Page 29 of Twisted Truths
“What?” I ask, when he continues to stare at me.
“You apologised.”
I laugh as I jog over to collect the ball where it rolled onto the grass. “I apologised back then.”
He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t.”
“Come on,” I say, spinning the ball around on my finger. “I would have apologised. I’m not that much of an arsehole.” His silence speaks volumes, and guilt bubbles in my stomach as I realise he’s serious. “Fuck, Lev. I really never said sorry?”
“Forget it,” he murmurs, snatching the ball and running a layup.
“I was such a punk back in high school.”
“No arguments here,” he grunts out, taking another shotwithout looking at me. “But honestly, forget about it. We can’t change the past.”
Fuck.
“Hey,” I jog over, gripping him by the arm so he has to look at me. “I know things turned to shit when Dalton moved us back here, and I know I’m to blame for that, but I really am sorry. He rode my arse hard, and while it might’ve made me a better player, I envied how you had Uncle Kaleb at every game cheering you on. All I got was the old man tearing apart every move I made on the court. It was exhausting, and I took it out on you. Like I said, I was an arsehole, and I’m sorry I never apologised back then. You stepped up to help get Ziggy out of that cult, and I owe you one. We may have been thrust into each other’s lives because of our waste of space of a father, but you came through, and I’m grateful to still have someone who has my back. Thanks, brother.”
Levi stiffens as I pull him in for a hug, and I step back quickly. He clears his throat, looking awkwardly at the ground. “We’re good. Let’s just play ball.”
The shrill soundof my phone ringing shocks me from sleep early Friday morning. I blink bleary-eyed at the brightness, but when I see Shane’s name on the screen, all vestiges of sleep disappear.
“What is it?” I ask, foregoing any formalities. “Did you catch a break in the case?”
His weighted sigh is heavy down the line. “Morning, mate. I thought you’d want to know the coroner is releasing the bodies today.”
“Oh.” The words sink to the bottom of my stomach.
“Do you want me to contact George for you and organise transport to the funeral home?”
I swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “No, that’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?”
No.“Yeah, no worries. I’ve got it.”
There’s a long pause, followed by another sigh. “Alright. Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You said you were working on something yesterday,” I rush out before Shane can hang up. “Did it have something to do with the partial print found on the murder weapon?”
“Where’d you hear that?” Shane’s voice is sharp as a whip. He groans, muttering something about working in small towns. “You know what? I don’t want to know. It was a dead end. I’m sorry, Nash. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Anger bubbles up inside me, and I fight the urge to snap at him. “Surely the fact there was a partial tells you Zara didn’t fucking do it? It’s got to be enough to reopen the investigation. Come on, man, give me something.”
“Our hands are tied, mate. I wish I had more for you, but I don’t. Look, burying your family won’t be easy, but try to focus on the good memories. It’s what they would want.”
He hangs up before I can say anything else.
I toss the phone aside and run a hand over my tired face. I feel like I’ve let Ziggy down by burying her before we find the truth, but I won’t give up. She didn’t do this, and I’m going to prove it.
Putting off calling George at the funeral home, I get up and have a long shower, leaning my head against the wet tiles as water pours over me. I’ve been so focused on justice for my sister, I never stopped to think about planning their funerals.
While I knew I would one day have to bury my mother, Ithought I still had years to worry about that. I mean, fuck, she was only forty-three. She still had years ahead of her. And Paul was a good man. He treated Mum, Ziggy, and me well. He doted on Rylan.
Rylan.
Fuck.
