Page 2 of Twisted Truths
NASH
The closer I get to Barrenridge, the more my heart races.
When I left this stupid backwater town right after graduation, I swore I’d never return. Playing college ball over in the States was my ticket out of here, and I never looked back. At least, not until I got the phone call that changed my life forever. I didn’t think twice about hopping on a flight the day before I was supposed to sign my first two-way deal with the Boston Shamrocks and my affiliate NBA G League team, the Maine Wolves.
The pain in my chest intensifies, my breaths coming out in short, shallow pants as I fight off the panic attack building inside me.
“You okay, man?” Levi’s voice tears through my emotional breakdown, giving me something to focus on.
Swallowing down the knot of anxiety, I give my half-brother a blank look.
“Sorry. Stupid question,” he says with a groan, turning his gaze back to the single road leading into our hometown. “Ofcourse you’re not okay. What I meant was, is there anything I can do to, uh, you know … help?”
Emotions clog my throat as I shake my head and stare out the window at the barren landscape—it’s as empty as I feel inside. I can’t help but wonder if this is all my fault. If I hadn’t run away six years ago, would any of this have happened? Would they still be here?
“I spoke to Shane Elliot last night,” Levi says when I remain quiet.
This gets my attention. Shane’s a cop in Barrenridge. Being five years my senior, he was already a cop by the time I joined the high school basketball team. Unfortunately for him, being a new recruit put him in charge of dealing with our pranks when they got out of hand, which was more often than not. I ended up spending more time with Shane than I did his sister, Morgan, who Levi and I shared classes with.
“What did he have to say?” My voice is gravelly.
He winces. “They’re treating it as a murder-suicide.”
“Murder-suicide?” I repeat slowly, my brow furrowing as I turn back to face him. “Why would they think that? Who…?”
Levi remains quiet, but the look on his face tells me everything.
My stomach drops, and my hands ball into fists on my lap. “There’s absolutely no fucking way. Mum, Paul,andRylan? Nope. No way. Ziggy would never murder them then take her own life. How could they think that? It’s bullshit.”
“I know.”
I grit my teeth. “What’s Dalton saying?”
Levi sighs. “Nothing.”
That tracks. Dalton Stone, our sperm donor, is a cold-hearted arsehole who doesn’t give a shit about any of the children he sired. Which is why none of us want anything to do with the bastard.
Levi’s three months older than me, and our relationship has been rocky, to say the least. His mum was Dalton’s girlfriend in high school. Katerina Rohan fell pregnant to him on their graduation night. Two months later, he broke her heart, leaving Barrenridge for Sydney to attend university on a basketball scholarship.
That’s where he met Mum. She fell pregnant on their first date, and fortunately for her—or unfortunately, depending on who’s telling the story—they got married. A year after having me, Mum fell pregnant with Zara. She was Zara to everyone else, but to me she was Ziggy.
Dalton played two seasons in the National Basketball League for the Sydney Kings, but he tore his ACL and fractured his kneecap halfway through his third, ending his career.
I was six when we moved to Barrenridge. Basketball was my life. I lived and breathed the sport, sleeping in my Kobe Bryant LA Lakers jersey every night and wearing it every day. Mum had to bribe me to take it off so she could wash it. I was ecstatic when Dad signed me up for the local junior team.
Until I met the other players.
Despite only being kids, the rumour mill had gone into overdrive when we returned to the small mining and farming town. When I was introduced to the captain of the basketball team, I didn’t know why he had my last name. Were we cousins? Dad’s parents were dead, but he had an estranged brother, Kaleb. Was Levi his son?
While the answer was no, Kaleb had been more of a father to him than Dalton ever had been, and I envied their relationship, even resented it a little. Where Kaleb was encouraging and supportive towards Levi at every one of our games, Dalton rode my arse so hard, I’m surprised I could sit down.
I was never good enough for him.
Every night, Dalton would have me outside shooting free throws until I made one hundred baskets in a row. We spent our weekends going for long early morning runs followed by two-hour sessions on the outdoor court he installed in our backyard, and I spent my school holidays at basketball camps in Sydney. I was on a strict high-protein, low-carb diet from my tenth birthday, and when I turned thirteen, I got a full home gym—lucky me.
Is it any wonder I became an insufferable arsehole towards my half-brother and totally disowned my uncle? I was on a fast track to become a carbon copy of my father, and Zara liked to remind me daily. Sometimes I wonder if that’s the reason Mum left Dalton six months after my eleventh birthday.
I don’t know why Dalton fought for fifty-fifty custody of me and Ziggy. He didn’t give a shit about us. I guess I was his way of reliving his glory days, and Ziggy was a final ‘fuck you’ to our mum. My sister kept herself locked in her room when we were at Dad’s. I wish I could have joined her instead of working my arse off.
