Twisted Hearts: The Complete Duet
Page 1
Table of Contents
FREE NOVELLA
READER GROUP
FOREWORD
- DESIRE -
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
- REGRET -
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
- TRUST -
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
ALSO BY MAX
MAILING LIST
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TWISTED HEARTS
Copyright © 2020 Max Henry
Published by Max Henry
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Max Henry is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians, or artists mentioned in this book.
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FOREWORD
The TWISTED HEARTS DUET is set in a fictional town in New Zealand, and as such I have written in my native tongue and used NZ English spelling and some slang terms. The legal age of consent in New Zealand is sixteen years old.
Please bear these things in mind when following Zeus and Belle’s journey.
Much love,
Max
xx
Four simple rules when you’re a man on parole:
1. Don’t lust after your best friend’s daughter.
2. Don’t get into a physical fight over her.
3. Definitely don’t f*ck her.
4. And whatever you do, don’t fall in love.
I have a bad habit of breaking rules.
PROLOGUE
Belle (Age 7)
We made him cry before he gave in and said why he hadn’t been at school for a month. Marley Anderson’s mum was killed in a car accident. As soon as he told us, I remembered. Dad was quiet that day when he picked me up from school. The news story had been on the radio, and all over the papers that get delivered to our letterbox for at least a week.
A big truck lost control and squashed her car against the barrier. She didn’t have a chance at making it; that’s what Dad said when I asked him about it. Right before Mum stole the newspaper and told me, “Little girls shouldn’t be interested in depressing shit like this.”
I wish it was her. I wish it was her car that had been squashed against the concrete, not Marley’s mum’s.
Marley’s mum was nice. She was at the parents’ day, helping him with the activities our teacher set up. She helped me ice my cookie because my mum didn’t come.
My mum never comes. She’d rather stay home and drink. At least she won’t be home anymore now that she’s leaving.
Marley told me it’s not fair, that his mum died. Said he missed his mum and that she wasn’t supposed to leave him. I said life isn’t fair; my mother tells me that a lot, although I never really believed her until today.
My favourite boots scrape across the dry ground as I swing back and forth under the big branch, the rope creaking overhead with my weight. Mum makes Dad sad; that’s why I hate her the most. I don’t mind when she makes me sad, because I don’t love her. But Dad loves her, and I love Dad. Life isn’t fair, and neither is Mum.
The branches of the tree above me sway with the wind. The dark clouds in the sky tell me we’ll get rain, especially when I can hear thunder in the distance. I like storms. Mum says it because they’re miserable, like me. But I don’t think that’s right. Storms are powerful, proud. They’re strong, and I’m not strong. So they’re not like me.
“I’ve tried everything, given you everything, and yet here we are doing the same fucking dance. I’m done. Had it.”
If I was strong, I wouldn’t cry when my dad raises his voice. I wouldn’t cry because it means that he’ll be sad after, when Mum is drunk and asleep. I hate it when he’s sad because I can’t do anything to make him happy. He cuddles me, wipes my tears and tells me he loves me. But I wish he didn’t love her too. If I was strong enough, he wouldn’t need to love her too. He only loves Mum because I can’t make him happy.
“What are you doing out here, dove?”
I smile at Zeus as he walks across the yard. He’s Dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids like me, I think. He’s nice. He makes Dad happy, just not how Mum should.
“They’re fighting again.”
“It’ll be the last time, I promise.” He lifts my coat, holding it out for me.
I hop off the rope swing and walk over to him, slipping my arms inside. It’s warm because he held it against him on the way out here. It smells like him.
“Who is that man?” The stranger turned up before Mum and Dad started fighting agai
n. It must be his fault.
“Nobody.” Zeus looks sad. Maybe Mum makes him sad, too?
“Why is he here?”
“Your mum is going to live with him.” He squints a little. “Didn’t your dad tell you?”
“I thought it was just a story.”
I like Zeus. He’s big, and big people make me feel safe.
“It’s not a story.” He sits on the side of the deck and pats the wood beside him.
I climb up and tuck myself in next to him. He blocks the wind, and I feel warm. I like being warm, especially with Zeus.
“Will she come back?”
“Do you want her to?”
“No.” My answer upsets Zeus for some reason. He frowns at me, putting his strong arm around me and pulling me in tight.
“Dove….”
“Will Dad be happy now?”
“I hope so.” He stares across the yard as the cool breeze kicks up the dead leaves.
“Do I have to go inside?” I don’t like the man in the business suit. He’s strange. I don’t know any men who wear those kinds of suits—not in real life. Dad wears coveralls, and Zeus wears bright yellow shirts that are always covered in mud.
Those are the kinds of men I trust. Men like Dad and Zeus.
“I don’t think so.” Zeus smiles at me. He’s handsome. I heard my mum say it once to a friend, but she made it sound like a bad thing. I don’t think it’s bad. “How about I keep you company out here until he’s gone?”
“Okay.”
“What should we do?” he asks. “It might rain soon, so we might have to go in anyway.”
“I can swing until then. You can push me.”
“Okay.” He lifts me by my waist and sets me on the ground so I can go to the swing.
I climb onto where the rope knots around the piece of wood, balancing just right so that I don’t fall off. Zeus stays close just in case I do anyway. He likes to keep me safe, unlike Mum.
I got a ride home from a policeman once. Mum came to get me from school because Dad had to stay at work. She never comes to get me, so I don’t think she knew she couldn’t drink that day. It scared me a little when she hit the road sign, but the policeman said it could have been worse. He was glad it wasn’t.
Mum slept through dinner that night. I think that’s why she didn’t argue with Dad. He did everything for me. Made my favourite. It was weird when he sat in my room while I slept, but I think he was just happy that I was okay. I made him happy that day.
I overheard him tell Zeus, “The bitch could have killed her.” I think the bitch was Mum.
Normally Mum goes on holiday when her drinking is too bad, but she didn’t this time. Maybe she got enough rest at home? She slept a lot.
Marley said he wishes his mum was just asleep. I do too. Then she could wake up and make Marley happy again.
I wish my mum would go to sleep and never wake up.
Maybe then Dad and I would be happy too?
“Ready?”
I smile at Zeus and nod. “Yep.”
At least we have him. Zeus makes us both happy. Maybe one day Zeus can live with us instead. I think that would make Dad happy. It would make me happy too.
Zeus plucks a dandelion flower as I kick my legs, and hands it to me when I swing near to him.
“Make a wish, dove. Make it a good one.”
I lift the stem to my lips, knowing exactly what I want as I watch him come and go beside me.
I want for everyone to be happy.
I pull in a deep breath and blow; the fluffy pieces get whipped away on the wind. Perfect.
“What did you wish for?” Zeus asks as the first spots of rain tickle my face.
“It’s a secret.” If I tell him, it might not come true. And I want it to come true.
I want Zeus to make us all happy.
One day.
ONE
Belle (Now)
The sun is out in full force today, which means half the school first fifteen play an off-season game of rugby on the green, shirtless. Naturally my best friend Kate and I have set ourselves up under the trees that border the field, making the most of the goods on display.
I’m riding a high that only the last full day of high school brings. Final-year exams start next week, which means outside of attending those, my days in the classroom are done. I’m unshackled from the restrictions of a schedule, let loose from the expectations of the state.
Nine hours of testing to go, and then I’m officially a school-leaver.
An adult.
I rearrange my bag to act as a makeshift pillow and lean back, sliding my sunglasses over my eyes as Kate rummages in her bag. “Dad said I could go to Scott’s party next weekend. Even told me he’d buy me something to drink.”
Kate frowns, carefully peeling the wrapper from the base of her cupcake. “I thought we weren’t doing that?”
“Why not?”
“Last week you said you didn’t want to go.”
“Yeah, well last week I didn’t have a personal invite from Scott.”
“No way.” Her eyes go wide and her jaw hangs slack.
“Way.” I lift my hand for a high five.
She slaps it with her own. “When did he do that?”
“Third period, English.”
“Tell me everything then.” She takes a bite of her baked goods, smiling around the mouthful while she watches me, and then swallows. “What exactly did he say?”
I grin at the memory and stretch out. “He said it would be a shame if we never got a chance to hang before we go our own way.”
“Hang out.” She scoffs before she takes another bite. “Whatever. We’re totally getting shit-faced and you are getting it on.” She waggles her eyebrows at me before she seemingly stares off into nothing. “Damn. What am I going to wear?”
“You look fine whatever you choose.” It frustrates me; she really does. The girl could wear a thrift shop bargain two sizes too large for her and still look hot.
The guys are bound to love her, and as usual, she’s bound to make me invisible in the process.
“Dad’s picking me up, though.” I groan. “Said he’d pick us both up, actually.”
“We’ll tell him I drank too much and Scott’s mum gave me a bed for the night.”
“Yeah, I’ll think of something.”
“I’ll tell my parents that your dad is getting us and I’m staying at yours.”
“He works nights now.” I don’t really know why I choose to share that with her other than the change in hours has niggled at me since he took the offer a month ago.
We need the extra money, and moving to the late shift means penalty rates. The decision was a no-brainer, which is exactly what I told him when he asked if I was okay with the idea. Still, it sucks. Dad and I might not have done much in the evenings, but those cheesy TV shows, the two of us cozied on the sofa together… that was our time. That was what we’d done since Mum left. I guess the realisation that I’m growing up—that those moments won’t last forever—took me by surprise.
I’ve been so focused on proving that I’m a young adult that I forgot to make the most of being a child.
“Must be quiet on your own then.” Kate sets her rubbish aside and promptly hitches her tank up her stomach to tuck the hem beneath her bra. She wriggles on the grass, scrunching the legs of her shorts together until the black material almost resembles a belt, and then spreads out to catch the rays.
“It’s not too bad.” I shrug. “I’ve got Netflix and a ridiculous amount of data.”
She chuckles, brushing her hair aside. “I’d love to be on my own at night. The things I’d get up to, the guys I’d sneak in….”
“You’re a fucking nymphomaniac,” I say with a laugh. “It’s all you think about.”
“Babe.” She lifts her eyebrows. “I’d have to be fucking to be a nympho.”
“True that.”
“Speaking of….”
I slip my sunglasses to my forehead and tu
rn my face her way. “Yeah?”
“Would you mind if I invited someone else to join us at Scott’s?”
“Who?” I get the distinct feeling I’m not the only one who hasn’t been sharing everything of late.
“So, there’s this guy that does my brother’s mechanical work, right?” She bites her bottom lip, fighting the most ridiculous goofy smile. “He’s twenty-one, and babe, he’s so fucking fine.”
“Have you…?”
Her eyes go wide. “Not yet. No way. Damn, I’d tell you if I had.” Her cheeks flush as she smiles at me. “I’ve been drooling over this guy for weeks, Belle, and Saturday he finally decides to talk to me.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “Hello. Messenger, bitch.”
“I wasn’t sure if he was keen, you know? Like most of the guys always see me as Trent’s baby sister and give me hell. But the signals he was throwing off….” She sighs, her eyes glazed as she loses herself to the memory.
I clear my throat, lifting both eyebrows. “And?”
“He messaged me last night. I swear to God I almost died when the notification came up.”
“What did he say?” I cry, damn near hysterical. The suspense is killing me. I live my love life vicariously through her escapades, each story like a new hit.
“He fucking sent me a picture,” she groans. “You know the kind.”
I make grabby hands for her bag, and she swats me away.
“No way. I’m not ready to share yet. But I promise….” Another sigh. “You’ll love him, Belle.”
“So ask him to come.” I narrow my gaze on her. “You think a guy your brother’s age wants to hang out with school leavers though?”
“Only one way to know if he’s keen.” She smiles woefully. “I reckon if he does come out with us I might be able to, you know….”
“Get him liquored enough to go through with it?” I tease, slipping my glasses back on.
The back of her hand collides with my arm. “Hush, woman. He’s not that far out of my league.”
“Didn’t say he was. I mean he’s only three years older, right?” Not as though he’s in his thirties….
Something twists in my gut as I recall the crush I developed on Dad’s best friend a few years ago: guilt, shame? Whatever it is, the unease that builds and flows into my chest is unwelcome as I think back to how hard it was processing those new feelings, how long I struggled before I managed to remind myself how wrong it would be for anything like that to happen between Zeus and me.