Broken

“Sorry, miss,” he mutters into my ear as he brushes past me.

That voice. I stop dead where I am on the spot as I get chills. Goose bumps pop up and down my arm as I gulp noisily. I know that voice, I know it well. It’s the voice I spent one amazing night with, it’s the voice that brought me here, it’s the voice that I often hear in my dreams, attached to the beautiful man who inspires me every day. But that’s impossible.

My eyes trail in the direction that the man has left and my heart skips a beat. Not only does he have that voice, he also has the same shaggy blond hair and muscular broad shoulders. I don’t think I’m seeing things, I think it might really be him,

Stephen Jones.

But how? It isn’t possible, rationally I know that.. Stephen got killed in America, in some dive bar. Some chick called Katie found his dead body… but as my eyes continue to follow him I become even more convinced that somehow it’s him. He even shares the same swagger. I don’t know how, but it has to be him. Maybe the newspaper got it wrong, maybe it was a case of mistaken identity. If I really think about it, it was only one small article I saw, barely nothing online. I left pretty sharpish after that and I never thought to check up the details afterwards. I didn’t even search him again, almost as if I didn’t ever want to know.

Maybe, just maybe he is still alive. It isn’t possible, but maybe it is.

I think about the pick deep in my purse and I just know what I have to do. I can’t leave this mystery unsolved, I need my answer. I came all this way half way across the world after a chance meeting with him, and now despite all the odds being stacked against us, it seems like he’s here. Really here, in the same building as me, within almost touching distance.

I push my foot forward determined to take a step, and as I do it seems that time speeds right back up again. I didn’t even notice it slowing down as I watched him but now it’s moving too quickly. Everyone is rushing, the sounds whooshing into my ear are too loud, it makes me a little panicky and sick. I can barely keep track of him now and I’m absolutely terrified to lose him again because once I do I just know that I’ll never see him. This is my one and only chance. I have to take it. I need to grab it with both hands or I’ll always regret it.

The bar is forgotten, as is my thirst. I even forget about my friends as I race forwards. Luckily, I know that they’ll understand. I’ve told Ashley about Stephen and the story that brought me to New Zealand so I know for a fact that she’ll get it. To see the one person who’s had a profound, life changing effect on me standing in the same night club as me… it’s fate intervening, it has to be. What other explanation is there for this?

“Excuse me,” I try to be polite but it isn’t getting me anywhere. This is a desperate situation and I need to make my escape. “Move!” I eventually yell. “Get out of my way!” I leave a trail of drunk, disgruntled people behind me but I don’t care. My heart is hammering in my ears, my blood flow is violent and hot, I’ve never been so focused in my whole damn life. I don’t care about anything, only getting to him. He’s my end goal.

Finally, my eyes find him again, only he’s headed towards the exit. That might be better actually, maybe we can have a proper talk outside of this nightmare. I move faster and more determinedly, excited to get to the exit. Any minute now I’ll be with the man that I just know is Stephen, and I will finally get my answers. I can’t wait to find out what happened, how he disappeared, who was really murdered.

“Stephen,” I call out unabashedly as the cold air hits my face. I blink a few times trying to adjust to the darkness as my eyes scan from side to side. I see bodies everywhere, littering the streets around me, but none of them look like him. Disappointment crushes me as I realize that despite my best efforts I might have lost him after all. “Stephen!”

Did I imagine him? Have I finally cracked and started seeing him? I guess that’s possible, maybe it’s just taken a while for my traumatic time to catch up with me. Maybe it’s been there in the back of my mind, waiting to crop up, and now with a little bit of alcohol in my system it’s finally happened. I gulp, shaking my head as a tear threatens to fall. I’ve become so desperate to find him that I’ve started to imagine him the distance.

I turn my body, starting to make my way inside, but before I do I feel a hand clamping down on my shoulder. It’s a strong and firm grip that halts me in my tracks and makes my heart stop dead. There’s something commanding about it that makes me feel all weird inside.

I twist my neck and crane my gaze up to look at the man staring down at me. Those green eyes, familiar yet strange all at once, the man I know but don’t know all the same. My breath feels frozen to the spot and my limbs are utterly filled with lead. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, which I don’t because I’m right where I want to be.

“Stephen,” I whisper. “Is that you?”

He takes one hand off my shoulder and steps backwards as if he’s drinking me in. I feel exposed and vulnerable as he looks at every inch of me. I don’t see a flicker of recognition there which confuses me. I know he’s probably a playboy but was I that unmemorable? I remember every damn thing about him. He impacted me in a way that I never thought possible, and now I don’t know what to think anymore.

This was a mistake, I think sadly to myself. I should have

left things as they were, a beautiful memory.

“No.” He shakes his head rapidly. Sending confusion flooding through me. “Not Stephen.”

“Not Stephen?” I ask curiously. But that isn’t possible. If this isn’t Stephen then who the hell is it?

“No. I’m Kian. Stephen’s twin brother.”

Chapter Thirteen - Kian

“Oh.” I can see shock crossing her face as she tries to process what I’m saying. “Stephen never… he didn’t tell me that he had a twin brother.”

I feel crestfallen at that. I know things were never amazing between me and Stephen, especially as we got older and our competitive nature when it came to our music careers got in the way, but I didn’t expect him to ever cut me from his life. Maybe he left for America when we weren’t on the best of terms, but we were still twins. How the hell can he just forget that? We have… had a bond. It’s supposed to be an unbreakable kind, a twin thing.

“I see, so he didn’t tell me about you.” I stuff my hands awkwardly into my pocket. “Well I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised at that. He always was very secretive.” I run my eyes up and down her, drinking in her long dark hair, her brown eyes, and her curvy body. I just know where my brother met her, she’s just his type… female and sexy. “Are you American? Is that where you met Stephen?”

“Erm, actually I met him aboard the Princess Cruise. He was playing a show there and I was a guest aboard.”

Something about that word sparks a memory inside my mind and I tug my cell phone out my pocket. “I got a random text when he was on that ship,” I gush while scrolling through to find it. “I didn’t answer it at the time because it was the middle of the night when I got it, and to be honest I never thought much about it, I guess I just assumed that he was drunk. It’s only with hindsight that I think there might be more to it.”

Actually, I forgot all about it until she mentioned the name of the cruise, but I don’t want to tell this mysterious woman that. I don’t want her to think bad about me. Especially not now that my brother is gone.

“You didn’t text much?” she asks as she takes the phone from my hand.