Ugly Truths: A Contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 2)

by Blake Blessing

  “Why were those men out here with you?” I kept my questioning short, on the off chance he actually answered, I didn’t want him to be bombarded and answer only what he chose to.

  His jaw flexed but he remained eerily silent.

  “Dude, it’s not like you can pretend we didn’t just save your ass. Talk to us.” Rhys demanded.

  “Fuck you all. Fuck. You.” He jumped up, swaying to the right and bracing himself against the rough brick wall.

  “Come back inside and we can clean you up and go home. My parents are gone for the weekend so you can stay at my place.” I touched his arm and he blindly stumbled away.

  He was being ridiculous. The idiot was hurt, and we might even need to take him to the hospital to make sure he didn’t have a concussion.

  “No. I’m going home.”

  “We need answers, Jonah. How else are we supposed to help you?” Thatcher blocked his way and we essentially had him boxed in on every side.

  “Don’t you get it? I don’t want your help. I’m done with this farcical friendship. It was never going to last anyway. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Fuck off.” He stormed passed us and disappeared around the side of the building.

  None of us moved. I was so shocked and even a little hurt.

  “He didn’t mean that.” I whispered. I hoped he hadn’t meant it. But what did I know? It wasn’t like we had this deep bond tying us together.

  No one responded, we just continued to stand there is silence.

  I tried again. “He’s trying to push us away on purpose. But we can’t let him deal with…whatever is going on, all on his own.”

  “What about his other friends? Would he lean on them?” Thatcher sounded genuinely curious.

  I hadn’t really thought about it, but they each had their own set of friends outside of our little group. Didn’t they? Thinking back, I’d seen him chat to people in the hallways, and work in study groups and other similar settings, but I couldn’t pinpoint a single friend he talked to on a regular basis. He always had lunch alone before me. Alone, alone, alone. He was always alone.

  I looked at Rhys, wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

  “He has acquaintances at school he runs the debate team and student body government with, but I’ve never actually witnessed him with a real friend.”

  “Then he needs us.” I nodded. The decision was made. We’d go after him, show him he couldn’t be a dick and push us away. Then we’d get the details and work out how to solve his problem. And then I’d have a good long lecture with him on how to never again get into this brand of trouble again.

  Jonah was insanely smart. What was he doing with those types of people? My mind wandered back to the conversation where Beck tried to tell me what a bad person he was. But he hadn’t had any proof, only biased speculation because of where he grew up. I shuddered to imagine what he would say when he found out about this. No doubt, he knew there was something incredibly wrong.

  “I don’t know, Astrid.” Thatcher came to stand directly in front of me, maneuvering Rhys out of the way with his shoulders and hips. “If the local gangs are after him for some reason, you shouldn’t barge into his life right now. They’ll see you and not see an innocent person. They’ll see leverage and a way to make Jonah do whatever it is they want. Or if they don’t want anything, they’ll hurt you just to hurt him. I’m not okay with that.”

  He wasn’t, was he? That wasn’t his call to make.

  “If I was in trouble, would you leave me to swing on my own because you were afraid of getting targeted?” I raised my brows in challenge. I expected him to say no, but what would I say if he said yes? It would prove just how superficial our friendship actually was. And I would be heart broken. Utterly devastated.

  Thatcher’s mouth popped open and Rhys chuckled under his breath.

  “She got you there. I’ll help you, Astrid. Jonah’s a good person and if he needs my help, I’ll give it to him.”

  Thatcher spun around and squinted at Rhys. “Really? You will help her go against those crackheads, with the possibility that something would happen?” He expected Rhys to agree with him.

  Rhys shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not saying I would put her out there, but there has to be something we can do. She’s right. We wouldn’t abandon her, and we shouldn’t abandon Jonah.”

  My heart warmed from his words and some of the adrenaline left my system. There was still a healthy dose of fear for Jonah lingering, but I was comforted that at least Rhys would help me.

  “That’s settled. Let’s go grab Beck and get a game plan together. He’s not going to let us interfere easily.”

  The door cracked against the wall, and Beck stood in the open doorway, every inch the avenging angel. It was a good look for him. He didn’t know it yet, but he was about to be Jonah’s guardian angel. He had the most information after all.

  My temples throbbed with each step I took. Three hits. They had completely destroyed me in three hits. Then if that wasn’t bad enough, Astrid saw me like that.

  Whatever. I didn’t need to be focusing on her right now. I had much bigger, and scarier problems waiting for me. The parking lot was starting to empty as Beck’s set came to a close. At least there was no one out here to recognize me or witness my shame.

  Right now, I had to figure out what I was supposed to do. And there weren’t any good solutions.

  My phone rang and Reaper’s name appeared on the screen. I was an idiot. A damned idiot for falling into something I knew was never going to let go of me. But there had been no choice if I wanted a chance to make it far away from this town.

  “Yes?” I gritted out.

  “Kid, did you get the package over to the Dragon’s Lair?” His words were relaxed. Too relaxed. He was probably blitzed out of what tiny brain he had.

  “What the fuck do you think? You didn’t tell me that package would enrage their Graves! A little warning would have been appreciated.” And he would have found a way not to deliver it.

  “Psh. It’s fine.” His words slurred even more. If that fucker fell asleep…

  “No, it’s not. I just had a nice surprise visit from two of their members, and I have the bruises to show it’s not fine.” If I put anymore sharp anger into my voice, he’d be shredded. “I’m done. Out. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t care how good the money is. It’s not worth it.”

  That got Reaper’s attention. “There’s no out, kid. So you need to change your tune fast unless you want a different kind of visit from Graves’ men. And I’m not talking about the nicer, gentler members like myself.”

  What a joke. There was nothing nice, or gentle about Reaper. He was just lazy and stupid. Graves would trust him with important business when he could talk without slurring. Which would happen never. That he was my supposed handler shocked me. I told Reaper I would take some jobs but I wouldn’t step foot in their club. They must be hard up for runners because after a few hours, he agreed.

  “There is an out. And I’m taking it. Tell Graves I documented everything I did, and recorded all the meets with you and the clubs I delivered to. If he doesn’t want those to suddenly find their way into the hands of the police, he’ll leave me alone. And don’t bother searching for the videos. I’ve hidden them in three places, and in the care of people who will turn them over if something happens to me.” I had Astrid to thank for that little stroke of genius. “Oh, and Reaper?” I didn’t wait for him to speak. “Fuck you.” I disconnected.

  Blowing out a hard breath, I started my car and eased out of the parking lot. Where to go? I couldn’t go home. There was a good chance Reaper was parked on the couch right now. I should have taken Astrid up on her offer, but I couldn’t.

  The burn of shame and humiliation hurt like nothing I’d ever experienced. And being in her presence, explaining why I made the dumb ass decisions I had, would keep the burn alive. Looking back on it, I should have found another way. I should have realized working with the Devil’s Hands was ever
ything I knew it to be. Dangerous. Deadly. More fool me for believing I could outsmart them. I hadn’t realized I would be making deliveries that were essentially acts of war in the club’s eyes.

  The city limits came and went and the streetlights became more and more sparse. Instead of turning down the road leading to Jare’s trailer, I passed it and turned down a road I hadn’t been on in at least two years. Back when everything was still fresh, I used to walk down this road to remember things that were better off forgotten. And then I’d plot all the ways my life would move away from the expected path.

  The paved road gave way to dirt, and the tall trees hovered over the road like wary guards. A few trailers on the left had lights on, but otherwise were quiet. I knew what I’d see in the daylight. Piles of trash and tireless cars. The epitome of true poverty. Soon, there were only trees on either side until a small white house came up on the right. Anyone else would have driven by and not known another house sat in the clearing. But it wasn’t really a house anymore. Condemned right after my mom went to jail, no one had lived there since. The grass was so tall, the driveway had almost been swallowed up completely.

  It didn’t matter. I remembered where it was. Tonight wasn’t about plotting. As I got out of the car and opened the unlocked door, I took a deep breath at the sight. The flashlight on my phone highlighted all the ugliness. Paint peeled off the walls in some places, graffiti decorated other parts. A mouse scurried away from a shredded nest in the corner. Hopefully that was all that lurked in here, but that was wishful thinking.

  This could be my hideout for now. Until I knew that the Devil’s Hands would forget about me, I needed to lay low. And this place, I doubted Jare or Reaper would consider this a possible location for me. Tonight, instead of plotting ways I’d get out of this life, I drowned in the regret of decisions that led me back to this very place.

  It was still surreal to have guys in the house, making themselves at home in my room. Of course, my parents hadn’t exactly given their permission. What could I say? In the last month, I’d really begun to embrace my rebellious streak.

  “Need help?” Thatcher appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “No, I have it.” I shut the Jesus magnet covered door to the fridge with my foot as I held two waters in each hand. I would have loved to offer them something other than water or milk, but Mother Dearest believed sugar was the work of the devil.

  Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him.

  “Was that directed at me?” He dipped his head, as if he was unsure of how to act around me since our disagreement.

  “No. My mother.” I wanted to say more, but knowing I’d botch it all up, I didn’t. No matter what I said about Jonah, it wouldn’t change his mind anyway. When we gave Beck the short version, not only had Thatcher remained firmly in the do not help Jonah camp, Beck happily joined him.

  He nodded and shifted to the side to let me pass. As I climbed the stairs, I ignored all the faux happy photos, showing us for the family we were not. Rustling in my room echoed down the staircase, but voices were noticeably absent.

  When I stepped inside, Beck had situated himself on my beloved window seat, staring out over the street, while Rhys looked through the artsy knickknacks on my desk.

  “Beck, what do you think happened?” I handed out the waters and sat in my rolling desk chair. A brief flash of hurt crossed Beck’s eyes when I didn’t sit with him, but too many emotions were fighting inside me, and swirling around the room. Now wasn’t the time to worry about anyone’s feelings over something so trivial.

  “Exactly what I told you would happen. Only I hadn’t realized it was already happening.” Barely restrained fury vibrated through his body now that we were on the topic of Jonah.

  “And if you could please share with the rest of the class.” I deadpanned. If he kept up his righteous act, he would soon find himself sitting on my blue painted, concrete stoop with the door slammed in his face.

  “I went to the same school as Jonah before they realigned the school districts. I also lived close to his family and know what goes on in that side of town. Have any of you heard of the Devil’s Hands?” He glanced around at each of us. When no one answered, he continued.

  “Several motorcycle clubs have settled on the outside of the metro area. It’s far enough out not to draw too much attention, but it’s easy enough to get to the city for any type of crime they’re currently into. It changes all the time. And the one on the outside of Silver Ranch is Devil’s Hands. A few years ago, Jonah’s family got tangled up in their web, like the majority of the families in that neighborhood. There’s a saying. Once in, always in. It means that once you agree to do anything for the club, the only way you’ll get out is death or prison. But even in prison you can’t escape their reach.

  “Based on what I know of Jonah’s family and the club, I figured it was only a matter of time before he got sucked in. Which I did warn Astrid about in the beginning. Only she didn’t take me very seriously.” He sent me a pointed look.

  Offended by his high-handed dickness, I jumped up from my chair. “You said he was a bad person, and that he did bad things. Even knowing what I do now, I wouldn’t have changed anything about our friendship. Jonah’s not a bad person. And regardless of whatever he’s done or not done to get tangled up with those guys outside the club, he’s my friend. He helped me when I needed it and I plan to return the favor!” Pain sparked in my hands as my nails dug into the meaty flesh of my palms. “If you can’t help, or won’t, then leave. I thought you’d gotten over whatever issues you had with him.”

  Thatcher and Rhys looked between us in confusion. That’s right. They had no idea that Beck had a hate on for Jonah before we all met. The only one was probably Jonah, who would have felt his loathing stares in the beginning.

  Beck stood up to match me. “He’s not safe for you! He’s in some deep shit and the only way he’ll get out now is death or prison. There’s nothing you can do. These men aren’t cranky prom queens, insulting anyone who gets in their way. These are hardened criminals that wouldn’t think twice about hurting you, or God forbid, killing you, just to prove a point. I can’t in good conscious help you!” He roared.

  “Man, calm down.” Thatcher pushed Beck back toward the window seat.

  My indignation fizzled out at the scared concern and wild panic in his eyes. If it was really this dangerous, how could we really help him. I refused to give up. But I was willing to change tactics and help him out in a way that wouldn’t jeopardize any of the guys. “Then we go to the police.” I pointed out the fogged-up window, in some imaginary direction.

  Beck shot up again, colliding with Thatcher, who held him back. “Absolutely not! That’s the one sure way to put a target on your back. And don’t say we could do it anonymously. We don’t know if they have any cops in their pocket, and I’m not willing to take that chance.” He huffed and raked a hand through his still sweat-drenched hair.

  “Then what can we do. Help me, Beck. Please? Help Jonah.” I pleaded.

  Except for our rapid breathing, we were frozen, locked in each other’s gaze. His broad shoulders slumped, and he looked away. “I can’t think of a single way that would get him clear of his mess and keep you safe. I’m sorry.” He nabbed his keys from my desk and stormed down the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

  “I’ll make sure the door’s locked.” Rhys mumbled as he followed after Beck.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here.” I snapped at Thatcher. He and Beck were of the same mind on this, so why hadn’t he left with Beck?

  “Ouch. Do you want me to leave?” He stared at me steadily.

  I wanted all of them to stay with me. There was safety in numbers and after tonight, I needed to feel a small sliver, even if it was only make-believe. I sighed. “No. I want help figuring out a way to get answers from Jonah, but I also want help on figuring out a solution.”

  He stepped into me, tipping up my chin. “I’ll help y
ou. But you have to promise to sleep on it tonight and we’ll brainstorm more tomorrow.”

  “That’s just it, Thatcher. We don’t know how serious any of this is. We could have weeks, or those two goons could be searching for him right now to finish what they started. We don’t even know what they started.”

  Rhys popped back into the room and stopped when he saw how close Thatcher was. Please don’t make a scene. Soon I’d have to embarrass myself and talk to each guy individually about what was happening. I might have embraced my rebel side, but I wasn’t the slut Mother Dearest tried so hard to believe I was. I wouldn’t play these guys against each other.

  Stepping back, I cleared my throat and took up my regular position on the window seat. The familiar feel of the plush cushions comforted me. This spot was something of a safe haven for me, and already I felt better.

  “I’m sorry for all the drama tonight. I’m tired and I’d like to go to sleep. Not that I’m kicking you out, but I think it’s probably best for everyone to have a little space tonight.” I wrapped my arms around my jean-covered knees, and pressed my head against the window. The press of cold glass quickly numbed my forehead.

  “We aren’t leaving you, Astrid.” Rhys’ blurry reflection wavered almost like a mirage. His stony expression making him appear harder and older than he was.

  At first, I wanted to protest, but after walking out on Jonah getting attacked, I could use the company. I didn’t even see anything, and the vibe and emotions floating around the alley still haunted me. I’d be very surprised if I didn’t have nightmares. “My parents are back tomorrow morning. I don’t know when.” Which was my awkward way of saying they had to leave early.

  They must have understood because they both nodded. “Do you have a guest room?” Thatcher paused in the door, gripping the doorjamb in one paint-splattered hand.