Twisted Truth (Truth Vs Lie Book 1)

by Maria Macdonald

  “No. To the funeral.”

  “Why?” she whispers.

  “Because I need to do this. My family doesn’t know what happened. I’m just thankful my face never looked too bad, and although my ribs are bruised, they aren’t broken. There’s nothing visible.”

  “I know all that. It still doesn’t explain why you’re not taking me.”

  “Your face won’t pass, Hel. I don’t want the questions. Uncle Saul knows what happened, and so does Toby. The rest don’t have a clue, and they never need to know.” I pull my hand through my hair. “Anyway, I need to just be normal for the day, to be allowed to grieve my uncle. I don’t want a barrage of questions about your bruised face.”

  She sighs as her shoulders drop. “I get it, I do. But if you need me, you call, and I’ll be there straight away.”

  “Thanks. You’re a great friend.”

  “The best,” she informs me with a smile.

  “The best,” I repeat.

  “What are you going to do about Isaac?”

  Although the tears have stopped, my face is still wet, so I wipe it with the back of my hand. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll probably try to act normal around him, you know? I don’t need the questions.”

  “Hmmm…” is all she responds with.

  “Look. Let’s not talk about this right now. What’s going on with you and Noah?”

  Helena can’t stop the smile from forming. “He called last night. We were supposed to be going for dinner, remember?” I nod. “Well, he officially asked me out on a date.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I…”

  “What?”

  “I said yes, but I also said it would have to be in a couple of weeks.” Her eyes dart around the room.

  “What’s wrong?” I coax.

  “I kind of used the excuse of your Uncle Dane dying. I said you needed me, and that I would love to go on a date, but couldn’t right now.”

  My eyes widen and I bite at my nails. “Because of the bruises?”

  Helena nods. “Yeah, because of the bruises.”

  “Well, that makes sense.”

  She nods and hangs her head a little. I know we’re both a little fucked up from what’s happened. Still wading through our emotions is a daily task. We were offered counselling, and Helena accepted. I didn’t. The weird thing is we never had any police question us. Some suits came around accompanied by my gentle giant, who introduced himself as Darwin. He told us they just needed our signatures on some documentation. It was a nondisclosure agreement, so we wouldn’t talk about what happened. I was shocked. I expected police and statements, maybe even a court case. I shouldn’t have been that surprised, though. Of course, the government is going to cover their arses. Although, I’m not even sure they were the actual government.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask softly.

  “Do you think we’ll get through this?” Her voice is scratchy as she pushes the question out.

  I throw my arms around her. “Do we have a choice?”

  “I guess not.”

  We both sit silently rocking back and forth, each caught within our own thoughts.

  There’s a knock at the door, and I know it’s Toby. He’s come to pick me up. I couldn’t face the funeral alone, and since being kidnapped, he’s been my rock. Helena’s still asleep, so I straighten my waistcoat and hurry to the front door.

  Swinging the door open, I stumble backwards and nearly trip over my heels when it’s Isaac I see and not his brother. His arm reaches out and wraps around my back stopping me from falling.

  “Th-Thank y-you,” I stutter, pulling away and laying my palm flat against the wall for support.

  “Toby is with Mum. She needs him. Dad asked if I would come get you,” he informs me. His voice is level, clinical, and it doesn’t suit him.

  I stare open-mouthed at him. I shouldn’t ogle a man dressed for a funeral, but I can’t help it. He’s beautiful in the most deadly way—all sharp edges yet beguiling.

  “That makes sense,” I answer, trying to fill the awkward silence I created. “I-I’ll just grab my stuff.” I turn around and walk a few feet into the living room. When I don’t hear the door shut, I turn back. Isaac is still standing in the doorway. His black suit against the black shirt looks like it was made for him, and the open collar shows off his corded throat and chiselled jawline to perfection. “Come in,” I order. A cold feeling washes over me as I realise the chasm between us is growing by the day. Never before would I have had to invite him in. He steps into the hallway and slowly closes the door. His eyes travel down my body and back up again, and I watch his throat as it pulses when he swallows.

  Moving to the full-length mirror, I check my reflection one last time. Black fitted trousers, a white shirt, and a black waistcoat confine my body, while my feet feel comfortable in black patent heels. I tie a sheer black ribbon around my head pushing my hair away from my face as it hangs loosely down my back. It’s early September and quite a cool morning, so I pick up my purse and collect my charcoal wool coat placing it across my forearm. There’s nothing left to do except go to the funeral, but my body doesn’t want to move, and my mind refuses to force it.

  “Come on. I’ve got you.” It’s the first warm words that have spilt from Isaac’s lips since he arrived. I blink up at him, and he’s there, my Isaac is there. Almost like he can read my mind, he schools his features, and his face once again becomes blank.

  “Let’s go,” I grind out, pushing past him, past his outstretched hand, past his bullshit. I descend the stairs before he can offer me any more soft words just to rip them away again.

  My fingernails dig into the pasty skin of my arm. Apart from the tattoos, I’m so pale. If it were any other day, I’d be worried about myself. The morning chill whispers across the hairs on my arms, which all stand like little soldiers ready for battle. Encased in a brittle outer shell, my heart slows down, the thrumming heavy in my chest as grief eats me up from the inside out. My dad holds me, but Isaac’s hand running up and down my spine is the only thing I feel. The tears collect and disperse, then collect and disperse again, a rhythmical flow of sorrow journeying down my face.

  I’m close to my family, but the last few years I’ve wanted to step out, to be my own person and discover life. My visits home have slowed somewhat. Now I’m regretting being selfish and not spending enough time with those who love me. I glance over to my mum as she stares up at the sky, I follow her lead and look up too. The sheen of emotion coating my eyes make the outlook blurry. I can’t help but giggle at the thought, and upon doing so I gain a few disapproving stares from those random mourners you always seem to get at funerals.

  My whole outlook is blurry. I miss my aunt, and now I’m going to miss my uncle. My family is distraught, and I’ve not been here for them. Then there’s Isaac and the issues we share. He’s a mind fuck all on his own. No matter how much I try to prise my emotions apart so I can make sense of them, I never seem to be able to thread them back together in any plausible way. The same thoughts run through my brain almost on a loop. Isaac kills people. Isaac doesn’t want me. I love Isaac. I love Isaac. Fuck, I love Isaac.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  ISAAC

  “You’re a fully grown arsehole,” Shelly snaps, launching her cup at my head. I move my head an inch to the side, and it whistles past my ear ending its travels against the gym wall. I arch my eyebrow and look behind me. Remnants of tea are both splashed against the wall and pooling on the floor. Liberally scattered pieces of the Avengers mug—which was one of Shelly’s prized possessions—litter the floor. I turn back to Shelly.

  “Don’t you give me that look, Isaac James. You’re being a fucking dick, and you know it. You may be my boss, and I may be getting out…” she pauses, “… thank you for that by the way.” Her tone is lighter, and I tip my lips up at her quick change, but then she morphs back into angry bitch. “Don’t you smile about this. You need to go and get the girl. She loves you, and yo
u wounded her, and the fucking reason you did it was because you were hurt by her reaction to your truths.”

  I settle back against the machine I was using, knowing Shelly isn’t even a tenth of the way through her tirade, and I’m best just to let her continue. “Maybe if you had been honest with her, trusted she could handle your truth, that she loved you enough to deal with the person you really are, accept all of you, Isaac… all of you.”

  Shelly slides down the wall and hangs her head. “I have no one. I grew up with no family, nobody looking out for me. I liked one boy when I was a teenager.” She holds up her finger and whispers, “Just one, Isaac. I was only fourteen when we got together, and he looked at me like I made his world spin, the same way you look at Liv.”

  With a strangled sigh Shelly drops her head against the wall. “We were seventeen and got into a car wreck, Simon died.” She levels me with her eyes. “Just like that.” With a click of her fingers, she releases a single tear.

  “I’ve never been here, Shelly.”

  “Been where?”

  “Drowning.”

  “Then kick your fucking feet and remember to breathe, Isaac… remember who you are, before you can’t anymore.” Pushing herself up from the wall, she heads toward the door.

  “Shelly?” I call. She stops still but doesn’t turn around. “I hate that for you. Hate that you had that. You’ve never shown interest in anyone, not until Toby.” Her shoulders tense.

  “He’ll look at you like you make his world spin. I know he would if you wanted to offer him the chance.” Her shoulders drop, and she continues, leaving the gym and heading back toward the house.

  I scrub my hand down my face and start cleaning up the broken mug on the floor. At least that’s one mess I can do something about. Once I’m done, I sit with my back against the mirrored wall and pull out my phone hitting some buttons and placing it to my ear.

  “Isaac?”

  “Does she hate me? Just be honest, Toby.”

  He takes a second and sighs heavily. “No, Isaac, she doesn’t hate you. That’s not the problem.”

  “What then?” I demand.

  “Shit man, she loves you, that’s the fucking problem. She loves you, and you broke her.”

  I feel the emotion clawing at my throat and brush my thumb over my eye. I’m surprised when I pull it away and feel moisture. “I need to fix this. I need to speak to her.” I rush out, rising from my lingering pity party on the floor.

  “You can’t,” Toby tells me, sympathy in his voice.

  “What do you mean?” I shoot back.

  “She’s gone.”

  “What the fuck, Toby? Spit this shit out,” I growl.

  “Liv and Helena went on holiday yesterday. They took off to a villa in Portugal. I’m not sure how long they’ll be gone, maybe you should wait until they get back?” he replies.

  “Fuck that. Gotta go,” I instantly mutter.

  I jab at my phone again.

  “Control.”

  “This is Kane. I need a location of Olivia McKenna and Helena Todd. They would have taken a flight out of a London airport yesterday heading to Portugal. I want an exact location sent to my phone and book me on the next flight to the nearest airport from that location. Text me the details.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I cut the call and stalk through the gym and back to the house. Most of the guys are hanging around waiting for their next assignment, deciding whether to bail or stay with a new team. Shelly is sitting in the corner, eyes firmly on the TV, her face relaying that she’s pissed off. Even though there are chairs either side of her, the men have given her a wide berth and are balancing on the edge of the sofa arms just to stay away from her. I chuckle, and her eyes slice to me.

  “What the fuck have you got to smile about?” she grinds out.

  “I’m going to get her.”

  Her eyes widen, but I ignore it as I walk to my bedroom, pack a bag, and grab my passport. I leave my team and the house behind. Checking my phone, I jump on my bike and head to the airport.

  The heat in Portugal isn’t stifling like it can be in England, but that doesn’t stop my top from sticking to my chest. I hurry to find the car that was booked for me and relish the air conditioning, which I put on full blast before heading to the complex. The villa Via is staying in is part of a bigger complex located in Lagos. My connections managed to secure another villa for me, within the same complex only a quarter mile away from theirs. Checking my watch, I note that it’s siesta time. Each villa is private with its own pool, so I can’t just wander over and find her. When I arrived, I spotted a bar, and after a quick shower and change, I head out there.

  Tourists are everywhere, and those obviously single women aren’t backward in coming forward. I try to ignore them and instead strike up a conversation with the bartender, Marco. It’s unlike me, but I need a distraction, and if those women eyeing me think I’m gay, that works in my favour.

  “So, this the only bar in the complex?” I ask him, looking around and trying to get the lay of the land.

  “Yep, although there is a club on site, too. This place is more for the day and lazy evenings. We also provide food.” He tells me, his broken English better than my broken Portuguese.

  “Food?” I question.

  A phone behind the bar starts ringing, and he chucks me a menu as he turns to answer it.

  “Ola!” he greets as I turn my eye to the menu.

  I expect it to be all bar food—hot dogs, fries, burgers, and the like—but am impressed when I see it’s a restaurant-worthy menu.

  “It’s good, no?” he questions.

  “Yeah. I didn’t expect you to have this much selection,” I reply.

  He shrugs. “The tourists don’t always like to travel far, so it helps to have it on site.”

  “You mean they’re fucking lazy,” I reply with a chuckle.

  He just smiles as I grab my bottle and down my beer. I go back to watching the pool area slightly to the left of the bar until another phone call grabs my attention.

  “Si, One, One, Five, Landsdown. Thirty minutes.”

  The address repeats in my head until I realise it’s Via’s villa address.

  “You do deliveries, Marco?”

  “Si,” he answers.

  I stand and throw a tip on the counter.

  “Adios,” Marco calls to me.

  I nod my head and make my way back toward the villas now I know she’s there. I’ve waited too long. I need to see her, feel her, touch her. She needs to know that I love her, no matter what, and I’ll beg her to look past my darkness.

  Making my way to her villa, I see lights on out the back and can hear voices, so I walk around to the back gate.

  I realise too late I should have knocked on the front door, I should have texted or called her first… I should’ve never got on that plane.

  “So what now? It’s been nearly a month since we were kidnapped. Don’t you think that you need to talk to him?” I recognise the voice as Via’s roommate, Helena.

  There’s a slight rustle followed by a low groan, and I step closer so I can see them both. They’re lying on a couple of sun loungers, Helena’s facing Via, but my girl is staring into the sky. She’s wearing sunglasses, but I can still see the stiffness of her body.

  “You know I texted him. I wanted to make things right, but he ignored me.”

  “We went over this, Liv, you need to try again.”

  “Hel. Please stop it. He came to pick me up for Uncle Dane’s funeral.”

  “Fuck, he did? You didn’t mention it.”

  The tension washes away as Via’s body slumps on the lounger. “He was so cold, Hel. His face was blank, and when he didn’t come in without me asking him, I realised that there was such a wedge between us. Apart from giving me a little comfort at the funeral, he pretty much ignored me. He had his chance, I know it was a funeral, but he could have said something, anything. Hell, he could have asked to meet with me a week later. He did nothin
g, Hel, nothing.”

  “So, Liv? You can still fix it.”

  I watch as Via sits up on the lounger, swinging her lithe tattooed legs over the side and proceeds to shred my heart, which is no less than I deserve.

  “Honestly, Hel? His kiss with Shelly is burned into my brain. I think that was to push me away, but it killed me… it fucking killed me,” she whispers the last part, swiping her finger past her left eye. “Even after that, I texted him, gave him the chance to talk to me. He didn’t take his chance.” Via hangs her head. “I wonder if there is a reason for that. Maybe Isaac is trying to let me down gently? Or, maybe the universe is telling me to give up.” She shrugs and raises her head again to look at Helena. “Either way, I’m done. It’s too painful, and I can’t go through it anymore. I can’t keep breaking because one day I might not recover.” Via stands gathering her bottle of water and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. She stares at Helena with pure belief in her words. “Maybe one day Isaac James will be ready, maybe he’ll be able to give himself over to another person, to love another person completely. Hopefully, he can be honest and good, and everything a woman needs. Maybe one day, but that day isn’t today, and that person isn’t me.”

  In that moment, my Via disappears. Olivia McKenna morphs in front of me, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve lost her. She’s gone… and so has my heart.

  LIV

  ONE YEAR LATER

  With my black leather cap and the tiny lingerie set, I prowl on stage to ‘Weak’ by SWV. The dances are different these days. The old me would have danced to this song and slowly stripped my clothes until there was nearly nothing left covering my body.

  Although now I’m not wearing much, it sometimes feels restricting compared to before, and I have to admit dancing in a show has taken some getting used to, but I love it. It’s a burlesque show with a modern twist. I dance, I pick my songs, and I look sexy, but I don’t take my clothes off.

  The best thing was I didn’t have to let Allegro down as this was a secondary adventure of hers, which actually turned out to be her primary one after it took off. The number of people who come to see our show is so much more than we expected it would be, and that means we’re mostly sold out. There’s something about the fact we don’t remove our clothes which suddenly makes women feel like it’s okay to come see us. We’ve gone mainstream. I giggle at my thoughts as I leave the stage.