A Twisted Desire (A Sawyer Brothers Story #2)

PROLOGUE

The Past

“What are you doing alone out here?”

Relief bloomed in my chest at the sound of Nix’s voice. I almost blurted, feeling sorry for myself, but the words got trapped in my throat. I usually told him everything, but it wasn’t the right time. I also kept my bruised wrist hidden, as if he saw it, there would be more trouble.

I shuffled to the side to allow my only friend to sit beside me. He was also a brother of sorts, considering we had both been fostered by the same family. Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones.

Cutting him a look, I noticed he was still wearing the jeans and the Nine Inch Nails hoodie he’d worn that day.

My body always relaxed the second I heard the calming sound of Nix’s voice.

It was the only one I liked in the house we were forced to live in.

The other two foster kids, Dalton and Daisy, just got on my nerves, period.

They were creepy twins and mean to the bone, but never in front of our foster parents.

As far as Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were concerned, the nasty brats could do no wrong.

Nix was short for Phoenix.

I loved the meaning behind his name. Nix told me that the phoenix was a powerful bird and a symbol of overcoming adversity. I was almost eleven, but had to look up the word ‘adversity’ on Google. It meant: a difficult or unpleasant situation. That summed up our living situation perfectly.

I’d also researched the phoenix on my tablet.

The pictures were of a stunning eagle-like creature with its feathered wings on fire.

The caption beneath said that once it had lived its life, the phoenix would allow the fire to consume it, before being born into a fresh, new existence.

And considering my past and present, I liked the sound of that—but only if he was there, my best friend, Phoenix Carter.

Nix stated that one day, we would both rise from the ashes together, just the two of us.

That promise meant everything to me. I was an orphan, you see; my real parents had been killed when our house burned down the previous year. Nix’s story was also grim but slightly different; he had a mother, but he didn’t know who she was.

When I was placed with the Jackson family by social services, Phoenix was already there to help me pick up the pieces of my life.

The emotional bits, anyway. I had been such a mess.

My mother and father had been ripped away from me in one night, and I still struggled to understand how it happened.

How could my father have done the things they accused him of?

Nix told me our coming together was fate, plain and simple. As I said, he hadn’t had an easy ride either.

We’d known each other for almost a year, but living together made it seem longer. We were close. As far as I was concerned, Phoenix was my only family.

“Well?” Nix prompted me with a nudge. I sniffed as he stretched out his large, lanky legs.

Shrugging, I replied. “Just thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous,” he chuckled. I grinned and jabbed him in the side with my elbow.

“Easy Thumper,” he grunted, rubbing his ribs. I knew he was joking; it would take more than a nudge from my bony arm to hurt someone like Nix. At thirteen, the giant was only around two years older, but he was easily twice my size.

We were sitting in our secret place, a flat section of the Jacksons’ roof.

You could only access it by climbing out of the window in the spare room.

It was where I came when I couldn’t sleep, either that or when I was hiding from the twins.

Nix disliked them as much as I did. He joked that they were triplets when they were in their mom’s belly, but the third one died of laughing.

Phoenix always said the right stuff to cheer me up.

I was sitting down, the coldness of the slatted roof seeping through my sleep shorts as I stared out into the twinkling night sky.

You could see the glow of houses and streetlights in the distance; it was pretty.

The Jacksons’ house was on a quiet street, and I liked the quiet.

I used to wear ear defenders when I was little to drown out any noise.

Life in my old house had always been way too loud.

Sliding my injured wrist further into the sleeve of the oversized sweater I wore, I tugged my knees up to my chest.

“You should be in bed, it’s after twelve,” Nix pointed out, sounding concerned.

Taking a deep breath, I replied. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Phoenix nodded his understanding and then lifted his chin to the sky, where there were thousands of stars. I sneaked a glance at his boyish good looks, highlighted by the moonlight. We shared a silence as we took in those twinkling lights.

I had studied constellations in elementary school and had found them fascinating.

The patterns were beautiful to me. There was also a constellation called Phoenix, and of course, there would be, as Nix was also beautiful.

Not that I’d say that to his face. If I did, he would tease me about it and say that beauty is a word for girls and shouldn’t be used on boys.

Once, I called him pretty, and that didn’t go down well at all. He didn’t talk to me for an entire day.

Phoenix was tall and gangly with black hair, amber-colored eyes, and perfect features.

He could easily be in one of those boy bands I heard Daisy listening to on YouTube.

If he could sing, of course, which he couldn’t.

Neither of us could, though we’d had great fun trying to.

We both liked angry rock music, whereas Daisy listened to pop.

Dalton didn’t listen to music. Nix had joked that our other foster brother was as thick as shit and didn’t understand the lyrics.

As well as being horrible, our foster siblings were so different from Nix and me. We were like two peas in a pod, Mrs. Jackson had once said.

One day, we would run away together. Nix vowed that he would always look out for me.

After everything that had happened, giving my trust was a struggle.

But I believed Phoenix, especially when he’d blackened Dalton’s eye after the loathsome bully had shoved me off the garden swing.

I’d bent my finger back, and it went purple.

Nix was furious. I had never seen him so angry.

And now I was nursing a badly bruised wrist. Again, Dalton’s doing. If Nix saw it, he would pulverise the older boy, which would increase the risk of him being kicked out of the family. Mr. Jackson had already warned the boys that fighting would not be tolerated.

The thought of Nix being thrust back into social care and transferred to another family was terrifying to me. I couldn’t survive in that house without him.

“So, what’s with the gloomy face?” Nix asked as we sat there so close to each other.

I had told him a half-fib when I muttered that I couldn’t sleep.

I was there after another argument with our foster sister.

We had fallen out due to Dalton stamping on my wrist the night before.

When I called her brother a bullying shithead, she started saying rude things about Nix.

She only did it to get at me. I was numb to their nastiness even when it was physical, but if they bitched about Phoenix, that cut into me like a knife.

I decided to come clean, not about my wrist but about Daisy.

Nix could read me like a book anyway. "Daisy has been talking behind your back again," I huffed. Nix was always there to listen when things got ugly between the other girl and me. And I knew he’d never fight with her as she was a girl. Boys didn’t hit girls.

At least they weren’t supposed to. For some reason, Dalton hadn’t gotten that message.

I’d seen him hit Daisy, too, and they were blood relations.

Nix’s chest lifted and fell as he grunted. "What’s the evil little witch been saying now?" he asked, cracking his knuckles; something he did a lot.

I itched my nose with my good hand and grimaced. "Stuff about kissing you."

"Really?" He sounded surprised.

"Yep, I think it's revolting."

"Thanks," Nix huffed with a roll of his shoulders, sounding upset.

"What?" I didn't understand what I'd said. I chewed the inside of my cheek, mentally kicking myself as he was probably embarrassed by talking about kissing with a girl.

After a moment’s silence, his next words surprised me.

"You think kissing me would be revolting?" I couldn't tell whether he was teasing or not.

"I didn't mean it like that," I told him in a hushed voice.

It suddenly felt strange talking about such things with Phoenix.

We were friends, and the thought of kissing anyone had never entered my head until Daisy started shooting her mouth off.

She had made me feel uncomfortable and another unrecognizable emotion.

One that made me want to punch the taller girl in the face.

She and Dalton were fourteen, but she looked older.

She even had boobs. They were small, but they were there.

I was flat like a pancake. Not that it bothered me.

Boobs were weird, like two lumps of fat, and I hoped I never grew any.

She’d also gotten her period, something else that she’d taunt me about, as I hadn’t yet.

Daisy called me ugly and made fun of my ginger hair and freckles.

She also poked at me by stating I was immature for my age all the time.

"How would you know anyway?" Nix suddenly asked, his tone telling me he was still cross. I flinched as he cracked his knuckles. Something he did a lot.

"What do you mean?"

His dark eyes scanned my face before he replied.

"Well, you've never kissed me. How would you know whether it's revolting or not?

" Nix said, shifting on the roof, so he faced me. I straightened my legs and turned toward him. He’d lightened up a bit, and I felt relieved.

Hurting Phoenix was something I never wanted to do.

"I don't, I suppose."