Conflicted (The Deliverance Series Book 2)

  Maria Macdonald

  Conflicted

  Deliverance Series

  Book Two

  Maria Macdonald

  Copyright 2018 Maria Macdonald

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Formatting by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Pink Elephant Designs

  Cover Image Copyright 2018

  To Klaire Sutherland

  You told me to do this… so I did.

  It wouldn’t be the same without you by my side.

  They say, ‘Be true to yourself and follow your heart.’

  But what if the two things aren’t mutually exclusive?

  If only one half is being honest, can you ever really be complete?

  For years I was my own oppressor until I found my absolute.

  He was the addiction I didn’t want to fight, one that nearly broke me.

  But I knew, when it came to Casper, I was never going to be a survivor.

  I enjoyed drowning too damn much.

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About the Author –Maria Macdonald

  This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

  – William Shakespeare –

  It’s funny, or maybe it isn’t.

  In a moment when life can become so abhorrent, so horrifically cruel it should be all our brain allows us to focus on, that’s when the beautiful mind comes into its own. Because in that second it provides escape, taking us away from the unbearable pain we’re living in the present.

  Fists rain down on me like rocks, heavy boots striking my ribs with force, my lungs struggle to breathe, and my eyes strain to find solace. Searching out the only beautiful in that moment, purple and pink blur my vision as the tears flow uncontrolled. I don’t know where my camera went in the tussle, but if the field of Cosmos flowers I was photographing is the last thing I see, then I’m truly blessed my mind has decided to gift me with that beauty.

  As they shout their poisonous words, aggressively delivering evil—no doubt accompanied by spittle—my body becomes numb, and my mind tries to do the same.

  “Fucking faggot.”

  “Yeah, dirty ass beater.”

  “I hate pussies like you. I bet you were staring at our dicks in the changing room.”

  I don’t argue, don’t mention that I wasn’t even in their changing room. There’s no point. Six against one, the odds aren’t in my favor. Instead, I focus on the flowers. Something pretty in the darkness. I know it won’t be long before I black out. Then I may wake up… or I might not.

  My teeth rattle and blood pools on the ground as it spills from my mouth. Another blow hits my skull, and the throbbing spreads as my ears start ringing. Someone must jump on my lower leg because a scream rips from my chest as the pain radiates through my limb. Coughing, I’m not sure my body can sustain much more, while my chest revolts as I try to breathe.

  I don’t know what the afterlife will be like. Is there even a place for someone like me?

  There’s only one thing on my mind. One person. Casper. And as I slip in and out of consciousness, I hope, no, I fucking pray, that they haven’t got any suspicions about him. I need to let him know they came for me, I need to warn him.

  Looking through the slits that my eyelids have become, I can only make out a dark figure as he crouches down at my side. “You’re a disease. People like you shouldn’t be allowed to socialize within normal society.” His hot breath smells of beer, and I know his voice, but it’s out of my grasp right now, held somewhere in the recesses of my brain. I can’t quite pick out who it is. But I know it. I know him. “The fact is, fags like you are always trying to turn real men like me.” He trails his finger across my chin, and I catch a faint whiff of something… peanuts. “You’ll never be a real man.” With those words, he punches me once, twice, three times in the face before I lose count and unconsciousness, or death takes me.

  “So, does this mean you’re poor like me now?” Laura slots the last box of Lucky Charms onto the shelf. Standing up, tilting her head back, she places her hand over her eyes to block out the sun and squints up at me. She’s different to the girl I first met all those months ago.

  Her relationship with my twin brother, Tarrant, has changed her. He’s given her confidence she was sorely lacking. They complement one another, each bringing something unique to their relationship, balancing them without ever holding the other back. As far as Tarrant’s concerned, Laura walks on water, and I can’t say I disagree with his assessment. She’s perfect for him, and he loves her beyond anything I’ve ever seen before.

  I often wonder how he managed to love at all. It’s not like our parents were a shining example of a loving couple. No. All they ever taught us was to hate. Our father’s violent outbursts were a sudden realization for the both of us, but his verbal ones were the norm. We were groomed to know whatever we did would never be good enough in his eyes, and we had to feel his disappointment while mirroring it within ourselves.

  Clenching my fists—both of them carefully buried in my jean pockets—I shrug and force a grin. “Seems that way.”

  Laura smiles sadly. “Hey…” she murmurs while raising her hand and gently laying it on my shoulder, “… it’s not that bad you know?”

  I sometimes forget she’s my closest friend. I can’t hide from her, she’ll always see beyond the facade. There’s a lack of mystery between us, but it’s the foundation of a great friendship. I know her honesty isn’t her downfall and, in turn, she’ll never face judgment from me. I love her, and that’s pure.

  “I’ve never struggled,” I admit hanging my head. I can already see a future of ramen noodles, working in a dead-end job, and fitting in study wherever possible. Laura does it every damn day. Although since she and Tarrant have become an item, it’s been less of an issue. Still, she did it and managed, but I’m not as strong as she is.

  “I’ll teach you,” she whispers. Lifting up onto the balls of her feet she wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. I crumble into her hold, clinging to her like she represents life itself.

  “Am I good to take my girl back, brother?
” Tarrant’s voice fills the quiet store, blocking out the tinny country tunes that quietly filter into the shoppers’ subconscious. I sigh, but not in frustration at his arrival. Since Laura entered our lives, it’s not only her and Tarrant who have changed. The relationship between my brother and me has changed too. We’re closer. More trusting of one another, and I can truly say I know now that Tarrant has my back. No, my sigh signals a growing envy I have. Not of him specifically, but more of the love they share. It’s something I want, a feeling I crave. Admitting who I really am, finally being real with those I love, sharing a secret that had tethered me for so long. It should be freeing, my life should be my own again. In being me, I’ve unwittingly set myself apart. I don’t feel free, just isolated. Letting go of my demons scared me. I didn’t bask in light, I created more demons. I don’t want to drown, but I can’t seem to stop myself sinking.

  “Of course,” I reply, smirking like it’s all the same to me.

  Tarrant narrows his eyes but holds in whatever’s working behind them. Turning Laura toward my twin, I take a second to absorb how different we are. Not just because we’re non-identical in appearance, but our personalities are a mismatch as well. We’re a world apart, our lives will never lead down the same path, and I don’t know if he’ll ever understand me. But I love him, and I love Laura, and they deserve the happiness they finally have.

  Laura takes a few steps toward Tarrant before spinning back around and rushing me. Her scent returns before her arms do, but she grips tight and drags me down to her. “We’ll talk… Saturday night, you, me and Morgan. Okay?” she asks, but it’s not really a question.

  Chuckling, I push her away gently. “Saturday.”

  Tarrant gives me a chin lift as Laura makes her way over to him. I nod in return then twist on my heel and leave the store. Sliding into Betty—my truck—I smack my hand on the steering wheel twice. “Where to Betty?” I ask her. She remains silent, so I flick the ignition making her roar to life. Pumping the gas hard, I need an escape, no matter where to.

  That journey. The one I never intended to take. The one that was never pre-planned. The one which would change my life… I don’t even remember it.

  Betty rolls to a stop, almost like she knows exactly where the parking bumper is. I’ve been to this beach on more occasions than I’d like to admit over the last few months. Always looking at the ocean for answers that aren’t there, and always on my own. Well, except for Betty. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if my truck started speaking, just so she could question my life choices. Fuck knows I’ve been questioning them enough myself.

  I climb out of the truck and pat her hood. “I know,” I sigh. “I’m lost, Betty, and you know it, too. Hopefully, we’re the only ones.” Speaking to my truck isn’t entirely unusual. Talking to it about my life is an all-time low. Pity party for one right here folks. Chuckling at my stupidity, I beep the locks and trudge through the deep sand until it flattens slightly as I near the water. There’s something calming about the sound of the ocean at this time of night. The dark sky only adds to the ambiance. Quiet, empty, peaceful… lonely.

  My jean jacket is fleece lined, but the wind is picking up speed. Pulling a beanie from my pocket, I slip it over my head then draw the jacket around myself tightly before fastening a few buttons. I slip my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, hunch my shoulders forward and brace against the wind.

  In the distance a bonfire roars, which isn’t an unusual sight. We’re at the beginning of summer, the days are hot but the nights can be cold. It has to be after eleven now, and tonight is definitely a cold one. Still, it won’t stop parties on the beach, and with the bonfire going strong, the other college students probably can’t feel the cold like I can.

  Smiling, I think back to the beach parties I’ve been to. I shake my head. There’s something wrong with the way I think lately. Everything presents itself as though it happened years before, my thoughts weave themselves in a way that makes me feel like my life is over. Like I’m done. The logical part of my brain kicks in, and I curse myself for being a dumb shit.

  But damn these thoughts. I don’t know where they come from or why I can’t seem to get over myself. I opened up when I told the truth. I became vulnerable, only I don’t know who to. Not one person I care about has treated me any differently than before. I’ve had no negativity from loved ones. Nobody’s shunned me or turned their backs on me. Except for my dad, and he’s not part of my life anymore anyway.

  It’s me. I’m the one who’s been acting strangely. But I don’t know why. It’s like there’s a leaky tap in my brain, and no matter what I do it won’t stop dripping. I’m corroding on the inside.

  But how do I stop the poison when it’s coming from within me?

  I drag my hands from the warmth of the pockets and reach inside the jacket for my iPod. Slipping my earbuds in, I search for a song, smiling when Jason Walker ‘Everybody Lies’ starts playing. I take one more glance over at the bonfire watching the normal college students jumping around and laughing before I walk away from them. My pace isn’t rushed, taking my time as I wander a little further down the beach. The only light now comes from the moon, which is high in the sky and so bright you could be forgiven for believing someone was up there with a massive spotlight aimed downward.

  I reach my safe place, a small collection of rocks, and turn to look back at the bonfire. It’s far enough away I feel better, safe in my own company. Seating myself on one of the rocks, I lay back on the sloped one behind me. They’re all fairly big, at least three of them are more like boulders, so I’m reasonably shielded from the wind. I decide to pull off my jacket and roll it up using it as a pillow for my head. I lay back again, so I’m almost horizontal and pull the beanie over my eyes, wrapping my arms across my body. I’m glad that I, at least, put a Henley on before coming out, it gives me a little more warmth than a regular tee would.

  I can smell the ocean, the salt tickles my nostrils in a safely familiar scent. Ashes Remain ‘On My Own’ starts playing, and my muscles tighten as I listen. My abdomen feels heavy like there’s a medicine ball sitting on it. I try to soften my body, but my mind is another thing. One song moves into another, and slowly, my body and mind find each other and drift together.

  I’m jolted awake when I feel a knock to my shin. Pulling my beanie up, away from my eyes, I realize it’s still dark. Someone’s standing in front of me, but I can’t see who as my vision’s a little blurry from sleep. I pop the earphones out.

  A deep chuckle rumbles from the blur and skips over every inch of my skin. Absently, I realize I’m still lying down, and my Henley has traveled up my stomach, showing off my lower abs. While I wouldn’t usually mind too much, it’s fricking freezing, and I’m still trying to get my brain and body to function.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb your sleep, but you do realize its two a.m. dude.” The guy’s voice is deep, just like his chuckle, and I can hear the humor in his tone.

  Scratching the back of my head, and pulling my beanie off completely, I do an ab curl and sit myself up on the rocks, rubbing my eyes to clear the drowsiness.

  When I reopen them something happens. I look up, taking real notice of the guy standing in front of me. I blink, again and again, thinking I’m dreaming.

  “You okay?” he asks, amber eyes draw me in without even trying. My heart comes alive for the first time in so long. I feel like I’m in a real-life version of the second Matrix film. You know the one where Neo puts his hand into Trinity’s chest, then brings her back to life by pumping her heart in his fingers. For me, in this moment, there’s an affinity I suddenly feel with the film.

  I breathe, and for the first time in ages, my chest relaxes while the weight slides off me. Finally, I can catch my breath. He’s given that to me, and I’m shocked and overwhelmed all at the same time.

  “Hey,” he murmurs, narrowing his eyes. Concern—or maybe it’s confusion—is etched around the edges.

  “Sorry.” I shake my h
ead and stand up to my full height, matching us almost exactly. “I must have dozed off. Didn’t mean to stay out this late.”

  “It happens.” He shrugs with a grin.

  “What are you doing out here?” I ask, ignoring the fact I haven’t even asked him for his name yet.

  “Can’t always sleep. I like to walk the beach at night.”

  “Caden,” I say holding out my hand.

  “Casper.” He lifts his chin, but also grips my hand. His handshake is firm but gentle, and I try desperately not to have a reaction to him. I don’t want to hope he’s gay. I’m not sure why, but I think if he were straight it would crush me.

  I’ve spent a lot of time in online chatrooms researching the gay community. A lot of guys I’ve made friends with online say you can tell when you meet someone—whether or not they’re gay. I’m not sure that sensor works on me. I’ve not got it wrong so far, but I’m scared of making a mistake and pissing the wrong person off.

  “You parked around here?”

  I nod and point back up the beach. “Over at the stonewall.”

  “Right. I’m going that way,” he replies, and we fall comfortably into step alongside each other.

  I sneak glances at him. He’s got a pair of black joggers and sneakers on. His jacket is one of those leather types with gray jersey sleeves and a hood. He’s wearing a baseball cap backward, and some light brown hair pokes out from the front. He’s quiet, and I wonder how much I can ask him without being rude.

  “You always choose the beach for your walks?” I question.

  His eyes flash my way briefly then they settle back in front of him again. “I moved here recently, my uncle has a place on the beach.” His explanation causes me to inwardly groan. His uncle must be loaded to afford a home on the beach. Meeting someone who has money wouldn’t have ever concerned me before. Now my mom and dad have split. My father remains in our old house while they go through their divorce. It’s become really messy, and while it’s being fought, he’s not giving my mom more than the absolute minimum. Every dime she gets from him goes into keeping the house we have. I told her to sell it, but she said she’d lose money on it now. Instead, she’s trying to find a job.