Deceit: A Friends to Lovers Standalone Romance Read online

  “You can swim in that dress. I’ll take the blame if Mama says anything to you,” I said. After all, getting in trouble had become second nature to me. I still sensed her hesitation, though.

  She followed me despite her clear reservations, shrugging her shoulders.

  “I’ll go first,” I offered. Running backward in the grass, I whipped off my white T-shirt, which had stuck to my skin from the muggy May weather. I took off running straight into the pond, flying into the air and screaming loudly, my sounds freeing, my expression filled with excitement. My body connected with the achingly cool water, my head dipped under, and I bobbed back up a moment later. Smiling widely, I shouted, “Now it’s your turn!”

  I expected her to walk up to the water’s edge and slowly slide herself in. That was not what happened. She backed herself up, as I did moments before, and took off running in the same wild manner, arms flailing beside her as she ran full speed toward the water. When she hit the edge of the pond, she jumped high and splashed into the cool water, boisterous laughter escaping her perfect pink lips. I’d never felt so happy before. My new friend was just as wild at heart as me. She was a keeper.

  Her laughter was contagious, and we spent the remainder of the morning playing in the pond, splashing water at each other and playing tag. Grace’s voice was more beautiful than I could have imagined.

  As the sun settled in the middle of the sky, I realized it must be lunchtime. Shit. I’d kept Grace from church, and my parents were going to be furious with me—again. It must have been why she was wearing the perfectly ironed white dress. None of that mattered, though, because I enjoyed spending time with my new friend more than I enjoyed anything in life. I also got her to speak. That act alone made me feel proud. It made me feel like I wasn’t all bad. My parents always compared me to Jacob: Why can’t you study like your brother? Why do you have to give us such trouble about going to church? Why can’t you listen like Jacob? They didn’t understand that I was simply different. I was intrigued by a different life. Squeezing myself into a mold that didn’t fit me just wasn’t possible. As much as I craved my parents’ approval, I was determined to do what felt right. Today would be different. I wouldn’t get into trouble. No, I’d get a pat on the back for getting sweet Grace to speak.

  As we grew tired and hungry from our busy morning in the forest and pond, we trudged back to the main house. “Did you have fun?” I turned to her, taking her in. Her wet, auburn hair hung in thick dark strips down her back. Her white dress stuck to her like a second skin. Even in her rumpled state, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  Grace nodded. “So much fun. The most fun I’ve had since…” she paused as a solemn mask covered her face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She stared at me with a longing need, opening her mouth, and then snapping it shut.

  “You can tell me anything,” I urged.

  Her response was to clamp her eyes shut. “Maybe one day. I can’t today.” When she opened her eyes, the veil lifted and I was gifted a smile.

  I tilted my head to the side. “You promise?” I repeated her own words back to her. She had commented about me being patient, and I liked the idea of keeping promises that were special between us. It made me feel good on the inside.

  “I promise.” Grace blinked and bowed her head, and I knew in that moment that I could trust her, that she wouldn’t let me down or look down on me like the rest of my family. Her gaze was pure and trusting, and for the first time in my life, I felt deserving of that trust. After all, I got her to speak and smile. No one else had managed that.

  Chapter 2

  Knox

  The old family van was parked on the dirt road in front of our farmhouse, indicating my family was home from church. My muscles tensed and my stomach turned at the thought of their hateful words. I inhaled a long, deep breath as I opened the front door. Our home was large, partially built of brown bricks and white siding. The inside was spacious and basic with wide wooden floor planks that had been laid by my grandfather in his early days, though Papa had them refinished a while back. The door opened directly into a simple antique white country kitchen. There was nothing fancy about our home, but it was still the only home I knew.

  As I walked past the threshold, I thought, the black sheep has arrived, and I waited for a scolding. Jacob always liked to help Papa put me down, and Mama followed whatever Papa did. The only family members who didn’t completely hate me were my sisters.

  Greta was the epitome of a perfect Hamshean daughter. She did well in school, didn’t run with boys, and lived a modest life. Ida was just as wild as me, but apparently smarter, since she kept her antics secret. Marie, the youngest and most beautiful, with fire red hair, always seemed a little too quiet as she tried to follow the path our parents set for her. She never seemed content nor sad. In a way, it looked like she was breathing for time to pass and something better to come along. She had two older sisters who were like night and day, and she was more like the gray in the middle—or maybe a rainbow waiting to shine after a rain shower. Since that rain shower hadn’t arrived, she waited quietly in the shadows, following the ways she had been taught.

  I walked through the door first, followed by Grace. My papa’s jaw ticked relentlessly while Mama’s mouth fell slack. Not only were Grace and I soaking wet, but Grace’s dress, socks, and shoes were covered in mud. Not the behavior or demeanor of a daughter belonging to the Duncan family. The girls were all dressed impeccably from head to toe and behaved modestly too. Grace’s white dress had turned see-through and her pale skin was peeking through the fabric.

  “What have you done?” Papa growled. I flinched, sensing his lack of patience and growing anger. “When will you grow up and mature?” he boomed. “Your brother was in church today. That is how a good Hamshean boy behaves.” Father waved his hand over Jacob who sat with a smug grin.

  “I’ve done nothing, Father. In fact—”

  “You are the devil, boy.”

  “Worst of all, you kept Grace from church,” Mama cut in, her disappointment apparent. If only they would listen, they would understand. “Grace, go get yourself clean,” Mama insisted, snapping her fingers and pursing her lips, her tone softer as she addressed Grace. “Ida, go help Grace get clean,” Mama snapped. I noted that my sister had barely touched her food when she was asked to leave the table.

  Understanding dawned on me, and the underlying meaning in my mama’s words stung like a prick to the heart. Being with me made Grace dirty.

  “Knox, don’t just stand there. Go clean yourself up,” Papa barked. “And you’re to stay away from Grace, do you hear me? I mean it. AWAY!” Papa’s voice grew louder with each syllable. With a bowed head, I ducked away. My parents wouldn’t learn that I got her to speak. What worried me even more than that was that Grace had grown quiet all over again. I went to my bedroom, grabbed a towel and clothes, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. As the warm water ran over my body, I hummed a tune to the song I wrote for Grace out in the forest.

  Green-eyed angel, eyes so bright.

  Don’t look sad tonight. Stars are shining in the sky.

  Your dark hair flows and it’s such a sight.

  Don’t stay quiet anymore.

  Please, angel, speak to me.

  Because your green eyes they shine so bright and your dark hair is now catching the light and if I am being honest here, I’d say that you literally just took my breath away.

  Grace

  I passed by the bathroom while Knox belted a tune to the poem he had written for me. As the words poured from his soul, my heart fluttered in my chest. I’d never felt anything like this before. I wanted to hear his voice all the time. I wanted him to sing to me again. He made me feel special and wanted, unlike his parents and sisters who made me feel like some city freak. I leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door and slowly slid down to my bottom, pressing my ear to the drywall while I listened to the special words he created just for me.
Despite Mama being gone, I’d never be alone, because Knox promised to be patient, and I promised to tell him my story one day.

  Chapter 3

  Two years later

  Grace

  Winter surrendered to spring as I drifted along the concrete ground of the playground, all by myself, during recess. I realized I’d never truly fit into the small town of Sade. I was now a middle-school student. To my classmates, I was an awkward outsider, since they had been in class together since kindergarten and had siblings in the school. All the students at Father Joseph’s Hamshean school had strong roots in Sade. My lack of connection made me feel isolated most of the time. I kicked at a stone in the yard, counting down the days I had left of middle school while wondering if Mama attended this school. Why did you never tell me about Iowa, Mama? All I knew is that my adopted mother, Dina, absolutely refused to tell me anything about Mama and her when they were younger. I tried confronting Dina many times, but she had a lock without a key on her mouth where Mama was concerned.

  It was the first year that Knox and I found ourselves in different schools since my arrival to Sade. Knox moved to the local high school down the street in September. To his parents’ dismay, he chose public school instead of Father Joseph’s Hamshean Academy. Knox’s decision had caused a world war in our house. Silently sitting on my bed in my room, I listened to Isaac Duncan swearing at his son, putting him down and threatening to disown him. But then, out of the blue, things quieted down and Knox got his way. When I asked him what had changed his father’s mind, he’d said “nothing special.” It had to be a big deal, since Isaac was not the type of man to concede to his son, especially since it made him look bad in front of Father Joseph. Everyone knew how much he cared about Father Joseph’s opinions. Thankfully, Knox’s new high school was close enough that he could walk over to the middle school to keep me company during lunch recess. Since he was a recent graduate, the staff didn’t question his presence or see it as a threat.

  Today was Tuesday, and Knox usually came to hang out on Tuesdays. He was late, which left me with time to think. I realized how much of my happiness in Sade depended on the dark-haired boy who’d stolen my heart. I was speaking regularly now, although I was on the shy side and I mostly only spoke when spoken to. It was difficult to make friends at a school where the children had played together since kindergarten. My fast-paced New York City life often felt like a dream and seemed a lifetime ago. Still, I held on to the happy memories of Mama as we walked down the busy streets and took the local transit bus to school. The smell of the musty New York air sometimes filled my mind, and I inhaled like I was there breathing it in. Then the memory would pass and reality would sink in. Sade was the complete opposite of the life I once led. I loved the fresh air, but there weren’t too many people, and walking to school wasn’t an option, since the roads were made of dirt and street signs were nonexistent. Walking down the dirt road would only lead to another farm—a farm just like the one I was now growing up on. I’d learned to tend the chickens and ride a horse, which I loved. I even attended Sunday Mass—a must in the Duncan home.

  Ever since Knox pulled me away to the forest on that fateful Sunday morning to watch the sunrise, our friendship had been solid. I attended the Hamshean church every Sunday since because I didn’t want to anger Isaac or Dina after they took me in the way they did. I hated being there, though I’d never admit that to my new parents. My first impression upon arrival to Sade was that the Duncans were a warm and caring family, like Mama had been, though it was just that: an impression. I quickly learned that my adopted father, Isaac, was a workaholic who didn’t spend much time with his family outside of daily dinners. The dinners weren’t the kind with flowing conversation either. They were more focused on saying prayers and eating, with few questions from Dina and Isaac directed at their children, asking for updates on their performance at school or referring to a lesson Father Joseph gave. Despite the lack of love and warmth, I was lucky. Those few days spent in the foster care system in New York City taught me how different my situation could have been. As strange as Sade was, and as much as I missed Mama, I knew had to make do.

  “Hey, what’s with the pouty face?” Knox asked, walking up to me on the playground. “I’m sorry I’m late. I failed a math test, and the teacher held me back for a lecture,” he immediately explained. I could never hide my emotions from Knox because he was so perceptive.

  I was dreamy eyed, a feeling I got often when I gazed at him, and I hoped he couldn’t tell.

  “I’m not pouting. Just hanging around,” I mumbled as my heart rate picked up pace. If Knox had been cute at thirteen, then he was a hunk at fifteen. His dark brown hair had grown out a bit, he had grown taller, and he had some muscles too.

  “How about we play cards?” he offered, pulling a deck out of his black leather jacket.

  His parents hated the jacket, but Knox spent the summer gathering wood for his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Clarkson, in order to buy it. And she paid him well. Mrs. Clarkson was a widow. Her farm was large and didn’t house animals anymore; Mr. Clarkson had run a sound cattle ranch and left his wife a nice sum of money to live out her days comfortably. When Knox spent his time working on Mrs. Clarkson’s land, I would sit with her and have tea. Mrs. Clarkson revealed that she knew the Duncans were ashamed of Knox, since he never made it to church. Sade was a small enough town that gossip traveled fast. Mrs. Clarkson had lowered her voice, as if someone was eavesdropping on her, when she explained that the Duncans had become part of the New Age Hamshean Church—which seemed more like a cult. When I asked what a cult was, Mrs. Clarkson simply stated that their views were extreme and the expectations of their followers had nothing to do with religion. I didn’t understand and felt too shy to ask. Mrs. Clarkson then explained she wasn’t an avid churchgoer herself, so she understood young Knox and tried to encourage and help when she could. She was even fond of the leather jacket he bought with the money he’d made working for her and made a point of mentioning that her husband had a similar one in his time. It was then that I revealed to Mrs. Clarkson that I wasn’t a fan of Father Joseph and felt his sermons were more on the eccentric side. The old woman laughed when I revealed my true feelings, then said, “I knew there was a reason I liked drinking tea with you.” That made me happy. I was glad to have Mrs. Clarkson in my life; she was like the grandmother I never had.

  “What kind of cards?” I finally asked quietly as we took a seat on the cool pavement. There was still a good half hour to kill before recess was over.

  “I’m going to teach you to play poker.” Knox’s lips pulled at one corner.

  I had no idea what poker was, but I was willing to do anything the handsome Knox wanted. He was always good at keeping me entertained, and he was a good listener. I had complete faith this time would be no different. Knox got to work setting up the cards.

  “We’re playing an open hand first. That way, you learn the rules. I’ve been practicing with my friend, Tim. I’ve become quite good,” he explained proudly. “Tim and I have been talking about going to Vegas when we’re old enough. I want to enter one of those poker tournaments. You can make a lot of money there.”

  My heart sank. As wonderful as Knox was, and as good as his heart was, he had an itch that made him look for trouble. I didn’t know much about gambling and Vegas, since my adopted father limited what all of us Duncan children watched on television and the internet, but I had an idea that Father Joseph wouldn’t approve. And if Father Joseph didn’t approve, then neither did Isaac.

  “Are you sure this is okay? I mean, Papa wouldn’t want you gambling,” I said hesitantly.

  “Don’t worry, Gracie. Just follow what I’m doing and you’ll see how much fun it is.” Knox convinced me and went on to teach me the rules. I loved when he called me Gracie. It was something new he had been doing for the past month, and I swore to myself that I would do anything he wanted when he called me that. It not only made my knees wobble, but it also held a tone of possessive
ness, informing me that I was most definitely his. Forcing myself to get my emotions in check, I listened to the lesson on poker and caught on rather quickly, which allowed us to play a few real games before our time was up. When the bell rang in what felt like no time at all, I wondered where the time had flown, as it usually did when I was with him.

  “Have a good rest of the day. See you later.” He winked at me with those dark eyes. Knox had this cool way about him that always left me a little breathless. As he turned to walk away, I remained glued to my spot on the concrete, my eyes following the length of his tall, lean body in black jeans and a leather jacket. He was definitely different from the boys in my class. I gave my head a shake to clear my thoughts and compose myself after my Knox-induced trance. Then I retreated to class. As I took the stairs into the school two at a time, I checked out other boys, thinking they didn’t hold a candle to Knox. Then I thought of Jacob, Knox’s twin. He was also tall and dark but less handsome than Knox and slightly shorter. Where Knox’s eyes were almond-shaped, Jacob’s were large and round. Jacob also dressed differently with his blue jeans and conservative button-down shirts, and he was studious and had his nose mostly buried in books. He didn’t spend too much time with me, Knox, or any of his sisters. Jacob tried to be my friend, but I always felt like something was off with him, and Knox didn’t like him hanging around me too much.