Twisted Truth (Truth Vs Lie Book 1)

by Maria Macdonald

  “Why me?”

  Toby shakes his head. “I don’t know. At a guess I would say because you’re the eldest.”

  “So what did they give you?”

  “Photos, jewellery, documentation like our original birth certificates.”

  “And? There’s more isn’t there?” I push.

  “I can’t do this shit.” Toby starts rising.

  “Sit down now,” I growl at him.

  His eyes widen, but he follows my instruction. My family has never seen the other side of me—they’ve never see Kane. I can tell that although my brother has known what I am for years, the realisation is only just sinking in.

  “I’m fucking sitting,” he spits his words at me, but it’s only to cover his fear, and my stomach revolts. I don’t want my family to be scared of me. Not ever.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I sigh, and he visibly relaxes before my eyes.

  “This is one messed-up situation.” There’s a rawness, a torment in his tone.

  “Messed up? That’s the verb you’re choosing?” I say with a small grin.

  He looks up at me and I watch as a shadow moves through his eyes. “There were letters.”

  Raising my chin, I wait for him to continue. “Tell me, Isaac, do you know anything about our parents?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes widen at my omission. We were never told much about where we came from. Mum and Dad weren’t told much just that our parents died and we were fostered for about a year before they adopted us.

  Toby leans forward, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to capture his words in the air. Seeming to gather his thoughts he asks, “What do you know and how?”

  I raise an eyebrow at him, not sure why he’s asking how when he knows I can obtain any information I want in my job.

  “What do you know?”

  An internal debate ensues as I decide how much to reveal. “Do you really want to know, no matter the answer?” I ask quietly.

  His eyes assess me, he takes time to come to a conclusion. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Our father got hooked on crack, then one day he shot our mother in the head.”

  His torso jerks backwards as though I punched him in the gut.

  “Don’t mince your words, big brother.”

  Crossing my arms, I lean back stoically. What more can I say? It’s what I know, and now so does Toby.

  “They wanted you, not me.” His words are scratchy like they clawed their way up from deep inside. “I’ve got the letters. Before Lawson came along, they were thinking of putting me up for adoption.”

  Frowning, I lean forward. “You’re sure?”

  “I read the fucking letters, Isaac. I know what they said.”

  “What exactly?”

  Toby’s head falls back and hits one of the bars from my weight machine. “Bollocks!” He slams the word out, and it’s more than just the instant pain. It’s like a battle cry without the battle.

  “Toby.”

  “Okay, fuck!” he grunts, rubbing his head. “They were letters from our mother, but they weren’t addressed to anyone and were never posted. I think they were meant to be a diary of sorts.” I nod for him to continue.

  “They started by saying how amazing you were, but then went on to say that she was pregnant again and didn’t know how she would cope.” I stiffen as he unfolds the story. “As the letters continue, she has me then admits to contacting adoption agencies.” He looks at me, and all I see is my little five-year-old brother, sad and scared, and I want to rip someone, anyone, apart just to feel better.

  “She filled the letters with line after line of how perfect her life was before I came along. And how, because of me, her and our father were on the brink of collapse.” I feel a flurry of anger for my brother. “Basically, she wanted you, but not me. When I came along she was scared, upset, and angry. I found adoption forms, Isaac. She was going to give me away, not you, me.” He digs at his chest and stands up.

  “But she didn’t,” I finish the story.

  “Obviously,” he snaps. “I don’t know why. There were no more letters after that.” Toby lets out a huff. “They went on to have Lawson…” Our youngest brother’s name hangs in the air, like a lynchpin waiting to be pulled. “They obviously fixed their life, but it was my arrival that nearly destroyed them.” He hurls, ramming his thumb into his chest again.

  I stand, stretching my arms, the muscles twitch as I reach upward, taking a moment for myself. I knew a lot about our biological parents. Everything gets dragged up when you go into Black Ops, only to be hidden again. I never knew about those letters though. No one did, and Toby, alone, has been living with the venomous ink scrawled on those pages. But that doesn’t explain his behaviour two nights ago.

  Lifting my chin he catches my gaze, and although I’ve been away for a long time, he’s my brother, my best friend, and he knows what I need.

  “Shit. Okay, the other night.”

  I lean back against the mirrored wall tucking my hands into my jogger pockets—the look is casual, relaxed. I’m neither right now.

  “It was stupid. Liv dragged me into the toilets.”

  My teeth grind down hard. Toby must see the strain on my face as his eyes widen, and he holds up his hands.

  “Fuck me, not like that. She tore me a new one for flirting with your bloody girlfriend.”

  My head jerks back slightly as my anger calms.

  “It sets something in motion inside me. Something wrong and stupid, but I couldn’t control the frustration anymore. It reminded me that you had the girl.”

  “I don’t have Shelly.”

  “Shitting hell, I know that, Isaac. But you have Shelly, even if it’s fake. You have Liv, even if you aren’t with her—”

  I cut him off. “Are you shitting me here? You trying to tell me that you want Via?” I growl low.

  “Will you fucking listen!” he bellows, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Always so damn impatient,” he bitches to himself, I can’t help the chuckle that lets loose. With a roll of his eyes that seems to release his bitterness, he continues his explanation. “I never wanted Liv, not like that. Hey, I still don’t,” he confirms when I can’t help narrowing my eyes on him. “She dances with me now, did you know that?”

  His words cause a sting. It’s like having an open wound with no chance of it healing, and he’s just sprinkled salt into it. I shake my head.

  “Well, she does. She never did, it was always you. You got the dance partner, you got the girls…”

  “You’ve had your fair share of women, Toby.”

  “I know, but it was always you. Our real parents wanted you. I guess it all got on top of me in the end, and I reacted in the worst way.”

  I let his words filter and process taking a deep, slow inhale in through my nose. Feeling my chest rising, I blow the breath out through my teeth. Toby hears the hiss, and his head whips up until our eyes meet. He sucks in a breath at what he can see, and I hope it’s the last time I look upon my brother like this.

  “I want to say two things,” I tell him, and his eyes are wary. “But I’ll preface them both by saying you are my brother, and I love you, always.”

  “Okay.” His voice trembles before he coughs to clear it.

  “First, our real parents are Saul and Sophie James. Don’t ever forget that.”

  His eyes cast downward, he swallows a couple of times feeling my meaning.

  “Second.” The word is hard, and he quickly gives me his eyes again. “I love you, but if you ever hurt Via again…” I shake my head and bite down clinking my teeth together. “Fuck. Let’s just agree that it’s never going to happen.”

  “Never,” he repeats, shame filling his eyes. I don’t want to see that look on my brother, but he’s acted like a dick, and I had to spell shit out to him. Never let things slide even with family.

  Whatever I am, whatever I end up being, there’s one person who claimed me before I even knew what being claimed was. Olivia McKenn
a was always supposed to end up being Olivia James. She was always supposed to be mine. My life took a turn which made me re-evaluate, but this is the first time in five years I’ve wondered if I took the wrong path. Seeing her on the floor bleeding, I suddenly felt real fear. After walking away, it’s finally sunk in that, although I never want her to be in that situation again, if she were, it could be some other guy by her side, holding her hand, whispering in her ear. She’ll always be my family. If I want to remain in their lives, I’ll have to swallow a fucking dirty, painful pill and watch her being loved by someone else, or worse, watch her loving someone else.

  “What is it? You look… scared,” Toby whispers, his voice sounds so far away. It takes a moment to still my thoughts.

  Blinking, I focus my eyes on him. “I’ve done things,” I murmur. “If she found out…”

  “She’d still fucking love you. This is Liv we’re talking about,” he shoots back.

  Threading my fingers together around the back of my neck, I look out of the window and skyward. “Shit, this isn’t going to be easy.”

  LIV

  Life has a way of slapping you in the face repeatedly sometimes. Like, if you’re too happy, reality dishes up a shark bite, and if you’re not careful, it will tear you apart. That’s how I felt this morning when my mum called and told me that Aunt Libby has cancer. The stories of how my parents, aunts, and uncles got together have been told time and time again over the years.

  Uncle Dane and Aunt Libby’s story was probably the saddest. After losing their families and being abused in a foster home, they found each other. Then Uncle Dane was asked to model and went away on a photoshoot for a few weeks. When he returned, Aunt Libby had vanished. It would be over ten years until he found her, only to nearly lose her again. That time was never fully explained to me. I just know it was pretty bad, and it involved her being kidnapped. Uncle Dane loves Aunt Libby with a ferocity that I can only hope to have someone feel for me one day. He calls her Nova, his supernova. I don’t know what to do with this information, and although I’m hurting, I can only imagine the agony he’s going through right now.

  I’m not sure how long I sit on the sofa staring out the window with shock and sadness flowing through my veins. A knock on the door makes me jump, and I half-heartedly shuffle to the door and open it. My eyes take in Toby, but I say nothing. I just turn around and walk back to my spot on the sofa.

  “Are you all right?” he asks sitting next to me.

  I shake my head. “Not really. You?”

  “It’s shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Our conversation stalls.

  “Have you spoken to Isaac?” he asks, and it’s the last thing I expect him to say.

  I turn to face him and frown. “No, should I have?”

  He shrugs in response. “Yes, no, maybe. I don’t know.”

  I frown harder. “What?”

  “We had a chat,” he reveals.

  “About?”

  “You, me, us.”

  “Us?” I question, my voice breaking on the word.

  “Not us, us. But the bigger us, you know? You, Isaac, me.”

  I rub my eyes and blink a couple of times. “You’re making no sense, Toby, and my brain is too fried to decipher, so spit it out.”

  “He wanted to know what happened the other night. He was pissed that I hurt you.”

  I close my eyes and let the warm feeling slide through me, before pushing it away and remembering he has a girlfriend.

  “Did you explain?” I ask, curious. He still hasn’t told me exactly why he acted the way he did and even though I’ve tried not to, a small part of me is still holding a grudge about his behaviour.

  “Yeah. I know I told you it was about being in his shadow, but it was more than just women and things. A little while ago I got some documentation, including letters, stuff that belonged to our birth mother.”

  “Oh,” is all I can manage as I sit shocked.

  “The letters were mainly filled with how much they loved Isaac, then when I came along, how they wanted to have me adopted. They didn’t want me, Liv.”

  I gasp as my eyes fill with tears, and I reach out my hand to him. Toby quickly grabs it and holds tight.

  “Toby.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve known about it for a long time. I was overwhelmed the other night. I’d never dealt with what the letters said or the emotion I felt. After speaking to Isaac, I feel better. Then we had a Skype call with Lawson too, and hashed some stuff out. Honestly, I’m good.”

  “Good,” I croak.

  “But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to explain why I behaved like a wankstain, and I also wanted to apologise, again.”

  “You’re forgiven.” He frowns. “Honestly, this time you’re truly forgiven,” I say with a smile, and Toby grins back. He knows me well and knew I was still smarting over what happened.

  We sit quietly, but he keeps our fingers threaded. I can’t stop my thoughts wandering all over the place.

  “You know he still loves you.”

  “No. He has Shelly,” I respond, not looking at him.

  “She’s not real.”

  I tear my eyes from the window and whirl to meet Toby’s. “What?”

  He grimaces, and I wonder if he overshared. “I mean, his feelings for her aren’t real. He’ll always love you.”

  I turn back to the window. “Maybe, but he’ll never choose me.”

  “Maybe he will.”

  I sigh. “Maybe it will be too late.”

  I feel Toby deflate. “Maybe.”

  “Jesters tonight?” I murmur down the phone line to Helena while eyeing Toby as he fries bacon.

  “Yeah, I have a late client. I’ll grab Holly and meet you both there?”

  “Sure. Don’t forget I still want my new tat.”

  She sighs, and I can almost feel her nodding against her will. “Sure. When?”

  “Well, it’s my first night back at work tomorrow so let’s go for the weekend?”

  “Sure.”

  Helena hangs up, and I look over at Toby as he makes the first bacon sarnie. I walk past and grab one, half shoving it in my mouth.

  “Damn you, woman,” he moans. I wink in reply and walk into my room shutting the door behind me and opening my wardrobe with one hand, while pushing more food into my mouth with the other.

  My phone starts ringing. “Dammit,” I complain, nearly choking when I see it’s Isaac calling.

  “‘Lo,” I answer, still chewing.

  “Via.” His voice is like a comfort blanket wrapping around me. I imagine throwing it off as my spine straightens.

  “Isaac, what do you want?” I sigh.

  “I want to see you.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Give me one solid reason why?”

  “Shelly.”

  Silence follows, I almost call his name to see if he’s still there.

  “Via.” My name is merely a murmur, so soft as if he’s caressing it. “It’s always been you.”

  My breath catches, and I throw the remainder of my food in the bin before squeezing my eyes shut, trying to stop the inevitable tears. After a minute, I calm down enough to talk.

  “Then tell me what happened in those five years, tell me why you wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “No,” his reply is instant.

  “No?” I practically spit the word. With a shake of my head, it dawns on me that no matter my feelings, or his, there will never be anything more between us because there’s already so much. A mass of insurmountable obstacles stopping the real connection taking root.

  “Via, I’m—”

  “Don’t bother,” I cut him off. “You have Shelly, and you won’t be honest with me. I don’t think there’s anything more to add.”

  He sighs. “Via, there is so much more, I just can’t tell you. Not yet.”

  I drop backwards onto my bed, covering my eyes with my forearm. “Isaac, listen, when you’re single, and ready
to be completely honest, then come find me, if I’m still available.”

  “What the fuck does if I’m still available mean?” he growls.

  “Goodbye Isaac,” I hiss cutting him off as he calls my name.

  I give myself only a few moments to wallow in self-pity. Not so long that I feel the need to go out and find Helena so she can slap some sense into me.

  Standing, I do ten star jumps to get the blood pumping. I shake my whole body out and awaken my inner dancer. “Right, let’s find the perfect outfit,” I say to myself moving back to my wardrobe. When going to clubs these days, I see most women wearing tight pencil skirts with bandage style crop tops. I rarely do. It restricts my dancing, and while most people go to clubs to find a sexual partner or at least a little flirtation, I go to dance. “You,” I mumble, pulling out a black crop top and black leggings with silver crosses printed all over them. I tug the leggings on and slip the top over my head, adding a pair of black ankle boots with pin-thin high heels. I finish off my makeup and brush my now long platinum hair. Finally satisfied with my appearance, I face myself in the mirror and smile devilishly. Tonight I’m going to heat up the dance floor.

  “Is it a whiskey or wine night?” Toby asks as we enter the club.

  I glance back at him and shout above the music, “If you bring me wine tonight, I may stab you with my heels.”

  “Noted.” He smirks and heads toward the bar.

  A few hours later and after a brief conversation with everyone, I’ve left them back at a table on the balcony overlooking the dance floor so they can see me. Going downstairs, my eyes meet Josh, a guy I have been dancing with all night.

  “You’re back,” he shouts as he joins me among the sweaty bodies.

  “Shhh,” I reply pressing my finger to his lips.

  I close my eyes and lose myself to the rhythm. The songs change from one to another, time and time again. Mid-song a prickle canters across my skin, and my eyes shoot open searching the crowd. I spot him. Standing head and shoulders above everyone, his eyes are hooded and roaming all over me. He spies Josh’s hand attached to my hip and even from across the room, I can see a muscle stretch and tighten in his cheek.