Twisted Hearts: The Complete Duet

by Max Henry

  Leopards don’t change their spots. And big cats don’t stop feeding on weak prey.

  “Be careful with him,” I warn. “He’s a smooth talker until he gets what he wants.”

  She chuckles nervously.

  “Kate?” I cock an eyebrow, suddenly pissed at this traitor sullying my safe space.

  “That’s the thing. We’ve slept together already.” She holds both hands up, halting my reply. “I know, it’s so soon. But he’s so genuine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do, okay?” Her lips press in a thin smile as she drops a sympathetic shoulder. “I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t mean for it to happen….”

  “It just did?”

  “Yeah.” Kate drops her gaze to the comforter between us. “I wanted you to hear it from me, anyway. I hope you can understand.”

  “Thanks for stopping by.” I remain impassive.

  If they can’t see that they hurt you, they won’t keep doing it.

  “Belle.”

  “You seem busy. I’ll let you get back to the rest of your day.”

  She blows out a heavy breath when she realises I’m not going to keep this conversation going, and stands. “See you around. Maybe.”

  I focus on the brilliant white clouds that pepper the sky out my window as I listen to her make small talk with Cerise, and then leave. A car starts on the roadside, and to my horror, I slide across to the window side of my bed to find Scott behind the wheel as they pull away.

  The silence afterward is poignant. I don’t have a mother who thinks to ask if I’m okay, let alone one who senses that Kate’s visit wasn’t all that friendly. I don’t have a lover to talk to, to seek comfort in.

  Instead, I have the empty ache of the theme of my life: everyone always leaves.

  I guess Zeus achieved one thing he wanted to without even realising it—I have nothing left to stay here for.

  Nothing to tie me down other than the weight of a thousand regrets strung across my shoulders.

  Time to lighten that load.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Zeus

  Two questions run through my mind as John steps inside my house and looks around: Why is he here? Is Belle okay?

  “You’ve made quite the home out of it,” he appraises as he stops in the middle of the living room.

  “I try.” Be more of a home if it had Belle in it, but beggars can’t be choosers. “What brings you around?”

  He sighs, hands on hips as he looks to the floor. “Look, mate. I don’t begrudge you for what you did in hitting me.” He lifts his chin to look me dead in the eye. “I acted like a jerk, and I got what I deserved.”

  “I don’t think anyone else saw it that way.”

  He huffs a bitter laugh. “Yeah.”

  I gesture toward the seats, and he nods.

  “Cerise wanted me to report it.”

  “Of course she did.” I roll my eyes as I drop into the solo armchair.

  “You know why?” John makes himself comfortable on the sofa. You’d almost think we’d never come to blows over his daughter.

  Except, I’ll never forget. “I violate my parole conditions if I’m reported for assault again.”

  He nods, eyes averted. “I can’t believe she wants you back in prison, mate.”

  “What part is unbelievable?” I ask. “That she’d go to that extreme to get rid of me, or that she’s that much of a cold-hearted bitch?”

  I expect protest, in the very least a lame warning about watching what I say. I get nothing. The way John’s mouth turns down as he nods tells me he understands. Finally.

  “Why did you let her come back?” I ask. “She’s no good for Belle, and she’s taking you for a ride as well.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I was sick and fucking tired of coming home from work to nothing.”

  “You had something,” I point out. “A daughter who worshipped the ground you walked on.”

  “Past tense?” he points out.

  I tip my head to the side. “You’d have to ask her. All I know is that you lost more than a part of her respect when you let Cerise come back. You lost trust.”

  “She talked to you a bit, huh?” His eyes narrow as he digs the fingers of his right hand into the arm of the sofa.

  “Despite what you might have imagined, we did have more to our relationship than a few hot and heavy moments.”

  He doesn’t take my dry humour well, a scowl pulling his face in. “Easy.”

  “Why are you here, John? Really?”

  He taps his fingers on the upholstery, watching them as he does. “Belle isn’t coping well with this split.”

  He may as well have punched me in the face again. “A risk I took.”

  “I guess I don’t understand why you did it.” He tilts his head to one side, eyes narrow as he studies me. “Why go to all that trouble to tell me what was going on if you were just going to end it anyway?”

  “Because I wasn’t going to end it.” At least not consciously. “I wanted her for myself. I still want her for myself. But I guess that was the wake-up call I needed.”

  “To see what?”

  “That she deserves so much more.” I sigh, slamming my forearms down on the arms of the chair. “Fuck, mate. My life is all but over. I’m a deadbeat ex-con with nothing in his future but menial labour and weekends spent finding ways to pass the time. I don’t have career options, a life to build; this is it. But Belle….”

  “She has all of that yet to come.”

  “Exactly. Her staying with me? That would just hurt her, and I’m tired of hurting everyone.” I sigh, over thinking about it already, over the burden of who I am. “All I’ve done is hurt people, mate, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being the bad guy. I can only take so much.”

  John drags a palm over his mouth and chin, hard eyes watching me as he thinks things over. He taps the tip of his thumb against his bottom lip, the intense scrutiny he has me under making me uncomfortable in my own house.

  “If she came in here now,” he asks, “and announced that she’d give it all up for you: her dreams, her plans, her options… what would you do?”

  “Same thing I did the first time she told me that, I guess.”

  “Which is?”

  “Remind her that she’s young and that her view on things will change.”

  He nods with a low hum. “And what if they don’t?”

  “Then I guess we reassess the situation when we know that for sure.” My pulse beats thick and heavy in my neck, agitation building the more he pushes me to analyse this with him.

  I’ve been over every facet of this fucking situation a thousand times in the last few days. A hundred more in the weeks before. I’ve thought about it, changed my mind more than my fucking underwear, and always ended up at the same damn conclusion: this is how it had to end.

  Early.

  “As weird as it is for me to say it to you, J, I love your daughter. Belle….” I pause, crinkling my nose up while I search for the right fucking words. “I’ve never felt so comfortable with somebody before that they make me forget that I have company. Does that make sense?”

  “She’s an extension of you,” he muses.

  “Exactly.” I point a finger at him. “I don’t have to second-guess what she thinks about me.”

  “About your history, you mean?”

  I frown, unsure where he’s going with this.

  “Mate, I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again. Most of us don’t give a fuck that you did time. Most of us would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. Sefina was an amazing woman, one who didn’t deserve even an ounce of what that cunt dealt out to her.” He chuckles. “Shit, Z. If you’d told me what you were off to do that day, I probably would have joined you.”

  “I know,” I say with a smile. “Which is why I didn’t tell you. You had Belle. You still have Belle to think about. I couldn’t take you from her.” I glance to the floor and frown. “I can’t tak
e her from you now, either.”

  The humour slides from his face as he leans forward in his seat. “I don’t like the idea of it all, but shit, you made her happy.” He shakes his head, eyes down as he clasps his hands where they hang between his knees. “I can’t do that. Not like you do.”

  “Why do you have to make this even harder than it is?” I murmur. “Don’t kick a dying dog, mate.”

  “All I’m going to say, is, I hope you understand you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I’m not sure.” My mood bounces daily between staying the course in letting my dove fly free, and clipping her wings so that she has no choice but to stay caged with me.

  I know which choice suits us both, but I also know which choice is the best for her.

  “Hopefully in time she’ll understand that, too,” I murmur.

  John shakes his head. “She won’t leave the house, mate.”

  Fuck, baby girl. “Then we make her.”

  Because the sooner she moves on, the sooner I will too.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Belle

  The faint smell of German sausage drifts on the breeze from the food trucks parked around the outskirts of the oval. Cars come and go for the monthly get-together; kids squeal and laugh as they make the most of the bouncy castles made available by the organisers as a special treat for Christmas.

  “I can’t remember the last time we came to this,” I muse as Dad locks the work truck.

  He pockets the keys and holds his hand out for mine. “Two and a half years ago.”

  Cerise wanted to come, but Dad shot her down, demanding one on one time with me. I could have hugged and kissed him when he did that, but instead I remained composed in front of her and saved my thanks for the car ride here.

  “I thought it might cheer you up,” he explains as we head for the first row of shiny classics lined up for admiration. “I have something I want to talk to you about, anyway.”

  “And you had to bring me here to do it?” I smile as we walk hand in hand.

  Dad ducks his chin, his lips tilted up at the corners. “Well… I have a confession.”

  “I’m listening.”

  We stop next to the end of the row, a Camaro polished within an inch of its life gleaming under the massive floodlights while one of many Santas here tonight chats with another man beside it.

  “I’m not the only one who wants to talk to you about this.” Dad gives my hand a tug and leads me along the row.

  I vaguely pay attention to the cars we pass while I study Dad, trying to pick what he’s up to, when one sleeper catches my eye. One sleeper that’s had a new matte finish since I saw it last.

  “What are you doing?” I stop walking, tugging back on Dad’s hand.

  He tightens his grip so I can’t escape as Zeus climbs out of the driver seat.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Dad calls, as though I’m not being trapped into a conversation I don’t want to have. “This one couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear.”

  Kill me now. I can’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

  I look at him. Fuck.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey, dove.”

  Is he trying to hurt me?

  “You know what?” Dad says, fooling no one. “I think that coffee I had before we left is working. I’ll be back soon.”

  Arsehole takes off across the grounds before I can say a damn thing. Zeus takes a step forward to get out of the way of a guy who takes a picture of the car. He’s close enough to touch. My hands ache with the need to reach out and pat him, just to make sure this is real.

  For weeks he’s avoided me. For weeks he’s ignored every message I sent. The arsehole has even been radio silent on social media, not posting a damn thing.

  “So….” I nod toward the car. “Keeping occupied?”

  “Got to do something to keep my mind off other things.”

  Huh. “I might keep walking. Tell Dad to catch up when he gets back.” I take two steps and halt when his strong hand wraps around my upper arm.

  “Belle, wait.”

  “Let me go, please.”

  He does as I ask, looking like a child who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Maybe I was simply a sweet treat for him? Who would know, considering he doesn’t tell me a damn thing.

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  Great. “Whatever, Zeus.”

  He ghosts me in silence, keeping slightly behind me and off to my right as I do my best to appear interested in the cars. It’s no use. Ask me what colours there were, what makes and models, and I couldn’t tell you a damn thing.

  Ask me how he smells tonight, what he does with his hands when we stop, and how many times he’s run his thumb across his bottom lip, and I could recount that in vivid detail.

  I’m ruined. Completely ruined.

  “How has the job hunting been going?”

  I glare at him, pissed he thinks he can slip his way back into my good books with idle conversation. “Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

  He looks around us, seeming to check if anyone takes notice of us as we stand face to face, before slaying me with those blue eyes I love so much. “Is it getting any easier?” He chews his bottom lip before continuing. “Because I think every day is harder than the last for me.”

  “Why are you doing this to us?” I whisper. Don’t cry. Don’t show him how he hurts you.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Fuck what’s right,” I snap. “Did you care about what the right thing to do was when you kissed me? Did you give two shits about what was right when you fucked me, Z?”

  “Belle.” He tugs me along, eyes darting all around.

  “Oh, please. As if anyone around here cares.” He says nothing, fist tangled in the side of my black sweater as he pulls me toward the fence line. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere private.”

  Somewhere without boundaries. “Don’t.” I dig my heels in, twisting around his wrist as he tries to keep us going. “I want to stay where there’s other people.”

  “Why?” He releases my top, frowning. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I don’t trust myself.”

  He swallows hard, the same battle I struggle with clear in his eyes. “This is why I ignored you, dove.”

  “Don’t—”

  “Because I knew if I came to see you, if I talked to you, I couldn’t keep my resolve.” He smirks. “I stayed on my feet, head up and proud when the guys who ran my wing in prison thought they’d try to break me on my first week. Nothing they did brought me down, but babe, one look at you and I want to fall to my knees and beg you to forgive me.” His brow knits as he lifts a hand to touch me and then thinks better of it. “If I give in, you’ll regret it in the future.”

  “Don’t tell me what I will and won’t regret.” I take myself by surprise, shoving him hard in the chest.

  The release feels good. Too good.

  I shove again, and Zeus takes a step back, yet he doesn’t lift a finger to defend himself. He takes everything I have as I push again and again, my palms slapping hard enough against his firm chest to make my hands sting.

  “You don’t get to make decisions about my future for me,” I growl as I push him backward. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t love. You don’t get to tell me anything.”

  “Belle….” He lifts his hand and catches one of my wrists as he loses his footing, regaining balance before he takes us both down. “Stop.”

  “I hate you,” I yell. “I hate you for loving me. I hate you for showing me what I can’t have.”

  He expels a single heavy breath, his brow furrowed, before he winds his hand in my hair and yanks my head to his. Zeus’s lips crush mine; his other hand presses my hips hard against his as he kisses me with all the pain that I’ve felt in the past weeks.

  How can he understand and yet keep telling me that staying apart is what’s right? How can he believe the li
es he repeats as though they’re his gospel?

  I cling to his shoulders as I pull free from his kiss and rest my forehead against his lips. “Don’t do this if nothing will change.”

  “Nothing has changed,” he murmurs against my head. “I still love you, dove.”

  His face is warm against my palm, the feel of his cheekbones, his jaw under my hand so familiar it soothes the ache that spreads from my heart through my limbs, crippling me from being able to walk away.

  “You’re everything to me, and if you make me do this thing called life without you, it’ll never be complete.”

  “Sometimes you have to have pieces missing to ensure you never lose focus.” He mirrors my actions, tracing the lines of my face with his thumb as he pulls me away. “Stay alert, Belle. Don’t settle. Always look for more.”

  The salt of my tears mingles with the sweet taste of his kiss as he gives me the most bittersweet goodbye I’ll ever know. I lose myself in the moment, blocking out the people and the racket around us. His gentle lips pull me into this lie, this taste of what I could have had if only I was older, more experienced.

  “Hey!” Pain lances through my shoulder as Dad jerks us apart. “This is not what I fucking brought her here for.” He steps between Zeus and me, his rage directed at his former best friend.

  “Dad, don’t.” Don’t ruin the memory. Don’t sully the moment.

  “I’ve got nothing,” Zeus says as he steps back, hands raised. “No excuse. No regrets. Nothing.”

  “You even tell her the news yet?”

  “What news?” I ask.

  “I was getting there,” Zeus says with a shrug.

  “Real fucking hard to explain it all with your tongue down her throat.” Dad makes a disgusted sound. “Fuck it. I’ll tell her myself. We can do this without you two having to see each other again.”

  “Do what?” I cry.

  Why the fuck won’t anyone fill me in on what so obviously relates to me?

  “Come on, Belle.” Dad jerks his head toward the car park. “We’ll discuss it on our way out of here.”