His Twisted Heart by Ellie R Hunter
Chapter Twenty-Five
Victoria
Ileft anger behind a while ago, but in its place is an overwhelming sadness I can’t escape. I’ve often wondered who else has loved someone so much, the world could be burning around them and they wouldn’t feel a thing because they were in their love’s arms. I have, and so has Luca, only I was never the one he was holding in the flames. She hasn’t been in town for a long while, but he still clung to the memory of her. I believe he loved me in some way, but now he just hates me. I also believe without a doubt that he loves her far more than he could ever love me, even if he tried.
Sara Lancaster.
I’d recognise her anywhere, no matter how much time has passed. I don’t know what made me look their way. It’s not like I heard Luca chasing her down the stairs. I can’t peel my gaze away from them. And when she walks out, I watch Luca intently. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his pain clear for all to see. He’d hate showing any emotion in front of anyone, but it’s like he’s frozen in time and can’t stop himself. Deep down, I always knew he’d see her again one day, and that I’d lose him altogether. Not that he was ever mine to begin with. Now the day has arrived, and my already broken heart shatters all over again. There were moments between us I thought he could be mine, but then he’d push me away and prove me wrong. He always proved me wrong.
When he catches me staring, he flinches. But the moment he understands I saw her, his face stones over.
He takes a step toward me, but I quickly look away.
Grampa nudges my arm and signs angrily, “Explain yourself!”
Today’s the first time I’ve been to the club since my grandfather’s fake funeral, and I only came because he summonsed me. If I didn’t come, he’d risk being seen coming out to the house. Believing I lost him a few weeks ago was bad enough. I don’t want to lose him for real.
“It was a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again,” I sign, assuring him.
He’s so angry with me. I can tell by the strain of his throat working overtime that he’s yelling at me with his fingers and hands flying through the air.
“Damn straight it won’t! Do I have to make arrangements to keep an eye on you myself just to be sure?”
Shaking my head, I tear my eyes away from him and his disappointment. I let down my whole family last night, and even though I can’t hear their voices telling me I fucked up, I can see it all over their faces. Losing my hearing has opened my other senses, and quite often it’s worse. Last night, I put a gun to my head, desperately wanting to end everything. My excuse to my family after Emma walked into the greenhouse and found me was that I was asked out on a date and had to turn him down because I wouldn’t be able to communicate with him, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.
The truth is, I’ve had enough of wallowing in my own sadness and grief. I’m fed up with watching the world pass me by and being left behind. I’m thankful and grateful my family learned how to sign so I wouldn’t feel so alone, but after they’ve communicated with me, they get to go back to speaking and listening with their ears instead of their eyes. It’s exhausting.
I thought moving into my grandparents’ house would bring me the peace I sought, and to some degree, it has, because when I’m out there alone, I can forget I no longer hear. It’s brief, and it’s glorious, but then someone will stop by, reminding me of my new life, and the sadness overwhelms me.
Emma talked me around and pleaded for me to see happiness is everywhere, and in turn, called Myles, who called my mom, who called my dad, who was with my grandpa and Mason. They all showed up except for Grandpa.
It was an episode, as I call them—my dark moments, and it passed. If my family knew how many episodes I’ve truly had, I’d never get rid of them. There’s been many times where I’ve held a gun to my head, or sat in the bath with a razor blade. One time, I tried drowning myself in the tub.
There are times I feel good and can see a future without the despair haunting me, but they never last long. The darkness never fails to return, and I feel nothing again.
A warm fingertip raises my chin up, and I’m faced with Grandpa, wanting my attention.
“You’ve always been a little sensitive, but that doesn’t mean you’re not strong. After everything you’ve been through, it’s proof.” I read his lips and half watch his hands move and I nod, agreeing with him for the sake of not facing his wrath any longer.
“I won’t stand for you acting so stupid in the future. Myles’ old lady says you need help, do we have to hire you a therapist?”
One of the things I love most about my grandfather is how cut and dry he is. He doesn’t beat around the bush and leave you wondering what he really thinks.
Shaking my head, I sign, “I promise, it won’t happen again.”
“It better not, especially over a fucking guy. How many times do I have to tell you, your life isn’t defined by a man?”
His face softens. “But it wasn’t really over a date, was it?”
Again, I shake my head. My eyes fill with tears, but I quickly wipe them away.
“When I lost my hearing, it’s like a part of me died and I don’t know who I am anymore.”
He looks at me like I’m a fragile doll.
“It’d be easy for me to tell you who you are, but I understand this is your fight to bear. Know this, though. I’m here for you every second of every day, and if you’d been successful last night, your death would’ve left a huge absence in our lives. If one goes down, we all do.”
Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls me close, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
After a few moments, I sit straight and take a deep breath.
“I don’t say it often, but I love you very much. And if you aren’t in this ugly world, there’s no light for anyone. Fight, Victoria. Fight for yourself, because I’m telling you now, you’re worth every victory.”
Stepping through the front door, a sense of peace washes over me. Dropping my keys in the bowl on the side dresser lining the hall wall, I head upstairs. I need a shower. I need to wash off seeing Luca at the club, and the conversation with my grandpa.
The hot water does nothing to help me forget Luca Jackson, but I do feel a little better about everything else. I have good intentions to fight for myself, but the dread for the future is already settling in.
Slipping into my robe, I head downstairs and check my phone. I return my mom’s message, telling her I’m okay, and that I made it home from the club. I let Emma know I’m home, and that I’m feeling better. Once that’s finished, I head into the kitchen and get the fright of my life when I find Luca sitting at my table. Getting over the shock pretty quickly, I point to the half-open back door, his obvious point of entry.
He doesn’t move. For a brief period of time, there was a truce between us when we were led to believe my grandpa had been killed, but as soon as he walked through the bar, the truce was dead. I still don’t know how it ended up with him consoling me. One moment, he wasn’t there, and then he was.
I sign, “Get the fuck out of my house,” knowing full well he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. I smirk, only to have it wiped off away when his hands begin to move and he signs back, speaking as he does so.
“Not until we talk.”
I stumble back, frowning, latching onto the counter. He signs?
“That’s right. I paid Emma to teach me how to talk to you.”
I’m shocked. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. But regardless of beauty, I straighten and cross my arms over my chest.
“You have no excuse now not to let me explain.”
Explain what specifically? He’s hurt me in so many ways, and I’ve hurt him in return. I’ve come to the conclusion that Luca and I are a cloud of confusion. Nothing is ever straightforward between us.
“I’ve had a real fucked-up day, and all I need is for you to fucking talk to me.”
I’m half-reading his lips and watching his hands, not understanding why he thinks he has a right to be angry with me. He was the one who kept fucking up.
Shaking my head, my hands fly into action. “Leave, or I’ll call my brothers,” I threaten.
In true Luca self-righteous fashion, he grins. “You know they don’t scare me, Tor.”
He didn’t need to sign for me to read his lips clearly. I don’t think there’s a single person on the planet who scares him.
Kicking out the chair opposite of him from under the table, he tips his head, telling me to sit.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk, Tor. I need you.”
What a joke. He’s not once ever needed me. However, I sit down across from him and hold my head high.
“What do you want?” I sign.
“I want to know why you thought you could try to kill yourself?”
“What I do is none of your business. That’s what you told me.”
“You got rid of my baby behind my back!” he shouts. Not that I hear his anger, but it’s clear enough to see. “You don’t get to die. You’ll suffer for as long as I do.”
Oh, please. This boy is giving me a headache.
“Now that Sara’s back, I don’t imagine you’ll be suffering for long.”
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip. I wish he’d just tell me what’s on his mind. But as he always does, he keeps his shit bottled up and to himself. I wish I could say the words I’m about to sign.
“You should be happy. The girl you love is back in town. Chase her down, and you can finally have your happy ever after.”
He watches my hands carefully. It makes me sick telling him to chase her, but it makes me feel worse trying to get him to love me.
The gesture of him hanging his head sets me off. Standing, I lean over the table and lift his chin up so I can look him in the eye as I sign, “This, her, it’s what you’ve always wanted, what you’ve hoped for, so why are you here with me?”
His mouth opens and closes. His hands lay frozen on the tabletop. This is the Luca I’m used to, and the reason I haven’t let him speak to me in a long time. He can never answer a question. He expects everything and gives very little.
I sit back down in my chair. “The time we spent together, we were never a couple. You were right, you have no loyalties to me. I saw the way you looked at her when she left today, and I know for a fact you’ve never looked at me that way. It hurt when you hooked up with the girl in Mercy, like you intended it to, but it still doesn’t hurt as much as you loving someone else. Go after her, Luca. We both know I’m not the one you want.”
Getting up once more, I walk to the back door and open it wide, making it real clear it’s time for him to leave. Rising from his seat, he walks over and stands in my space, but I refuse to shy away from him, even though every fibre of my being is begging me to move away from him to keep hold of my sanity.
“We’re not done,” he mouths.
“I am. Now leave. You have to let this thing between us go and move on. You can’t punish me forever for doing the right thing for the both of us. I won’t let you.” It’s anger that makes it easier to lie about the miscarriage.
I breathe a sigh of relief when he heads toward to the door. Ten more seconds and he’ll be gone. Only he stops in front of me, gripping my chin between his thumb and finger, forcing me to look at him.
Satisfied he has my full attention, he drops his hand and signs, “If you try to kill yourself again, I’ll kill your brothers. You have my word on that.”
I shove him in the chest. How fucking dare he?
“Don’t you dare come around here making threats. You wouldn’t—”
He shoves my hands down and tells me, “I fucking would. Try me, Tor, and you’ll find out how serious I am when they join you in the afterlife.”
I want to scream, but I haven’t made a sound since Mercy. Instead, I sharpen my hand movements as I sign, “Why do you care? I’m not even yours. You hate me!”
My chest heaves as I fail to take in enough air to calm down. “I think you’re the one who needs to get checked out. You’re bipolar or something.”
“I hate you enough not to wish you dead, but to live this nightmare with me. You’ll always belong to me in some way, Tor. We’re nothing to each other, but I’ll never let you go.”
As soon as he steps outside, I slam the door shut. Slumping to the floor, I bring my knees up to my chest and cry. More darkness to fight. This is why I hate having contact with him. I’m always the one left hurting, and hating myself for loving a boy who will never love me back.