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

by Blake Blessing

  I studied the tense set of his mouth and the bulging vein along his neck. “You don’t believe it will work, do you?”

  He violently shook his head as if he was barely holding it together. And maybe he was. In his place, I’d be a blubbering mess while I held my camera to my chest, thinking on all the art I didn’t have a chance to make.

  “No, I don’t. Beck had the right of it when he said it would be me delivering myself directly on a silver Devil’s Hand platter.”

  “You have to have faith, Jonah.”

  “I thought you hated all things religious.”

  Is that what he pulled from this conversation? “Did you know that the Bible says nothing good about church? Church is run by man, and is influenced by man. And you know as well as I do, that men in power are corrupt. Especially ones that believe they have a few Bible verses to back them up. That’s what I hate. I believe in God. I believe in faith, justice, and mercy. I just don’t feel people should blindly follow another person because they carry a Bible in their hand.”

  “That’s… pretty deep.” A flash crossed Jonah’s eyes before he continued. “I can’t have faith in something I know will backfire.”

  “That right there is what is going to get you killed! Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘if you think you can’t, you can’t’? The power of thought is a miraculous thing, and you can’t believe you’re defeated before you even try. That’s stupid. And you’re a lot of things, Jonah, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

  “Yeah, well. We’ll see, won’t we?” He went back to studying and dismissed the conversation. I stared at him for five long minutes, waiting for his acknowledgement. But he acted like I wasn’t there. Fine, he wanted to be done with the conversation. It was done.

  Ryan caught up to me in the hallway and walked with me to class. I glanced around for Rhys, but he’d been strangely absent all day. It wasn’t a big deal for the first couple classes, but now it was starting to worry me.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Ryan tugged on the ends of my hair.

  “Sorry. My mind was a thousand miles away.” I looked directly in his eyes so he knew I was listening to him this time.

  “Pat asked me to meet him after school.” He looked at me expectantly, but I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was expecting.

  “He’s your boyfriend. Shouldn’t you meet him when he asks?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re utterly hopeless as a girlfriend. I swear, I’m going to put you through best friend 101. Teach you the ways to properly gossip and offer support to your fellow bitches.”

  “Ry, you’re not a bitch. And you know I hate conversation. I suck at it.”

  “Yeah, but I keep holding out hope. Let’s try this again. I said Pat wanted to meet me after school. You should say, ‘OMG, Ryan. Do you think this means anything?’” he adopts a high pitch valley girl voice and I give him my best dead eye stare. Then I play along.

  “OMG, Ryan! Do you think this means anything? I thought you and Pat were soul mates.” I clutch my hands to my chest and bat big, vacant eyes at him.

  “You still have some work to do, but it was better. If you could just show a little more enthusiasm and throw in a few compliments, you’d be an awesome BFF.” He squinted at me as if he could see it all now. “Back to important things. It was weird how he asked me. All formal and shit. I don’t like it.” He tried to play it off, but there was an underlying tremor to his words. Ryan was head over heels for Pat, and for whatever reason, he was afraid.

  “Weird how?” We reached my locker so I could swap out my books.

  “He usually tells me at the end of school to meet him somewhere. That he asked makes me feel like he wants to discuss something important. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of the day. I feel like hyperventilating.” He pressed a hand to his chest and glanced around the hallway with wide eyes.

  “Why don’t you ask him if everything is fine? Or why he wants to meet after school?” That seemed like the obvious answer to me. Why did everyone have to make everything so complicated all the time?

  “God, Astrid! No, I can’t do that. Then if it truly is nothing, he’ll think I’m insecure in our relationship.”

  Games. Love was all games, even when two people were in a committed relationship. At times like this, I wanted to stamp those pesky hormones to dust beneath my black combat boots.

  “Ryan, if he really likes you, he’ll accept you as you are. And to be honest, you’re the most high maintenance worrywart I’ve ever known. Show him the real you.”

  He gasped. “You bitch! I can’t show him my real self!”

  I banged my head lightly against my locker then headed off toward my class. I loved Ryan, but he was too much for me sometimes. He called out his goodbye and we waved at each other before going our separate ways.

  At the end of the day, I saw Rhys towering over the milling pimply teenagers, and I called his name. He stopped and waited until I caught up to him. Students passed around us like he was a rock in the current, and girls shot me catty glares as they went by. I ignored them and focused on Rhys. Even with me right next to him, he seemed to pretend I wasn’t there.

  “Where have you been all day?” That came out a lot needier than I had planned. I didn’t begrudge him time away from me, but it bothered me that he was being so distant.

  “I’m in a mood and I thought I’d save you from it.” And he was. This close to him, the strain around his eyes and mouth was obvious. I wasn’t one for horoscopes but I needed to check today’s. Everyone was in a mood, as Rhys had put it. Even Beck was grouchy this morning and he was almost never anything but annoyingly perky when he picked me up.

  “Care to tell me about it as you walk me out? Are you dropping me off before practice?” I bumped his shoulder with mine, then immediately stepped back. Touching was bad. Touching brought all kinds of memory feelings to my body that I’d rather not experience in the midst of a hundred people or more.

  Rhys fell into step beside me, but held his words until we got to his Rover. Inside, he piddled with the radio and heat, even the rearview mirror before he backed up out of his parking space.

  “It’s a full moon.” I said, more to myself than him. It had to be. Why else would these guys be essentially PMSing?

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Why are you in a mood? As it turns out, I’m actually a pretty good listener. I might even be able to offer you some sage religious-based advice.” I was aiming to break the cold barrier he’d erected around himself, but he didn’t even crack a smile.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing to be done anyway.”

  That sounded ominous and downright scary. Maybe his dad was giving him a hard time again? My own father hadn’t called me as he said he would, and I was torn between calming relief and pitiful disappointment.

  “Okay. I won’t push. But if you want to talk about it, I’ll be in my new floral room.”

  Still nothing. I sighed and looked out the side window for the remainder of the chilly ride.

  When we pulled up to the cottage, Trey came around the corner right as we were getting out. I tugged the straps of my backpack, contemplating swinging it around as a barrier between Trey and me.

  “Astrid, hey.” Trey smiled as if we were old friends, not the vicious enemies or the savage rivals we were.

  I frowned as he stopped about three feet from me and rocked back on his heels. To someone on the outside looking in, he was the picture of serene confidence. And I wanted to rake knitting needles over his face and string his intestines up around the yard. Someone could say we were not feeling the same.

  “Fuck off, Trey. You’ve done enough. I can barely stand having you in my sight, and if you don’t leave, I can’t be liable for my actions. At least here there’s no fear of suspension.” Rhys growled and braced his fists on the hood of his car. With his arms bowed out and his teeth bared, he was everything Trey should be afraid of. But the idiot still sto
od there with a small, harmless smile on his face.

  Guilt trickled down my back as I snapped a few unsuspecting pictures of Rhys, catching the unbridled anger emanating from his frame. I’d show him later. He couldn’t be angry with me if I showed him the pictures, right? I was going with that line of thinking. The stack of pictures to show him was starting to add up.

  “I came to apologize. To both you and Astrid. I know I scared you and I promise it won’t happen again,” he flicked his gaze my way as if he actually cared how his actions affected me. Please. “And to you Rhys, I talked to Coach. He told me about the suspension.”

  “Yuk it up, douche face. I bet you’re glad that it happened. All you’ve ever wanted was to one up me in hockey and I bet you had a good long laugh when you heard what games we’re going to be missing. If I thought you could have planned it this way, I’d believe you did it on purpose so I’d miss those games.”

  Miss the games? Rhys had said something about a possible punishment, but it must be worse than he thought it would be. Why did he have to be the one to rescue me? No, that was the wrong sentiment. Why did his cousin have to be such a jackass?

  “That’s hysterical. Like I’d want us both to miss the two most important games of the season. I had no way of knowing you’d be walking by. How could I?”

  “Whatever. You’re just a bitter, broken person trying to make everyone else as miserable as you are. Only you hide behind the excuse that they’re beneath you, and that’s what Dad taught you. Grow up and get counseling. Nothing else is going to help.” Rhys came around the car to usher me to the door, but Trey stopped him.

  “What did you say?” Spittle flew from Trey’s mouth, his face a twist of pure hatred.

  “Move your hands.” Rhys stated calmly, gently pushing me away from him.

  “Repeat what you fucking said!” Trey shouted right in his face.

  I had a moment to think, then I ripped open the camera case slung across my shoulder and prayed I wouldn’t go to Hell for what I was about to do.

  With the camera up to my face, I zoomed in on Trey and started snapping pictures. I captured his rage, the insane glint in his eyes. No one looking at this picture would believe that this guy was polite and well mannered. They would see him for the beast he was.

  “You’re bitter and broken. You live to make everyone miserable, hiding behind the belief that they’re beneath you.” Rhys enunciated each word perfectly as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Trey’s next move happened in the blink of an eye. He threw a heavy fist at Rhys, who swiftly ducked out of the way, then slammed his shoulder in his stomach, half carrying, half running him into the side of the Rover. I snapped pictures as quickly as I could, catching all the evidence in the first few seconds.

  “Stop! I’m calling the cops!” I shouted as I put my camera away and set my camera bag on the group before running in between them. It was stupid, and I was likely to get punched in the face, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  Neither paid any attention to me, even when I wedge myself directly between them, shoving them away from each other as hard as I could.

  A brick must have slammed into the side of my head because the world did a wicked tilt before everything went black.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me?”

  A bright light flashed briefly in each eye. I moaned and tried to move my head, but I couldn’t move. Why couldn’t I move, and why was there a flashlight shining in my eyes?

  Aliens. It had to be aliens posing as angels. I always knew there was some truth to Ancient Aliens. That Giogio Tsoukalos really knew his stuff.

  “She’s coming around.”

  I mustered enough strength to peel one aching eyelid open and stiffened at what I saw.

  Police lights. An EMT and the small flashlight she wielded like a weapon of God.

  What happened? I rode home with Rhys. I tried to get him to talk to me. Trey. Fucking Trey. It was all coming back to me, like an old Celine Dion song.

  “Where’s Rhys?” I croaked. Why did a hard hit to the head make me feel like I had smoked constantly for thirty years? My voice box should be fine.

  “We need to ask you a few questions.” The flashlight lady helped me sit up.

  I searched the area and saw two cop cars, blue lights circling the yard. Each held a person in the back seat. If I squinted really hard, I might be able to tell which car Rhys was in. Because he was in one. Why else would cops be here by the cottage?

  “Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.” The lady persisted and blocked my view of the cars.

  “Is Rhys arrested?” If she didn’t answer my questions, I damn sure wasn’t going to answer hers. This was important. I needed to know if they were charging him. This was the last thing he needed.

  The woman sighed like I was the biggest pain in the butt. “Yes, they are both under arrest. Now, can you tell me what happened?”

  I could tell her the bitter truth, or I could lie. What would be best for Rhys? He was over eighteen and this would go on his record if they actually arrested him. Then my pesky set of morals perched on my shoulder, whispering into my ear. I couldn’t lie. But I could show them the crazy side of Trey.

  “It was self-defense. Trey wouldn’t leave Rhys alone. Rhys repeatedly asked Trey to leave and remove his hand, but he didn’t. And then Trey swung at him.” My sentences were short and broken, but I couldn’t muster up anything more to give her. I was drained.

  “Trey said Rhys was egging him on.” She dangled this bit of information in front of me, as if it would make me change my story.

  “No. Trey approached us as soon as we got out of the car and Trey wouldn’t leave. He was the instigator. Can you grab my camera by the back of the Rover?” I pointed in the general direction.

  “Tom, can you grab the camera at the back of the Rover?” The lady called. “Here, drink this.” She pushed a bottle of water and a few Aleve into my hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital to get checked out. Although it’s unlikely you have a concussion, it’s standard procedure to go. Do you have a parent that can meet us there?” She recited as if she were reading off of a script.

  I could not call either of my parentals. I’d been away for one night. One freaking night. If either of them met us at the hospital, they’d drag me right back.

  Think, Astrid. Think.

  “My parents are out of town. That’s why I was staying here with Rhys. I’m over eighteen and have my insurance card with me.” My parents would get a bill, but if luck was on my side, they wouldn’t receive it for several weeks.

  “I’m sorry, but you still need to have someone drive you home.” She didn’t sound sorry at all.

  “Okay, I’ll call a family friend to meet me at the hospital.” I reached for my phone, but it wasn’t in my pocket. “Can you please find my phone?”

  She stepped away and I was left alone to stare into the two shiny cop cars. Rhys was probably scared and furious. How could this have happened? And what had he meant about missing the two hockey games? Hockey was his life. I’d be prickly with the world too if someone tried to take my camera or phone away.

  A man, who must be Tom, appeared with the strap of my camera bag in his hand. I took it and pulled out the camera, switching it on and turning it around so they could see the pictures. Flashlight lady came back just in time to see the screen brighten. They needed to see Trey in the beginning. It would show them just how unstable he was.

  “This is when Rhys told Trey to leave. And to remove his hands. He didn’t.” I let the picture speak for itself.

  On screen, it was different than when I’d looked through the camera. A vein stood out in his forehead, training down the side of his neck. His eyes were bloodshot and the whites around his eyes were completely visible. I was looking at the real Trey—the unstable psychopath with a dangerous thirst for imaginary vengeance. How had no one ever witnessed this side of him? More like the right people had never seen it.

&n
bsp; The lady hummed under her breath as if she wasn’t surprised, and Tom showed no emotion at all as he stared at the picture. When they were satisfied with the shot, they flipped through the other rest of the photos, getting an almost video like view of the first thirty seconds of the fight with as many shots as I’d taken.

  “Trey wouldn’t leave. Trey threw the first punch.” I reiterated. I couldn’t have shouted Rhys’ innocence anymore if I’d actually said the words.

  “I see that. Can we take your memory card?” I nodded. I would give them the camera if it would get Rhys out of trouble.

  They took the card and helped me into the back of the ambulance. The doors shut with an ominous snap when a black Bentley pulled into the drive. My heart beat furiously as I watched the righteous indignation of Mr. Bennet wash over the cops and EMTs. I’d never been so happy to see him before in my life. The slimy, dirty feelings I usually experienced in his presence were absent as I watched him lord over everyone and threaten lawsuits if they didn’t release his son and nephew.

  I had no idea if it worked, because we pulled away before anyone was allowed to leave the back of the cop car.

  As soon as the house was out of sight, I reluctantly flipped my phone over in my palm. I could call Beck, but he was supposed to be going to see the Devil’s Hands tonight with Jonah. It was too important for Jonah to ensure his safety to pull them to the hospital. If I called either, they’d postpone their trip to come to me and Rhys. And really, that was pointless. There wasn’t anything they could do tonight they couldn’t do tomorrow.

  Thatcher it was.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  “Astrid,” his voice was as warm as honey as it poured over me.

  “Thatcher.” I gulped.

  “What’s wrong?” Yeah, I hadn’t done a great job of disguising my out of control emotions.

  “Rhys and Trey got in a fight at their house. I accidentally took a stray hit and I’m on the way to the hospital. Can you meet me there?”

  “Hospital?” He bellowed. “Where’s Rhys and who’s taking you to the hospital?”