Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He bites his lip. “Ryan, what is this all about? You said you weren’t ready to tell me, but don’t I deserve to know who I remind you of? Why haven’t you told me? Why hasn’t he told me?”
Tension knots in my chest. Since he arrived, it’s always been this dance between pleasure and pain, but the pain is particularly acute now that he’s confronted me with this.
“What’s happening?” he presses.
His probing eyes are too much for me, and I turn away, worried that if I look at him too long, he might read the truth in my expression.
Flashes of moments with Kieran push to the forefront of my mind, and I put my hands against the sides of my head, wishing I could yank out those memories as hot rage radiates in my chest. It takes me a moment to recover, to push those thoughts back.
“Ryan?”
I turn back, and that face…God, that face that at times can look so different…now I see Kieran. But only for a moment before the optical illusion fades and there’s Jonas again.
I understand why he wants to know. And he deserves to know. It’s not right that he should have to play an unwitting pawn in Simon’s perverse game. But I fear what sharing the truth will do, that it might reveal parts of my past I wish to remain hidden.
“Please talk to me, Ryan.”
You don’t have to tell him everything, I remind myself.
“When I was little, there was a guy named Kieran Haynes…”
Even just saying that name while looking at Jonas’s face is a struggle.
“He lived with us.”
I hate myself for deceiving Jonas. Makes me feel no better than Simon, since I’m not being as honest as I should be, conveniently leaving out our blood relation, but…well, that part, he might not understand.
“He was the son of a family friend,” I push on through with my half-truth. “Father took him in, treated him like his own kid. Kieran, Simon, and I got along great. Did everything together. We’d head into the woods and play or go to the library and read books together. Video games in the game room. It was like childhood is supposed to be, full of laughter and excitement. But then we got older, at that juncture in adolescence when light play collides with desires and feelings you don’t understand. And Father wasn’t the sort to talk to us about them.
“Simon and I experimented with those feelings together—we just didn’t know any other way—and as we got older, I developed feelings for Kieran. I confided in Simon about them, and he encouraged those feelings.”
“Were you and Kieran together? Romantically?”
I shake my head, a tear stirring in my eye. “And then Simon grew cold. I don’t know that people who don’t have twins can understand… When we were young, we could complete each other’s sentences, but during this time, when we were seventeen, I felt him put up a wall. Like he didn’t want me to see something in his mind. Eventually, I discovered he and Kieran had been messing around together. It felt like a sick betrayal from Simon. Cruel, even, given how much I’d discussed my feelings with him.”
“Whatever happened to Kieran?” Jonas asks, because he must know the story doesn’t end there.
Images surge through my mind. A rock held tight in my fist as I slam it into Kieran’s skull. Then Father’s: “It’s Kieran. Simon found him in the woods.”
“He passed away,” I say. “Our family was never the same after that.”
I study Jonas’s expression. He’s not an idiot.
“There’s more to it than that,” I confess, “but that’s as much as I’m willing to share. For now.”
“So this is someone you cared about?”
A conflicting mix of emotions—affection, love, lust, betrayal, rage—stir in my chest. It’s as confusing as my feelings tend to be whenever the subject of Kieran comes up.
“I did,” I admit. “And Simon cared about him too.”
Jonas’s expression twists up. “So why does he want me to be in a relationship with you?”
“I haven’t been able to piece that one together.”
“Could it be a peace offering, like if he brings you a look-alike to mess around with, then it makes up for what he did?”
I sincerely doubt that, but I’d rather not speculate. Not with Jonas. “Who’s to say? But there’s some insight for you into the fucked-up history of the Hawthornes.”
He approaches me and takes my hand. It’s a struggle to look at him, especially with all the fresh memories he’s brought up. “So I remind you of a guy you cared about? Who you loved?”
My gaze meets his briefly before trailing around his face, spying all those things that remind me of Kieran. I confess, “Yes. I loved him.”
A tear escapes my eye.
Jonas moves close, and seeing Kieran’s ghost moving toward me makes me want to pull away, but I stop myself as Jonas wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug.