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

by Blake Blessing

  No. That whole bit he just spouted couldn’t be true. He showed her where I lived? Shame burned the back of my neck. And chances were Reaper now knew what she looked like.

  “Speechless?”

  Yes. I was.

  “Listen, if it makes you feel better, I did my best to cover her from the dick squeak’s view. I don’t think he really paid any attention to her. He was too busy with me and Thatcher.”

  “I…thank you. I had no idea she’d insist on looking for me.” My voice was hoarse as I clenched my eyes tight, trying not to imagine Astrid anywhere near Reaper.

  “Which brings us to where you were. And why the call now? Out of all of us, I would have figured I was the last one you would have wanted to talk to.”

  I checked my rearview and side mirrors to make sure no one was coming. Although there was nothing I could have done if they were. With one flat tire, I was stranded on the side of the road.

  “I need your help. I need to go somewhere, and I have a flat tire.”

  “My help, huh. Where were you trying to go?” His tune changed as if he sensed he could use this as leverage.

  Fuck, he was going to demand information in exchange for mechanic work.

  “Listen, I don’t want to drag you into my problems. And where I’m going is for me. It doesn’t have anything to do with what happened with the Devil’s Hands.” Maybe. It wasn’t directly related at least.

  “Where are you?”

  He let that go fast. I breathed a little easier as I rattled off the highway and mile marker where he could find me.

  It wasn’t a long wait. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes. He pulled in behind me and unfolded out of his cherry red ride. He fit every stereotype there was about mechanics and even married some of them to the rock star expectations.

  He whistled as I met him by the back, driver’s side tire. “You’re going to have to watch the road for me as I change the tire. You have a spare?”

  “Yeah,” I grabbed it from the trunk and handed him the jack and every other tool in the trunk. Yeah, I knew nothing about cars. But ask me anything about history, science, or even mathematical equations and I’d kill it.

  “So while I’m down here, and we don’t have to look each other in the eye, tell me where you’re going.” He lifted the car, and started in on the getting the tire off. “Well?”

  I guessed it didn’t hurt to share some of it.

  “I found some of my mom’s old stuff. I’d always thought the worst of her the last few years… before she was convicted. But these letters I found… they shed a different light on her. I’m not so sure she had the choice I thought she had. I want to know what happened.”

  “Didn’t your dad run off a few years before she got sentenced?” Tire successfully off, Beck reached for the spare.

  “Yeah. Which isn’t odd. On our side of town dads don’t often stick around anyway.”

  He grunted. No one liked a reminder of where you came from. Not if it was a place riddled with poverty and bad decisions. Especially not if everyone expected you to repeat history.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “Birch Penitentiary. About two hours from here. Sundays are visiting day; I’ve just never gone before.” And knowing what I did now, for the first time in my life, I understood what regret felt like. I could call her and be done with it, but for what I wanted to ask, I wanted to be able to look her in the eyes.

  “How about we park your car and I’ll drive you. I’ll drop you off when we get back to town.” He stood and wiped his hands on an old rag he’d stuck in his back pocket.

  He was calm, collected, and seemed completely sincere. Everything he was not with me.

  “Why?” I asked suspiciously.

  At that, his mouth twisted and he sighed. “Listen. I never liked you. And to be fair, you did exactly what I told Astrid you would do. But maybe I’m thinking things aren’t so black and white. We’re all connected now, whether we like it or not, and as long as we want Astrid in our lives, we’ll continue to be. Let me help you. We can consider this our first step to mending bridges.”

  I studied him for any sign of treachery. Was there anything he could get out of this? Any way that he could turn this around on me and bring more shit my way? I didn’t think so. And he had changed my tire when I needed help. He could have easily rejected my call or hung up on me.

  “Okay, you can come.” And please, don’t make me regret it.

  We parked my car behind the garage. If anyone were looking for me, I doubt that’d be a place they thought they would find me.

  Buckling myself in, I took in the interior of his car. He was proud of it. That much was clear in the way he studiously kept it clean. If there was a speck of dust anywhere, I’d be crowned homecoming king.

  “So, what happened at my house?”

  “Reaper, the guy that opened the door, he’s a right asshole. I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s obnoxious and definitely suffers from little man syndrome. Only it’s not his dick size he’s trying to compensate for. It’s how expendable he is.”

  I grimaced. Of course Reaper would try to make himself seem like a decision maker for the club. After years of him crashing at our place, it was practically his MO. Once Jare tried to kick him out, then he went off on how he’d have his club beat her ass. He said they’d make her regret her treatment of him. She relented. Things settled down, and she forgot all about it.

  “What made you think it was a good idea to go there? I’m sure they filled you in on what happened Saturday night.” It was a weird feeling to blush. I spent so much time building myself up to be the exact opposite of what I had at home, sometimes I forgot what it was like to make bad decisions or have someone truly see me in the light I so often avoided.

  “Man, you know Astrid. She’s not going to forget you could be in trouble. If I didn’t take her to your place, there was no telling what she’d do or who she would harass to find your address. And aren’t you glad I went with her instead of her going solo?” He raised his eyebrows when he glanced at me.

  “Yeah, I’m glad about that. I was hoping from the way I stormed out, she’d be pissed and forget about me for a while.” He started to protest. “I know it wouldn’t have been forever, but I hoped it would have bought me a few days while she stewed.”

  “There was no stewing. She threw down pretty quick that we would help you or get out of her way… What happened with the Devil’s Hands, Jonah?” His words started off as affectionate and frustrated, but quickly dropped to somber.

  “I’m not ready to share yet. I only want to tell it once, so if Astrid is really determined to be involved, we’ll get everyone together and I’ll tell you all what happened. There’s only so much shame a man can take, and retelling it four times would exceed that limit.” I stared out the window, avoiding his gaze. I could feel his gaze on me, but I wasn’t in the right place to have this conversation. I’d already shared too much. And with Beck of all people.

  “Now’s as good a time as any to tell you what happened with Astrid. You missed a hell of a morning.”

  That was enough to pull me away from my thoughts, and I sent him a questioning look.

  “Oh yeah, I missed it myself, but I heard all about it from the others. After we left Iron Horse, we all went to Astrid’s. I didn’t stay long, but Thatcher and Rhys didn’t feel right leaving her alone. The two cunt muffins that cornered you didn’t really get a good look at her, but she was shaken up. I doubt she’s ever witnessed violence that wasn’t at the hands of her mom.

  “So Thatcher and Rhys stayed the night, and to stay close to her, Rhys slept on the floor and Thatcher shared her bed. Purely innocent, I’m told.” He grumbled like he wasn’t happy about missing out.

  “No…” I could see where this was going.

  “Exactly. Mother Dearest came home early and walked right in to see two guys in Astrid’s room, one of which was in her bed.” He nodded.

  “Damn. Is Astrid okay?”

&
nbsp; “You mean after her mom attacked her and tried to verify her virginity? Yes, she’s good now.”

  “Fuck. Seriously? She did that?” I slammed my hand on the dash and twisted to fully face Beck.

  “Man, chill out. Cherry doesn’t deserve your anger.”

  “You named your car?” I quirked a brow while taking a deep breath to slow my heart rate.

  “It’s not a name as such. More of a nickname so I don’t have to refer to her as the ‘stang. That seems lame to me.” He shrugged defensively.

  “Back to the important part of the conversation. Where is Astrid now?”

  “She’s at Rhys’. She called her dad and had a very productive conversation. He didn’t fight her too hard when she said she couldn’t stay there now. Which was a miracle. So for now, her and Rhys are roommates.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay.” I also wished I’d been there for her. Man, was I an ass. If I came out of this alive, I’d be a good friend. The best. I’d tutor her in math for free.

  I thumbed her name in my phone and without putting too much thought behind it, on the off chance I’d talk myself out of it, I texted her.

  ME: I heard what happened. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow at school. J

  It sent, and almost immediately I received a response.

  ASTRID: You’re alive! Thank God. You have some explaining to do. Tell me you’re safe for now.

  Her message teased a smile right out of me. Beck glanced over as I typed out my next few words.

  “What’s got you smiling like that?”

  “Astrid and her smart words.”

  “Not you too.” He groaned and covered his face.

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t seem important right now.

  ME: I am. I’m with Beck.

  Several minutes later one more message came through.

  ASTRID: Good.

  I can’t say I’ve ever had the desire to visit anyone in the prison. I didn’t even know anyone locked up. Not anyone important to me.

  The barbed wire ringing the fence warned inmates from getting any crazy ideas, and doubly gave the dual purpose of warning others that this place was one you didn’t fuck with. I shivered just thinking about the kinds of people held inside this place. How bad of a crime needed to be committed before society decided you got time behind the barbed fence?

  “You don’t have to come in with me.” Jonah tugged at his collared polo shirt and rolled his shoulders back.

  He wouldn’t admit it, but he was scared shitless. Whatever was in those letters really shook his world up. Poor guy.

  I still thought he was an idiot. And the chances that he’d live to see his next birthday were almost non-existent, but something about his formidable intelligence, and nerdy snobbishness was growing on me.

  “It’s fine. I’ll sit in the waiting room while you do your thing.”

  He nodded mechanically and led the way. Inside, I headed straight for the chairs that lined the edges of the waiting room. A third of the seats were taken by depressed and hopeless people. I imagined they had lost hope a while ago. When their loved one’s sentence was served, they might be able to rekindle that little bit of hope, but I wouldn’t bank on it. Even when they were out, they would still be convicts, still have the stain of this place following them wherever life led them.

  I looked back to Jonah who appeared to be having a heated conversation with the woman at the front desk. She was apologetic, but coming to the end of her patience. With hands on the arm of the chair, I went to stand up, then Jonah stiffly nodded and strode my way.

  “Let’s go.”

  “What’s wrong? I thought Sunday’s were family visit day?” I jogged to catch up to him as he exited the building.

  “Just…just give me a minute. Please.” He walked over to a small, shaded bench under a large tree, his hands linked together over the top of his head.

  “Jonah, are you gonna pass out? Maybe you should sit down and put your head between your knees.” I hovered to the side, flapping my arms like an idiot. What could that woman have possibly told him that upset him this bad.

  “No, but Beck.” He gulped in air like it was on short supply. “They said my mother’s dead. She passed almost two years ago.”

  My eyebrows kissed my hairline.

  That… that hadn’t even been on my radar of possibilities. How could he not know something happened to his mother?

  “Ah, man. I’m sorry. They should have notified you.” Right? That seemed like it would have been somewhere in their procedures.

  “She said they did. In their records, Jarica is listed as the next of kin. Well, actually me, but Jare is my guardian. She was notified.”

  “What? What a screaming cunt. How could she not tell you?” I flapped my arms some more before I realized what I was doing. I always thought I had a shit deal with a druggie mom, but she was never cruel. Only… neglectful. I could have had it a lot worse.

  Looking at Jonah, who was trying to calm down and hide his broken heart, I knew someone that did have it worse. Some of my anger with Jonah disappeared as if it had never been, and I was left there with an emptiness. How did I act with him now? I doubted indifferent was going to work anymore.

  “I don’t know. She never liked my mom, even though their lives are damn near parallels. And I hated my mom. She might have thought I wouldn’t have cared.” He shrugged but the effect was lost when I caught sight of the mist covering his eyes.

  “Still. Even if you hated her and she had no part in your life, she should have shared with you that your mom passed. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  I shuffled him back to my car and when we were both buckled in, I hit the road.

  “Jonah, where are you staying? I’ll take you back there, or we can meet up with Astrid and the guys. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” I rubbed my fingers over the stitching on the steering wheel.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his headshake. “I need words. I can’t watch you while I’m driving. Where do you want me to drop you off?”

  “At my car is fine. I need to be alone right now.” If I wasn’t mistaken, he was flushed. An odd reaction.

  We stopped at a red light and I angled toward him. “That’s not going to work for me. You shouldn’t be alone. Even if you don’t want to talk about it, you shouldn’t be alone. Where did you stay last night?”

  “God! All right. You want to know? I stayed in my old house. Out on Gilbertson County Road.” He squirmed in his seat and stared straight ahead.

  “Why is that such a big deal?” I knew where he lived now. There’s no way he would be more ashamed of his old house compared to his aunt’s trailer. I’d already been to his place. So had the others.

  “Because …” he mumbled under his breath, but I couldn’t understand anything after the first word.

  “What was that?” I prompted.

  “It’s condemned. No one lives there now. I had nowhere else to go.”

  Pity and anger warred within me. This guy. His pride must be the size of Pike’s Peak for him to actually believe that.

  “No. You had somewhere to go. You still have somewhere to go. If you don’t believe that, you’re more stupid than I thought you were.” I sighed, running through my options. “This is what we’re going to do. You’re coming home with me. I have my own place, and you can stay there. It’s out of the way and no one will see you coming or going. Just don’t let anyone follow you home. It would be obvious because several of the roads are long open stretches.”

  “I can’t do that. The whole reason I didn’t take Astrid up on her offer was to protect her. I won’t do that to you either. You shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes.”

  “I’m not going to pay for them. If it comes down to my life or yours—or Astrid’s—I’ll happily hand your ass over. But I can’t in good conscious let you stay in a place that could fall down around your ears from a stiff wind.”

  His head rocked back. “It
’s not that bad. It’s only been condemned for four years.”

  That was cute. He was protective of his childhood home. Well, good for him.

  “Can I trust you to follow me to my place, or do I have to hold you hostage? And I will. I have no qualms about locking you in my spare bedroom and calling in reinforcements. They’ll straighten you right out.”

  It was possible I was putting too much weight on the thin thread connecting us all, but if he had no one else to lean on, then it was up to us to bring him around to common sense.

  As Astrid would say, he needed a come to Jesus talk. I grinned and when I glanced at Jonah, he looked a little frightened.

  Good. It was good to keep him off balance. If he thought I was crazy, he would be less likely to run off and do something else stupid.

  “Fine. I’ll follow you.” It sounded like I forcefully plucked each word out with barbed tweezers.

  I nodded. “We’ll gather everyone soon. You aren’t alone. Even if I never liked you, I won’t leave you swinging in the wind if I can do something about it.”

  Oh, how my song had changed. Astrid was making me grow a conscience. More like, now that I was committed, I wouldn’t back out.

  Or it could have been because he called me for help. Sure, it was because I knew how to change a tire, and he probably couldn’t pay for the work, but having some one on one time with him changed my opinion. Even if only slightly, it was enough.

  Because the ugly truth was, you can’t turn your back on someone when you’ve witnessed their suffering. If you did, it said something altogether different about the kind of person you were.

  “This is adorable.” I said in the fakest voice I could muster.

  Rhys stared at me like it might have been a mistake to bring me here. “Please don’t.”

  A completely unrepentant laugh bubbled up my throat. It was adorable. That wasn’t a lie.

  In all the times I’d hung out at the cottage, Rhys had never given me the full tour. He hadn’t needed to. We watched TV in the living room since no one else would be coming through. Now standing in the guest room, it became abundantly clear why he’d never offered a tour before.