijacked the whole fucking evening.

  I lift my drink and drain the remainder of the bourbon premix. “Dad’s going to ask where you are,” I point out as I ditch the bottle in the long grass. “He’ll want to know in case your parents ask him.”

  “Tell him I’m staying the night here, that Scott’s parents offered me one of the spare beds when I got a migraine.”

  “I can’t believe you’re using an actual problem of yours as an excuse to hang out with some guy.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Belle, he’s not just some guy.” Her freezing cold hands slap against the sides of my face as she twists my head toward him. “Look at him. He’s gorgeous.”

  I squint a fraction in my effort to focus. “So?” Doesn’t mean he’s going to take care of her. “Have you even met his friends before?” I gesture to the guy with the cloud of smoke trailing out his nose.

  “No. So?” All humour slides from her face, as her hands do from mine.

  “So, I don’t feel right leaving you with people we don’t know that well. It’s not safe.”

  “Just because you can’t trust people, Belle, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”

  Ouch. “I didn’t only mean that,” I say. “What about the fact they’re all smoking up, getting high. Who’s driving?”

  Her eyes narrow as she takes a step back. “You need to loosen up. You sound like your old man.”

  I harden my gaze and give her nothing but silence.

  She sighs. “Look. He’s cute, I have a condom burning a fucking hole in my bag, and I’m determined I’m not going to university a virgin. This might be my only chance.”

  “I can’t believe you’re so shallow,” I snap. “You really think the fact you fucked a guy will make people like you more, or something? Initiate you into some elite club for the cool kids?”

  She chooses not to reply, instead huffing as she turns away and storms back to the admittedly hot Brock.

  I remember being upset back when I was twelve because a friend of mine at the time took my skirt and then lied to her mum when I asked for it back, saying it was a gift and I was the thief. Dad eventually got the skirt back after speaking with her parents, but as he said afterward, “Friends don’t often last forever, princess. Not everybody has a permanent place in your life.” I’d done everything I could to deny the glaring truth that the girl wasn’t my true friend. I finally ceded when I watched Dad interact with Zeus, hoping one day I too would find that person who stood by me through thick and thin.

  I thought Kate was it. And the fact she’s just proven that she’s not… well, that burns.

  I’m literally alone, on my own after slowly losing every friend I thought I could count on over the years. And all I have to ask myself is why? Why did they all go? What did I do wrong?

  What is it about me that everyone seems so keen to run from?

  “Everything okay here?” Scott steps up beside me, sliding a fresh bottle of drink into my hand.

  Yet another person who disappeared with no reason close to an hour ago. “You’re still alive,” I say slightly too bitchy.

  “I had a few things to organise.” His arm slides around my waist as he guides me away from Kate and her heated stare.

  I flip her the bird as we leave, snuggling into Scott’s side a bit more. He smells good.

  “Having fun tonight?” His thumb strokes my waist as we walk.

  Correction: he walks, I stumble.

  “Not really.”

  “Why?” His brow furrows as he helps me up the back steps of the house.

  I frown as he casually elbows a couple out of the way to give me clear passage into the house. “Seems my friends aren’t exactly who I thought they are.”

  “Shame.” My back slams into the wall as he pins me in the hallway. “Anything I can do to remedy that?”

  I turn my head to fit the bottle to my lips without clocking him in the face, yet keep my gaze on his as I take a long pull. “Maybe.” Liquor coats my lips, drawing his eye.

  My breath hitches as he leans in and licks the residue from my bottom lip. Do I like this? I can’t decide. It feels… good, but also wrong for some reason. Not that I hold much hope of figuring out why when the wall is the only thing stopping me from wobbling on my feet.

  “I’ve been watching you all night,” Scott whispers against my mouth.

  “You have?”

  He nods as he steps away and holds his hand out for mine. “Ever since you marched that sexy arse through the front door.”

  I set my palm in his, a strange swirling taking root in my gut as he leads me toward the opposite end of the house. The party noise dies off as we head to the far rooms, the people thinning until all that remains is a girl passed out, her back against the hallway wall. I step over her, following Scott’s lead, and stare down at her sleeping form. Something registers as familiar between her and me, yet I can’t work out how that’s connected to the anxiety taking root in my head, or why that should even matter.

  “Lie down. It’ll make you feel better.” Scott nods toward a bed in the centre of the room as he shuts the door behind us, blocking my view of comatose girl.

  Somehow I don’t think a lie down is the only thing he has in mind to make me feel better.

  Shit.

  SIX

  Zeus

  The banner for an oncoming call slides down over t
he top half of my screen. Fuck’s sake. I tap to answer, pissed off that the call interrupted the Insta-stalking I’m doing. I wasn’t allowed a phone in prison, even though I was minimum security, so exploring the rise of the Instagram model has been a pleasant visual treat to say the least.

  “Hey, John.”

  “Hope I didn’t interrupt your Friday night, mate.”

  Nothing I’d share with him, anyway. “No. You’re all good.”

  “I need a favour.”

  “Sure thing.”

  He sighs, frustrated. “I’ve been asked to stick around another hour. The guy who comes in after me is running late—some car trouble thing—and so they want me to fill the gap.”

  “Yeah?” Don’t see what that has to do with me, but okay.

  “I need you to pick up Belle for me.”

  Fuck. Of course. “Sure. Send me the address.”

  “Done.” His voice is distant, telling me he’s got me on speaker as the chime of an incoming message sounds in my ear. “Thanks, Z.”

  “No sweat. I’m not doing much anyway.” Just looking at women with fuck-all clothes on. Totally ordinary Friday night.

  “I told her I’d be there at midnight. It takes about fifteen to get out to the property.”

  I pull the phone from my ear and check the time: eleven thirty. “Just her? Or am I taking her friends home, too?”

  “Shit, yeah. Kate as well.”

  “I’ll flick you a message when we get back, let you know she’s all tucked up safe and sound.”

  John chuckles while I visualise his daughter in bed. So, so wrong. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks. Catch you when I get in.”

  He ends the call while I drag a palm over my face and blow out a heavy breath. Who the fuck am I? Sitting in bed with my cock in a semihard state because of women my age on Instagram, thinking about a girl who’s closer to twenty years my junior. Jesus. Maybe it’s time I took a walk back to prison with my hands held out before me, ready for cuffs.

  Fuck me. I’ve got to get my head screwed on straight.

  Disgusted with what I was satisfied doing mere minutes ago, I toss my phone aside and reach for the dirty denim next to the bed. Pretty sure Belle is going to be shocked when I turn up to get her. But maybe then she’ll be relieved? Always did suck being picked up by your parents from a get-together with mates.