Page 62 of Twisted Truths
Needing some space from him so I can sort through my jumbled thoughts and emotions, I motion for Hadley to follow me. “I’ll show you to the spare room.”
Her quiet footsteps follow me towards the front door, where I retrieve my bags, then I lead her to the spare bedroom.Thankfully, it’s on the other side of the house from my parents’ and Rylan’s rooms—I’m not ready to face those demons yet. Unfortunately, it’s across the hall from Zara’s bedroom and down the hall from mine. I still haven’t set foot in my sister’s bedroom, too scared of what I’ll see.
Pushing open the door to the spare room, I flick the light switch, bathing the small room in a soft, warm glow. Mum hated the harshness of fluorescent lighting, so the house always had a sort of cosy feeling. It drove Paul wild; he’d grumble about how he could never find anything in the dim light, but he never changed a single bulb. Not once. He put up with it because he loved her. Now, with all of them gone, the glow feels heavier somehow.
The memory hits me out of nowhere, and I don’t even realise I’ve zoned out until Hadley’s soft voice breaks through.
“Nash?” She touches my arm, and I flinch, causing her to shrink away from me.
Closing my eyes, I mutter an apology. I’m losing my fucking head. I take a few deep breaths before opening them, and I’m immediately struck by her innocent beauty. Her long auburn hair frames her delicate face, and she’s biting down on her bottom lip as she stares at me with those enchanting green eyes. I groan internally, wanting nothing more than to sink my own teeth into those plush lips, but I need to stop thinking with my hormones and start thinking with my head.
“Are you really okay with us staying?” she asks quietly, fingering the locket around her neck.
“You’ve got nowhere else to go.”
Hadley considers this for a moment. “I didn’t know it was your family’s house.”
I shrug. What am I supposed to say in response to that?
“I also didn’t know your history with Gabriel and the Circle.”
“It is what it is,” I grit out, not wanting to rehash it any further.
She moves farther into the room, running her fingers over the patterned bedspread.
I should leave. Ineedto leave, but for some reason I hesitate. “How did you get involved with them? You’re not from around here, so how did they lure you in?”
“My sister,” Hadley says, tears shining in her eyes as she glances down at the locket around her neck, and my stomach sinks. “Madeline met Gabriel in Sydney and moved here to be with him.”
I clench my jaw. Gabriel’s like a fucking Venus flytrap. I’m surprised his parents kicked him out when he’s single-handedly bringing them new victims. “What happened to her?” My throat is dry, causing my voice to come out all raw and jagged.
Hadley sinks onto the edge of the bed, dropping her eyes. “She died during childbirth.”
My shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too,” she says sniffing.
The silence that settles over us is heavy. She’s right there, close enough to reach out and touch, and part of me wants to lose myself in her. But I’m cooked. I’ve got nothing left to give tonight. I’m drowning in grief and ghosts, especially now I’m back in this house.
“I should go,” I finally murmur.
Hadley nods, brushing her fingers over her wet cheek. “Okay.”
She’s not okay, but neither am I.
Hesitating again, I glance back at her. “I’m down the hall if you need anything.”
I don’t know why I tell her that, but she nods.
“Goodnight, Hadley.” My voice is low, thick.
“Goodnight, Nash.”
Closing the door gently behind me, I release a heavy exhale as I stare at the one opposite. I take one step towards Ziggy’s room. Then another. I’m close enough that all I’d have to do is lift my hand to grip the knob. But I can’t do it.
Swallowing down the lump forming in my throat, I back away and walk the few feet to my teenage bedroom. I haven’t been in here since I left for Duke six years ago. It’s like a time warp. The old basketball posters still hang on the walls. My trophies line the shelves Paul and I installed above my desk when I was fifteen.
I slip my suit jacket off and hang it over my desk chair, then move over to the bed. Rubbing a hand over my face, I try to breathe through the ache settling in my chest. The house is too quiet. There’s no music coming from Ziggy’s room. I can’t hear Rylan’s laughter, or Mum’s singing, or Paul’s terrible dad jokes. There’s nothing but silence and haunted memories.
