Page 1 of CurVy Forever

PROLOGUE

DONNIE

Eleven years old

“Fuck you, Tyler!” I tighten as Dexter screams from inside the house, his voice leaping across the yard to where I am in the shed. No one comes in ‘ere. It’s where the photos of mum and dad are. Hidden away.

Don’t have much time.

“It’s okay,” I say, pulling the rabbit from his hutch. “I won’t hurt ya.” Flat, strong feet kick at the air as I lift the feral animal from the enclosure and walk him to the forests edge.

It is like he’s on a little bicycle.

Kicking at nothing.

Kicking at nothing.

Not gettin’ anywhere…

Stepping just inside the forest break, I crouch and place the rabbit on the dirt just as the fly screen slams behind me. “Off ya go.” I tap its arse, spurring it forward.

“Donnie!” Tyler’s voice pierces the forest walls.

I straighten and walk from the shadows of the trees into view. The sun cuts a line across the lawn. The rest of its rays now dip behind the tall foliage. It’s almost dusk.

Tyler legs it across the grass to me, tears streaming down his face. “Donnie!” I catch him in my arms, feeling him vibrate like a motor within my embrace. “It was an accident,” he pants. “I swear it. I didn’t mean to talk.”

No, it wasn’t.

I don’t know what it is, but it wasn’t an accident. He’s not normal anymore. I don’t know what normal is, but I know it’s not my brother. We don’t know why he hurts himself or breaks things, but every time I ask him, he just starts talkin’ to Martha Argerich, the famous pianist.

He's still perfect to me.

Just how he is, but everyone else is worrying. I see it in their faces. Dexter thinks we’ll lose our parent’s company or something. That they’ll steal it out from under us. I don’t think they can do that, but what do I know?

“You can’t run from me, Tyler!” Dexter barks, storming after him, his arms thrusting forward with anger. “You’re such a little psycho. Come here!”

Dexter advances, and I push Tyler behind me, blocking him with my body. “Back off.”

I pump my arms out like I’ve seen Arnold Schwarzenegger do on television when he’s trying to look big and cut. Dexter is twice my height now, but I’m tough.

Just as tough as Dex.

“Step aside, Donnie. He needs a hiding.”

“What happened? Was it the meetin’?”

Dexter has been meeting with the arsehole Greg Durran for months now, trying to get his trust fund early, but he’s too young and dumb. I’m glad he can’t get it yet; he’ll just buy drugs or alcohol or porn.

We need that money.

“He started talking to that bitch pianist like a goddamn psychopath right in front of Durran. I told him! I told him to behave so I can get our money—”

“Your money,” Ty spits out from behind me. “So you can just leave us here!”

He’s not leavin’ us.

I keep my eyes on Dexter, fixed on his every move so he can weave past me and give Ty a punishment. He thinks it’s his job now. He doesn’t know how to control himself. He’s always running hot. Always impulsive.

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