His Twisted Heart by Ellie R Hunter
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Victoria
Isuck in a sharp breath and put my finger to my mouth, sucking on the blood as I curse the thorn that pricked me. You’d think I’d be better at steering clear of them by now, but they get me every time. My phone buzzes against my thigh. Pulling it out of the pocket of my skirt, I open the text from Alannah.
I tried getting away with not answering people’s texts by saying I couldn’t hear the phone, but it was quickly pointed out they have a vibrate setting, and received numerous lectures about keeping it on me at all times.
I’ve been invited to the Jackson place for a cookout this afternoon, and apparently, she won’t take no for an answer.
The Jackson house is the last place I want to be.
Powering down my phone, I toss it on the potting table. There’s no chance I’m setting foot anywhere Luca will be. It’s not like my grandfather will be there for me to sit with and keep Luca away. He can’t leave the clubhouse, as he’s supposedly dead.
Spraying my roses, I head back to the house. The usual peace that washes over me while in my greenhouse slips the farther away I get from it. Rubbing my growling stomach, I sigh happily, knowing there’s leftover lasagne for a late lunch.
It’s not like I’ll be going to the Jacksons, which used to be a place I loved going to. Everyone would be happy, and you’d spend most of the time laughing at someone or other, especially when they’d been drinking for hours, as they tend to make fools of themselves.
Opening the back door, I inhale the smell of mint growing on the window ledge, and smile when I see my dad sitting at the table. It disappears just as quickly when I see the pain written all over his face.
Waving, I cross the kitchen to sit next to him. My father is one of the best men I know. My mom says I take after him the most. The twins are all Grandpa. I agree, I’m most like my father. We like to take it easy and enjoy life, only turning if we’re crossed. A few people over the years have mistaken my lighthearted nature for weakness, and they’ve all been schooled on how not judge people incorrectly.
He pulls the notepad and pencil from the middle of the table and scribbles down, “How are you doing?”
He’s struggled the most with learning sign language, and prefers to swap notes.
Turning the notepad, I take the pencil from him and write, “I’m good. You?”
He doesn’t take the pencil back. Instead, he looks at me, his frown setting me on edge.
I write, “What is it? Has someone been hurt?”
He takes the pencil and I read as he writes, “I want you to come home. I can’t look after you when you’re out here, getting up to stupid shit all alone. I’m letting you down.”
Shaking my head, my eyes fill with tears and I throw my arms around him. He trembles slightly in my arms, and I let the first tear fall, knowing I’m causing him this regret and fear.
Pulling away, I grab the pencil, and in block letters—my version of a strict Hear me! tone—I write fast. “You’re the best dad in the world. I’m so sorry. I’m never ever going to try it again, I swear to you.”
Swiping at his eyes, he can’t bring himself to look at me when he takes the pencil.
“I love you too much. I can’t sleep at night, knowing you’re out here and worrying about what you’re up to. I’m scared to wake up in the morning to find you not here anymore.”
His reply takes my breath away and I struggle to swallow the guilt rising in my throat.
“I promise you, I’ll never do it again. Please believe me.”
“Tell me why? I need to understand,” he pleads.
“Sometimes I sink into these dark places, and the other night, I couldn’t find the light. Everything’s different for me now, and sometimes I can deal, while other times… I can’t. But I’m going to work on it and get better, I promise.”
He finally looks at me and slowly nods. I release the breath I was holding in relief.
His phone must go off because he pulls it out of his pocket, reads what’s on the screen, and stands.
He leans over the table and jots down, “Lana’s having a cookout, and you’re coming. No arguments.”
I want to argue. I really don’t want to go, but if it makes my dad happy, I’ll do it. I don’t want him worrying about me anymore, and if he needs to see me smiling and interacting with others, then I can survive a couple hours putting on a happy face.
He waits outside as I clean up and grab my phone from the greenhouse. When I lock up, Dad’s already on his bike.
I was amazed to learn I could still drive after losing my hearing. It was scary the first few times, but I grew used to it, and driving on quiet roads helps. Between here and the Jacksons’ place, I’ll be lucky if I see another motorist.
Even going into town, it’s pretty quiet around here.
Memories of sneaking into the Jackson house to be with Luca when Cas and Lana were at the club flood through my mind. When I pull in, I look away from the white two-story house and park next to Dad’s bike.
Slamming my door, I leave my phone in the car and loop my arm through Dad’s as we walk around to the side gate. The yard is full of brothers and old ladies, and I smile when I see Emma sitting with a sleeping Penelope on her lap. She’s getting big now, and she’s the most beautiful little thing I’ve ever seen. I’m glad my brother pulled his head out of his ass, because he’s a great father, and there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. And Emma is a great person and wonderful mom to my niece.
Dad pulls a garden chair from the stack and drags it over to the table where Cas, Sparky, Slade, and Dex are sitting. I wonder if Libby’s here? I don’t see her around often, but she’s always nice to me.
They all wave and smile, but I can’t hear any of their greetings. Waving back, I offer them smiles in return. My dad’s earlier confession is still hanging over me, making me feel like shit. I’ll prove to him I’ll be okay, even if I don’t feel it.
They return to their conversations, and I close my eyes. If I concentrate, I can hear them all. I hear the babies laughing, the old ladies chatting and calling for the guys to help with the food, and the brothers with their deep voices making jokes. Of course I hear none of this today, but I still feel a part of their world.
Sometimes I worry I’ll forget what they all sound like, that time will muffle my memories, and it hurts more than anything else. The one that hurts the most, though, is little Penelope. I’ll never know what she sounds like when she learns to speak or hear her laughs.
Opening my eyes, I start to relax before a hand lands on my shoulder, making me jump. Craning my neck to look up, I see Alannah standing beside me, but talking with the guys at the table. I hate when people do that now. Most of the time, people will tap me on the shoulder or nudge my arm to get my attention, and I get used to it. Occasionally, though, like just now, I’m so focused in my own little world, it gives me a fright.
She squeezes my shoulder before moving on to talk briefly with everyone as she makes her way to the house. She eventually pulls open the back door as it’s pushed open from the inside, and Luca steps out. Before I can look away, I see Sara stepping out behind him. He brought her here? She still looks the same, timidly beautiful, but she walks with confidence now, no longer clinging to Luca like a shield.
They cross the yard, with Alannah watching them closely, and they sit at an empty picnic bench. Her gaze flicks to mine and I smile, showing her I feel nothing, and look away. So much for Sara leaving town. I knew better, and I fucking knew she wasn’t just going to disappear as fast as she appeared. I wouldn’t be shocked if I heard he’d chased her down and begged her to stay.
I look over to their table and see his lips moving. I can’t see her, as she has her back to me, but it’s him I want to watch. I’m glad I can’t hear him. I couldn’t bear to hear him telling her the things I wanted him to say to me.
Emma steps in front of me, blocking my view from heartbreak. She passes me a sleeping Penelope, and once she’s safe in my arms, she sits on the grass and signs, “Who’s the girl?”
I pointedly stare at her until she becomes uncomfortable. “What?” she mouths.
Arranging Penelope on my lap so my hands are free, I ask her, “Why did you teach Luca how to sign?”
She has the grace to look guilty, knowing she’s been caught.
“He begged me for months and offered to pay triple for my services.”
So her price to betray me was triple her pay? I shut down the conversation and look over her head to Luca.
He doesn’t look happy. Most people would say he never does, but I know him better than most. He’s fighting something, and a part of me is glad I don’t have to sit here and watch them be all lovey-dovey with each other.
Three brothers I don’t recognise join the party. Everyone seems happy to see them, offering smiles and greetings.
The guy on the end, I assume, in his mid-twenties, is smiling at me, and I can’t help but look back over my shoulder to make sure no one’s standing behind me.
He starts to laugh at me, and then his lips are moving. He’s introducing himself as Angel, a brother from the Mercy chapter.
My lips part to reply, but I come up short. How can I fucking reply in a way he’ll understand? I haven’t used my voice since the shooting, as I’ve seen no point in it. It’s not like I can hear myself, and I’d probably sound all kinds of weird if I tried. I’d rather not embarrass myself, especially in front of a stranger.
I pass Penelope back to Emma, needing to get out of here before a bout of anxiety hits me. I don’t want my dad to witness it. I don’t want him worrying about me any longer, and he will if I don’t get out of here quick.
Moving my hands, I sign out a goodbye to Emma, and before I can move away, the new guy’s signing, to me, and I understand every word.
A smile breaks out across my lips. Turning to my dad, I find him staring at me, giving me the thumb up. Emma once promised me my world wouldn’t be so small, and I didn’t believe her, until now. This stranger has just blown my world wide open again, and my heart races with excitement.
“I’m Angel, it’s nice to meet you.”
For once, I’m speechless.
Emma gets to her feet and makes a quick exit. A chair suddenly appears at my side, curtesy of Alannah, and I can feel the heat of embarrassment rising in my cheeks.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asks.
In my peripheral, my dad’s nodding encouragingly. Smiling, I sit down next to him.
“I’m Victoria.”
“I remember who you are. I’m sorry about what happened up in Mercy.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“If it’s any consolation, they haven’t shown their faces in town since that night.”
Smiling tightly, I sign, “Let’s not talk about that. It’s so good to meet someone outside of my family who signs.”
It’s hard to watch him speak when I’m unashamedly checking him out. His hair is as black as coal, shaved short around the sides, his stubble just long enough to know it’ll tickle in certain areas, and his eyes are dark. Not like the bright green ones I came to love.
He’s definitely older than Luca, and taller. He’s got my attention so far, and for the rest of the afternoon, life isn’t dark at all. The sun’s shining, and there are possibilities. For the first time in a long time, I find myself wishing time wouldn’t pass by so quickly.
I take a peek over at Luca to find him glaring, his attitude weighing me down, but fuck him. He’s got his precious Sara back, and the last thing I’m going to do is sit around, letting him think I care.