Thorns and Forgiveness : Twisted Legacy Duet

  Thorns and Forgiveness

  Twisted Legacy Duet

  CoraLee June

  Copyright © 2021 by June Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by: HarleyQuinn Zaler

  Editor: Helayna Trask with Polished Perfection

  Created with Vellum

  For that asshole professor at Texas State University that told me I’d never have a career in writing. I forgot your name, but one day the world will know mine.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Vera

  Ten years ago

  I loved watching Mom apply her makeup in our tiny apartment bathroom. It was like watching someone spray paint the side of a brick building. She had all these fancy brushes and covered every inch of her face. I sat on the toilet, my legs swinging back and forth as I told her about Ronnie McIntyre pushing me on the playground. She smacked her ruby lips lined thickly, and stared at her reflection.

  The way Mom celebrated her face felt revolutionary to me. She was always fussing about the advantages of pretty people.

  “You tell Ronnie to eat shit the next time he pushes you, Vera,” she said while rolling another layer of mascara onto her clumpy eyelashes. “We don’t let boys push us around or hurt us. Garner women are strong, baby.” She finished putting on her mask and then frowned at her reflection for a moment too long. “We are fucking strong,” she whispered.

  “Okay, Mom,” I promised, because that was the sensible thing for an eight-year-old to say. She continued applying her dollar store war paint.

  “So strong…” she repeated, this time her voice bouncing off the linoleum floor with a vengeance.

  1

  Hamilton

  My sluggish brain felt swollen and heavy. Every fucking pore in my throbbing body reeked of alcohol and regret. The pounding at the base of my skull assured me that I still had a pulse, despite trying to drown my pathetic heart with whiskey last night.

  I wanted to cut off my circulation and numb my body from the ground up to escape the burning, throbbing, aching pain.

  The older I got, the more getting blackout drunk lost its appeal. It was one thing to use alcohol like a weapon to get back at my father. I loved to indulge in destruction, then fuck some random girl on the living room floor. But this time, the only person getting stabbed with a broken whiskey glass was me. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Fuck. It felt like I had glass splinters in my brain.

  My mouth was dry, as if I’d spent the last twelve hours chewing on cotton balls. My stomach churned. Shame like razor blades cut through me the moment I opened my eyes and saw my best friend’s face.

  “Rise and shine, asshole.” Jess thrusted a platter of greasy bacon in my face, and I slowly sat up. The smell was too much. I was on my couch, buck ass naked and covered in a sheen of sweat. I needed to puke, shower, then eat.

  “Good morning,” I replied, my deep voice like sandpaper on my vocal cords. “Has Vera called?”

  Even though I felt half dead, she was the first thing on my mind. She was the only thing consuming my thoughts these days. I wasn’t used to thinking of anything but ruining my brother. The obsessive estrangement took a back seat the moment I met Vera Garner. But like a disease, my hate for Joseph bled through the one good thing in my life and ate at it, the cancerous loathing too powerful and potent to ignore.

  And yeah, maybe I was being melodramatic. There was plenty of pussy out there. But Vera was different. This was different. Our whole goddamn story was more haunting than my nightmares, than finding my mother’s dying body in the upstairs bathroom, or having my arm snapped by my deranged brother. It was the kind of heartbreak that stuck with you.

  When Jess didn’t answer me, I asked again. “Well? Did she call?” I wasn’t sure what answer I wanted to spill from my best friend’s lips.

  Jess rolled her eyes and shook her head in annoyance. “Oh! You mean the girl I told you to be honest with when shit started to get serious between the two of you?” I wasn’t in the mood for my best friend’s I told you so lecture, but my head hurt too damn much to argue with her. Jess continued. “I thought you forgot about her. You know, since you were trying to bring home a blond divorcée with a hard-on for your last name at the bar yesterday.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and winced. Shit. “I didn’t…did I?” It was fucking trash that I couldn’t even remember.

  “No. She leaned in for a kiss, and you started crying like a little bitch about Vera. Her metaphorical dick went soft after that.” Jess let out a huff before setting the platter piled with bacon on the coffee table. “You know I don’t judge. If you want to fuck your way through town and drink yourself to death, go for it. I love you unconditionally, bro, but even I think it’s shitty. I thought we were going out for a couple drinks so you could get your head on straight and figure out how to get Vera back. I didn’t realize you’d go on a full fucking bender. And put some clothes on, I’m tired of your elephant dick staring at me.”

  My elephant dick was missing Vera something fierce. Despite being hung over as hell, my traitorous hard-on was ready to track my girl down and remind her how fucking good our bodies fit together. I was addicted to her. The feel of her soft skin. Her little moans. When she came, it was one of the few times she finally let go. She squeezed my cock like…fuck. I can’t even explain it. Spectacular. It was fucking spectacular. There wasn’t a good enough metaphor to describe the feeling. If I were a boring, basic-ass man, I’d say it felt like heaven. But even feeling like shit, I was neither boring nor basic. I sure as hell wasn’t going to compare perfection to some mythical place I’d never been to before. It should be sinful. Devilish. Dangerous. If I had one last breath in the world, I’d inhale deeply and use the remaining oxygen in my lungs to scream that Vera was mine and mine alone—choke—she was mine, mine, mine, mine, mine—exhale—and that word would play on repeat until my eyes rolled back and my lips turned blue. One long, run-on declaration of suffocation.

  Crazy. I was going fucking crazy. Did I do drugs last night? It was like I popped a little white pill called melancholy.

  “Whatever,” I answered before standing up. The fucking room tilted to the side. More bile traveled up my throat, and the throbbing slammed hard between my eyes. I nearly toppled over. Waves of vertigo hit me like a punch to the balls. After a few minutes of overwhelming nausea and dizziness, Jess sent a pair of underwear flying through the air, hitting me in the face. “Thanks,” I croaked before slowly putting it on, somehow managing not to fall on my face.

  “Go take a shower so you don’t smell like the men’s bathroom at a bar. I’ve got an emergency stash of chocolate, and I
don’t have to work today. We can stop by the flower shop and get Vera some roses. Bitches love roses. You’ll apologize and give her a smolder so we can all go back to normal.” Jess was pacing the floors in front of me, a determined scowl on her pretty face.

  I ran a hand through my greasy hair. I thought about my perfect Petal and what roses represented in her life. Maybe her mom was right. I ruined her. “I’m not getting her roses,” I replied softly before stomping toward my bathroom. “And I’m not going to apologize.”

  I wanted Vera Garner more than anything in the world. I didn’t just want her body, I craved every inch of her soul. Being away from her was already making me a miserable fucker. But I wasn’t going to be selfish about this.

  Jess cursed and followed after me. “And why the fuck not?”

  I grabbed my toothbrush and stared at my reflection. The dark circles under my eyes made it look like I got punched in the face. My lips were cracked. My skin pale. Jess leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for my answer. “I’m not going to be another person in Vera’s life that demands her forgiveness.”

  I turned on the faucet and started brushing my teeth. Jess gave me an incredulous look, her brown eyes wide as she gaped at me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Vera’s mother hurt her over and over and over again. And every single time, Vera forgave her. It was a toxic, never-ending cycle that I wanted nothing to do with. Even if we somehow moved past this, I knew I would just hurt her again. I was too fucked up to make this work. Eventually, I’d become just like Lilah, abusing the privilege of Vera’s gentle, unconditional love for the sake of my own ego and selfish needs.

  I spit my toothpaste out and wiped my mouth. “Just drop it, okay?”

  Jess shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t. If you won’t go to her, then I’ll just bring her here.”

  “I wouldn’t bother. I’ll just send her away. And I won’t be nice about it either.”

  Jess was always picking at my scabs, refusing to let me just sit with a decision. Most of the time, I appreciated her tenacity. Jess was brave, hard-hitting, and determined. She didn’t let me wallow in self-pity, and she sure as hell didn’t let me go on nuclear self-destructive benders. But right now, I didn’t want her invasive opinions. I’d made up my mind, and I was going to stick to it—for Vera’s sake.

  She pressed on, blocking the bathroom exit with her body when I moved to leave. “Martyr shit. This is some fucked up martyr shit, Hamilton. You like Vera. So what if you lied? Apologize, do better, and move on with your motherfucking life. She’s Sycamore Tree, Hamilton. Not to mention, Vera might be the only girl I’ve ever liked for you. Win her back. Easy.”

  I let out a huff. Jess made it seem so simple. Sure, I could probably win Vera back. My girl was sympathetic, empathetic, compassionate, and loving. Her heart was an endless well the rest of the world liked to drink from. If I wanted her back in my bed by tonight, I probably could have her. I didn’t mean that to sound cocky or assuming. She was a forgiving soul, and it was one of the things that immediately drew me in about her. But it was the moving on with my life part that made me stop dead in my tracks. How long until I was fucking up again? How long until I ruined shit and had to ask for her forgiveness?

  Being arrogant was a lonely battle.

  “I didn’t like her that much,” I lied with bitter, false acceptance, the taste of it like gunpowder on my tongue. The truth was, I liked her too much. Hell, I loved Vera Garner and wanted to spend all day wrapped up in her mind. She was too good for me—and too damn good for this fucked up family. I used her as a pawn, and there was no coming back from that. Even if Vera was willing to forgive me, I struggled with forgiving myself.

  Jess was pissed, her words booming at me. “That’s some bullshit. I’ve never seen you like this. I know you care about Vera. Pull your head out of your ass and go get your girl, Hamilton!” Jess stomped her combat boots on the linoleum floor. Her tantrum made me want to smile. My best friend was loyal to a fault, and if she had to choose, she would always choose me. But Jess liked Vera. She didn’t just want things to work out for my sake.

  “So I can just hurt her again? You didn’t see her fucking face, Jess. She risked it all for me, and I took advantage of that. Vera was devastated. She got this defeated look in her eyes. Like, the flickering light went completely out. A struck match in a motherfucking hurricane. It stuck with me. I’ve only seen her like that one other time: when her mother showed up, bloodied and blue on my doorstep. I’m not going to be another person in her life that makes her feel like shit. I’m not going to ruin the girl I love.”

  Jess’s expression softened. She reached out and awkwardly wrapped me in a hug. I let her, mostly because I needed it. “Hamilton. You aren’t going to ruin her.” Jess squeezed me one more time before pulling away and looking up at me. “You made a mistake. The difference between you and her monster of a mother is that you feel remorse. I mean, fuck, bro, you look like shit. And you’re torn up about this. I know you. I know you better than anyone in this fucking world.” She chewed on her lip ring for a moment, then shrugged. “I think Vera needs you. I think you challenge her. I don’t trust Joseph. And if I were you, I’d put aside the martyr bullshit to protect your girl. If you accept defeat, you’re just delivering her and Lilah to Joseph with a bow.”

  I clenched my jaw and looked at the ground. Jess was right. I couldn’t just walk away. I had to figure out a way to protect Vera from the disaster that was my family while keeping my distance. “Are you going to keep blocking me in?” I asked. Jess was a pain in the ass when she wanted to be. It was one of the many reasons why I loved her so goddamn much.

  “Are you going to keep pretending like you don’t love that girl?” Jess asked before crossing her arms over her chest. I frowned at her.

  “Fuck you, Jess,” I said before dropping my boxers and spinning around to get in the shower.

  “You can’t run from this!” my best friend sang on an exhale as I turned on the shower and got inside. Hot water poured over my skin, warming me from the inside out. Though the water felt good, my pulsing veins still ached. I needed coffee. And pain killers. “Stop ignoring me, Hamilton.”

  After quickly washing my hair, I grabbed my shower gel and ran it over my abs just as Jess yanked open the shower curtain and glared at me. “If you wanted a show, you just had to ask,” I replied in such a sleazy way that I internally cringed at my words.

  “Shut the fuck up and call me after you’ve shaved your asscrack, motherfucker,” Jess answered before pressing her lips into a fine line and staring at me. I waited. And waited. We had a silent, naked standoff.

  It was me who eventually caved.

  “What? Can we please just move on? I’m done having this conversation,” I growled before rinsing off.

  “I just think you’re making a huge mistake—an even bigger mistake than using her to get back at your brother. Hell, I thought this whole Saint thing was fucked up from the beginning.” That pissed me off. I shut off the water and grabbed a nearby towel. “You weren’t saying that when you suggested we stage everything at Infinity’s show so her band could get some free PR,” I snapped back before drying off.

  “Yeah, well, that was before I got to know Vera. I thought we were screwing over the Beauregards, not ruining some innocent chick’s life. You should have been honest with her before it snowballed this far.”

  I slammed my palm on the wall and yelled. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that I used her in the worst possible way and that I didn’t just lie once, but I lied every fucking time we were together—every time we fucked—every time I got closer and closer? Figure out what you want, Jess, because one second, you’re telling me to show up at her doorstep with some flowers and a goddamn smolder so I can collect her forgiveness like it’s Halloween candy, and then the next minute you’re telling me that I’m complete shit for lying to her. You’re proving my point.”

  “And what is your point ex
actly?” Jess asked.

  “I don’t want Vera’s forgiveness. I hurt her, Jess. I fucking hurt her. I don’t deserve Vera,” I said, my tone defeated.

  Jess finally let me pass, and I marched over to my bedroom, where my sheets were still messed up from the last time Vera spent the night. Where the smell of her clung to every inch of the space. Where her clothes lay crumbled in a pile on the floor. Where her handwritten notes for class sat on my dresser.

  We’d only known each other for a little while, but she’d already taken over my life. I was always so guarded, never letting people come to my house, pushing them away before I could even slide off my condom. I usually fled and forgot people.

  But not Vera. I wanted her under my skin. I needed her in my life completely, staining my existence. I grabbed a pair of black sweats and put them on before finding a shirt. “I just want you to be happy, Hamilton.” Jess sniffled. Yeah, I wanted that too. “You know what Joseph is capable of. I really want you to consider that maybe you could protect Vera. Maybe you’d be really, really good for her.”

  Fuck yeah, I knew what Joseph was capable of. Jess knew about my broken arm.

  And the broken nose.

  The chipped tooth.

  The kick to the balls.

  The pillow over my face.

  The bleach on my skin.

  The burn marks on my thigh.

  Joseph needed an outlet for his insanity, and I was his own personal punching bag. My mother couldn’t protect me, and my father didn’t care.