Twisted Tides (Forged Hearts #2)

Chapter Eleven

EVIE

“Decode” by Paramore

I watch Jameson sleep, and I can’t help but stare at him. He looks so peaceful, and I bet he does it without a care in the world. He probably doesn’t even dream. I envy him for that. To be able to sleep without waking up from a nightmare that you relive whenever you begin to think you feel safe, but I haven’t felt safe in a very long time.

Retrieving my clothes, I quickly dress and stare at his sleeping form before leaving. I’m trying to take a mental picture of him this way. Instead, I take out my phone. Click.

Without looking back, because if I do I may do something crazy like crawling back into bed and staying. For once, I felt seen, and I don’t want to go back to being invisible.

No more masks.

Grabbing the mask, looking down at it one last time before letting it fall onto the table. I vow that the next time I see him, he will see all of me—no more hiding, at least not from him. Reality, on the other hand, has different plans for me. I have to put my happiness on the back burner if I want to help my family. The only family I have left are my siblings.

I take one more look around his apartment and walk out the door with a silent prayer falling from my lips that maybe one day I can have him. I can choose to be selfish and have my happy ending, too, but for now, I can’t let this continue. I have to keep Emma safe. This thing we are doing is a luxury that I can’t have. If I just keep repeating it over and over to myself, I just might start to believe it. Our need to get revenge is more important. I can’t have any more distractions, and Jameson is a huge distraction for me.

When I get back to my car, I slide into the driver seat and just sit there with the engine idling. I don’t want to leave, but I force myself to pull away and drive back to my place, leaving a piece of my tattered heart behind as I drive away.

As I pull into my parking spot just before dawn, I see someone jogging out of the complex, and another is leaving for work. I always feel like a loser when I arrive home in the early hours of the morning after a night out at the club. My sister calls it the 'walk of shame,’ and it's tough to head to bed while everyone else is just starting their day.

I drag myself up the stairs and open the door when a big yawn escapes me, scratch my head, and throw my bag on the kitchen island. I fill a glass of water, turning around to lean against the counter, when I come face to face with Mateo staring at me.

“Dear God!” I jump back, sloshing half of the water out of my glass. “Bro, what is wrong with you? You almost gave me a heart attack. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I flick the water off my tank top, now sporting a huge wet spot in the center. I frown looking down at it, then grab a towel to pat myself dry. I chug the remaining water and place the glass in the sink. Mateo is still staring at me. “What?” I look at him, trying to decipher what his deal is.

“Oh, looks like someone had a rendezvous. Did you see that guy again?”

I look quizzically at him. “Who?”

He snorts. “Don’t play dumb, sister. It doesn’t suit you.”

I smile, displaying my straight, white teeth. “You’ll have to be more specific, Mattie. I’m not twelve.” We laugh and then realize the implications of that comment as our laughter dies out.

We didn’t get that chance to have that relationship because he was sent away. I didn’t even know I had a brother until recently. Now, he and my sister have become the most important people in my life. Another part of me thinks that maybe Jameson can be my person, too.

A hand lands on my shoulder. I jump at the unexpected touch.

“Relax. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He brings me into him and kisses the top of my head.

I force myself to relax into his embrace.

As if hearing my thoughts, Mateo speaks. “I love you, Evie.”

I raise my hand to my heart and rub the ache that threatens to take up residence there. The physical aching from someone telling me I am loved is a welcome feeling.

“I love you too, Mateo.”

He takes a sniff. “Now, who smells like a brothel? You smell like sex.” He pushes me away.

“Yeah, alright. I am going to shower. Great moment.” I walk away, and he calls me back.

“Oh, Uncle Andrés called right before you got here. I guess Eduardo called him up asking for Emma’s hand in marriage.”

“No shit. Um, wow. She’s getting married?” I don’t know how to feel about that.

“He told Tió that he would keep her safe.”

I think about how much time has passed since they were younger. I guess when you know, you know. “Maybe I’ll get to go to the wedding,” I reply snarkily.

Mateo nods. “Yeah, and maybe I’ll finally meet my sister,” he speaks hesitantly.

God, I am such a bitch. When I think about all I’ve lost, I realize that Mateo has had it so much harder than I have.

“One could only hope, Mattie.” I smile sadly at him as I walk off toward my bedroom and close the door behind me.

Flopping on my comfy but empty bed, I slip on my favorite sleep shorts and tank before throwing my outfit from last night in the hamper, mimicking a two-point shot. Swish. Snuggling down under the covers, I wrap myself in my blankets, refusing to shower so Jameson’s scent can envelop me in a feeling of peace where my mind can finally be at rest.

I wake up to the bright sun shining through the blinds. I lazily walk to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it heat up so I can shower quickly and get some things done. Walking out of my room and into the living room, I see Mateo sitting on the couch watching television. He stands quickly, turning the TV off.

“Come on. Let’s get some tacos. I’m starving.”

I walk over to grab my bag. “You don’t have to tell me twice, bro. I love tacos.”

When we get to our fave Mexican spot, we ask to sit outside on the covered patio. The ceiling fans are going, giving us a nice breeze. When our waitress comes over, we order a plate of tacos. Mateo gets a beer, and I get an iced tea.

“No beer?” Mateo questions.

“Nah, I am thirsty, and nothing quenches my thirst like an iced tea.”

He tries to hide his laughter but just shakes his head at me. As the waitress returns with our drinks shortly after taking our order, I eagerly grab my iced tea and take a big sip, feeling the coolness of the drink refresh me. However, as I put the glass back down, I notice some moisture pooling on the surface, making me shudder a bit. I quickly reach for a tuxedo wrap and wipe off the excess moisture. Mateo shifts in his chair.

“You really hate condensation, don’t you?” He takes another drink, shaking his head at me in jest.

“Ha, you have no idea. Emma and I both do.” A smile plays on my lips, thinking of my sister with good memories instead of the bad ones.

I gaze at my brother's profile, searching for any resemblance between us. Despite looking light-skinned while he is an olive tone, and having green eyes while his are as dark as night, I can't help but wonder where his features come from. As he catches my stare, his expression softens, and he smiles, revealing Emma's smile. This gentle reminder tugs at my heart, reminding me that everything could change at any moment. However, I hold onto the belief that we will be reunited soon.

“So, tell me about Jameson?”

My eyes shoot up to his as I ponder his question. What do I tell him about Jameson? Hell, I don’t even know much about him, or how I feel about him, except that I found a deep connection to him that I just can’t explain. I was able to let some of the control go as he held me. He actually fucking held me. It was almost sweet, as if he understood that I had some issues, yet he still wanted to consume me. It didn’t feel like just a fuck. It felt like something more.

“I pick at the napkin around my glass, avoiding his gaze. “I like him.” I stop and meet his eyes. They soften.

“I can tell, and I’m happy for you, Evie. You deserve to be happy.”

I frown. “I just need this to be over so that I can tell him everything, but when will that be, Mateo? You know, I saw him that night at the beach when Brodie had that accident. I liked him from that moment without even knowing him, but he was interested in my sister then.” I look over at Mateo, and his head tilts to the side.

“What do you want to ask me, Evie?” He stares at me instead. I push through and ask my question, verbalizing my biggest fear.

“What if he likes me because somehow I remind him of Emma? I mean, she is my twin.” I bite my lip. I hate the vulnerability in my voice. I look across the street at people walking by, taking in the ease with which they walk without a care in the world. I see a woman walking up to a man. He wraps her in a hug, kissing her, and grabs her hand possessively as they walk off. God, what I wouldn’t give to have that—to be the center of someone’s whole world.

“Evie, do you really believe that?” he asks with concern etched on his features.

“I don’t know, Mateo. I mean, no, not really, but he did have a thing for Emma, but she is with Eduardo now. What if I am just second best?” I immediately hate the words when they escape my mouth, but now that they are out there, my worst fears are voiced.

“No, Evie. You are nothing like Emma. You may share looks, but other than that, you are so very different from her. I see a strong woman in front of me. One that loves fiercely and protects what she loves at all costs.”

I smile. “Thanks, Mattie. That means a lot to me. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

He shifts awkwardly in his chair but smiles at the compliment.

“Enough about me. Tell me about you. Any special lady in your life?”

He shakes his head. “Now? Nope, no one special.”

I shrug, deciding to pry further and invade his privacy. “So what do you do when you leave the house and come out here?”

He chuckles. “You promise not to laugh?” He shakes his head.

“Oh, boy. Now, I have to know. What do you do?” I repeat, almost bouncing in my seat with excitement, and I know that I am so going to enjoy this.

He begins but then stops mid-sentence, pondering his following words. “Fuck it.” He rubs his hand over his face. “I went for a walk to think, and I found this cafe by the water. I started having my coffee there and watching the ocean waves. It brings me a bit of peace, you know?”

I nod my head in acknowledgment because I totally understand how peaceful the waves can make you feel.

“I met this older man, he was playing chess alone. I would just sit and watch him play, then one day, he asked me if I wanted to join him.”

Wow, that wasn’t what I thought he would say at all. I look at my brother, shocked. “You’ve been playing chess with an old man in your spare time?”

He rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “I mean, I guess, yeah.” He snorts, almost embarrassed. “We talk about nothing and everything. His wife died, and he doesn’t talk to his son. I think he is just lonely.”

I nod in understanding.

“I mean, he is nice, and it quiets my mind.”

Silence falls between us. Looking over at my brother, my heart aches as I realize the depth of his loneliness. It's heart-wrenching to imagine how he must be feeling, especially after being abandoned by those who were supposed to be there for him. He didn’t have a real family, despite my uncle and aunt raising him as best they could. I can't imagine how tough it must have been for him not to have parents wishing him a happy birthday. Looking back, I now realize how fortunate Emma and I were. I also know how he feels when he says that it quiets his mind. Isn’t that what I seek out, too?

“Is it fun?” I ask, wanting to know.

He laughs. “I mean, yeah. I enjoy it. I actually look forward to our time together. Is it weird to have a friend who could be your grandfather?”

I finish my drink. “Nope. Not at all. Hey, do you think maybe I could join you sometime?”

Surprise registers on his face. “Um. Yeah, sure. If you’d like to hang out with us, we meet once a week,” he responds shyly. He smiles and shifts his attention to the waitress coming over with a tray of tacos.

The smell hits me, and my mouth begins to water. I swear I can taste the crispy mahi-mahi from here. The conversation halts as the waitress lays out our food in front of us, and I moan at the first bite of my crispy meal. Mateo and I sit there in silence, devouring our weight in tacos.