Page 65 of Twisted Truths
“Hadley Jacobs,” Nash repeats, and I love the way he says it. “Tell me something about you, Hadley Jacobs.”
I frown. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
Anything.
For Nash, this request would be straightforward, natural even. His life revolved around his family, basketball, friends. I’m sure if I asked him, he would have so many things he could share about his life.
When I don’t say anything, he says, “Tell me about your family.”
After I joined the Sunfire Circle, our first indoctrinations were all about severing ties with who we used to be and erasing the noise of the outside world so we could make room for the divine light and walk the path of our sacred transformation. I was devastated when I discovered I had lost my sister, and while Jack and Dianne had been there for Madeline and me when we lost our parents, they were not family. Joining the Circle meant staying close to my sister, but it also meant hiding who I was. We don’t share where we come from or any personal details about our family. The congregation is our new family, the compound our new home.
I’ve shared a bedroom with Gianna for three years, yet I know nothing about her except she has an allergy to peaches and she loves to read the epic fantasy novels that she smuggled in with her. The members of the Circle are almost always running from something. They are welcomed into the congregation with open arms and whispered promises, before they’re stripped of their pasts until nothing remains other than obedience wrapped in the glow of false salvation.
For three years, I lived by their guidance, grieving for my sister in private. When you have nothing left, it’s not that difficult to forget where you came from.
“Madeline and I grew up in the outer suburbs of Sydney,” I tell him. “We didn’t have much growing up. Our dad…” My voice hitches when I mention the man who terrified me from my earliest childhood memories.
Nash reaches between us, linking our fingers together. The simple touch lends me strength to talk about my family for the first time in years.
I take a deep breath and continue. “Our dad was an alcoholic, and a violent man. Mum took the brunt of his anger, but I often heard my sister’s shrieks of pain and muffled sobs in the middle of the night as well. She tried tohide it from me, but I know he hurt her.” Memories of the panicked sounds and pleas to stop I would hear coming from my sister’s bedroom replay like a house of horrors, only it wasn’t a disturbing carnival experience. It was my real life.
“For some reason, I was always spared his wrath. He pretty much ignored my existence. One day, when I was six, Dad went too far. He and Mum were arguing about something, I don’t remember what it was, but I remember hiding in the hallway closet with Madeline, who was crying and shaking so hard, I thought we were going to be found. When the front door finally slammed shut and the house went silent, we sat there for a long time. I held Madeline’s hand until she stopped crying. It was late, and I was hungry, but I didn’t want to leave my sister.”
Nash mutters a soft curse, and it pulls me from my memories of the past.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, blinking away the tears in my eyes. “That was insensitive of me.”
“You lost your mum?”
Unable to say the words out loud, I simply nod.
“What happened to your dad?”
“He was arrested and died in prison. After a week of living on the streets, Madeline and I were put into care.”
He shakes his head. “I had no idea what you’ve been through.”
I sniff, desperately trying to hold in my tears. Nash is buried in his own grief; he doesn’t need to take on mine too. “Zara said you play for the NBA.”
Surprise flickers in his eyes, but he senses my desperation to change the topic. He clears his throat. “I’ve been playing for the Main Wolves in the NBA G-League since graduating Duke, but I just signed a two-year deal as the Shamrocks’ new point guard.”
A sad smile tugs on my lips, knowing he’s going to be leaving soon. “You must be good.”
Nash shrugs. “I work hard.”
“She was proud of you.”
His gaze drops to where our interlocked hands lay between our bodies. “I used to think basketball was everything, but I’d give it up in a heartbeat to have them back.”
I need to tell him about his nephew. He needs to know he’s not alone. “Nash?—”
“What am I supposed to do now, Hadley?” The raw emotion in his voice and anguish in his eyes have my vision blurring. “Everyone thinks she did it. They think she murdered them in cold blood. Am I supposed to go back to the States and just let whoever did this get away with it? How is that fair to Zara?”
“It’s not. But you don’t have to do it alone. Gabriel and I will help you figure out who did this.” He visibly flinches at the use of Gabriel’s name. “I know you don’t trust him because of your past, but I promise you, he’s not like the rest of his family. He wants to find out what happened to Zara as much as you do. If it turns out his family is involved, then we’ll both help you bring them down. They’ve taken enough.”
“I want to believe you,” he says, his voice hoarse. “But I still don’t fucking trust him.”
