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

by Blake Blessing

  Jonah didn’t move at all. Not even a facial muscle twitched. I twisted my hands together as I waited for him to put it together.

  This was Beck’s family. Jonah was Graves’ nephew, same as Beck. They could be cousins… or brothers.

  With the precision and freakiness of an owl, Jonah’s head rotated until he had Beck in his sights. He opened his mouth, but before anything came out, he passed out. Angel caught him before he hit the floor and dragged him over to their black leather couch.

  “You would have known about him.” As soon as the words started to flow, my anger built higher and higher. “Why weren’t you part of his life? Do you know how hard it’s been for him to live with his aunt? You could have helped him! You could have saved him from freaking Reaper!” Judgment rang in my words as I looked at these hypocritical people. Why was it okay to have family ties to Beck and not Jonah?

  Angel scowled at me as his dad grimaced. “We made Margaret a promise. She would only take Bane’s place willingly if we agreed never to go near him. Prez didn’t care about the kid as long as he got what he wanted. Then she was caught, and Prez was no longer in charge. She stood by her request. She said we were no good for him. She believed his life would be as shitty as hers if he knew who we were. So we left him alone. It doesn’t seem like it’s been years. But I guess it has.” His shoulders slumped as he regarded Jonah. He seemed like he wanted to touch him, maybe comfort him, but he didn’t.

  “Well, he needs you now. If you care about him at all, you’ll make sure Reaper and his buddies leave him alone. He could have an amazingly bright future if those dicks don’t screw it up.”

  Angel smirked. “I like you. Beck did good.”

  Graves chuckled. “Put us in our place, girl. Put us in our place.”

  Behind him, Reaper groaned and flopped an arm over his eyes. The change in Angel and Graves was instantaneous, going from funny and caring family, to the Devil’s Hands they were. It was scary.

  “Get him out of here, Beck. Angel will help you take him up. Let’s do a barbecue soon.” Graves turned his back, dismissing us as Angel and Beck each threw one of Jonah’s arms around their necks. His head lolled backward and his toes barely touched the concrete ground as they carried him up the stairs.

  After Jonah was placed in the cramped backseat, I stood next to Beck as he said goodbye to Angel.

  “Bet you feel like a fucking fool now, don’t you?” The grin that spread across Angel’s face put the Cheshire cat’s to shame.

  Beck grunted but didn’t answer. “How about we don’t talk about this ever? Any of it. We’ll pretend it never happened.”

  “Oh no, cuz. Now that we know why your sorry ass refused to get to know us, you won’t be able to get rid of us. You’ve broken the seal.”

  “Great.” Beck muttered.

  “Astrid, it was so very nice to meet you.” Angel kissed me on the cheek and thumped Beck on the back. “I expect you to bring her around.” With that, he left.

  We didn’t watch him, instead climbing in the car. I didn’t know about Beck, but I was emotionally drained and ready to put the night behind me.

  “You know Jonah’s going to want answers when he wakes up.” I kept my voice low as I fastened my seatbelt.

  “I know.” And he didn’t sound happy about it.

  “Is he your brother or cousin?” I asked.

  “Brother.”

  He turned on his bright lights as we headed down the deserted dirt road. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? Or tell him at least.”

  “Yeah, Beck. Why didn’t you fucking tell me, you bastard? You had to have known I’d find out here.” Jonah stayed laying down with an arm over his eyes.

  Beck sped up as if to outrun the questions, but it didn’t work that way. “I had hoped you wouldn’t find out tonight. I wouldn’t have kept it from you forever.”

  “Still not cool, Beck.” I murmured.

  “I know. But I wasn’t ready. I just started to like you this weekend. I had a lifetime of hurt and betrayal to get over. Give me a break. I would have told you. Just not yet. It doesn’t matter now anyway.”

  “Yeah, because they told me. They seemed happy to call me family. But not fucking you.” Jonah pushed himself up so he could stare down Beck in the rearview mirror. “How could you hate your own brother? It didn’t bother me when you weren’t anything but Astrid’s friend. But now it burns. It burns my chest like someone’s pouring acid down my throat. I never did anything to you. I hadn’t even spoken to you before Astrid.” His nostrils flared and his upper lip curled.

  I loved Beck. God help me, I loved this lonely, emotional man. He was one of my best friends, and never did anything by halves. But I was with Jonah on this one.

  “You want to know why? Fine. My mom was a good person. She paid her bills, worked a decent job and loved me. Then Bane left us for your mom, and she spiraled out of control. Someone at that fucking club got her hooked on drugs and kept her supplied. I didn’t matter to her. Bane never came around. He never called, never stopped by. Not until I was older when I knew enough to blame him for mom and my sorry life. I knew it was bad even as a little kid.

  “So yeah. I resented you for that. Because he gave you what I never got. He stayed with your mom. He was your dad. My mom made sure to tell me that every day. I’m sorry if I’m human and I had to work through it on my own. I’d already started doing that. Do you think I would have made this call and risked you finding out now if I still hated you?” Beck scoffed.

  It was hard to hold onto my anger when he was hurting just as bad as Jonah, only the shapes of their scars were different. Jonah must have felt the same because he dropped his head on the back of my seat, ignoring both of us.

  “I’ll text Rhys and Thatcher, let them know we’re on our way.” I said, but no one answered.

  It was a long, quiet drive back, allowing time for me to mash all of the events into an order that made sense. Jonah was safe. Beck and Jonah were brothers. They had a crazy family of redeemed criminals. And now we were on our way home. The world was small, and we were each connected in ways we never imagined. Each time we uncovered a threat, that same world made less sense. Or more depending on what you believed in.

  The rest of the week passed in an underwhelming blur. Jonah had no other issues, and continued to stay with Beck. Rhys and I stayed with Thatcher, avoiding both of our houses. Other than a few meaningless slurs made by pathetic people at school, it was easy. The students didn’t hold a grudge against Rhys for long anyway. A single glare from Ragnar shut them up, until the whispers dwindled to a nonexistent piece of gossip.

  Trey wasn’t too happy about that. He’d pass us in the hall with a glare filled with so much hate, it was amazing he could stand up right with all that negativity weighing him down. It wasn’t until we were almost to Rhys’ Rover on Friday that he made his next move.

  “You think you’re so important, don’t you? Superiority practically seeps from your pores as you stare down your nose at the rest of us.”

  We turned to see Trey swiftly walking our way. He held his backpack in one hand as he clenched his fists at his side. A vein popped in his forehead and his eyes were bloodshot.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Trey. Nor do I care.” Rhys opened the back door and he waited for me to toss my backpack in before he threw in his own. He turned his back on Trey as if he didn’t find him threatening, but the move made me nervous. Trey already proved how unstable he really was.

  “It didn’t matter that I was as good as you in hockey. It didn’t matter that I did everything your dad asked of me. It didn’t fucking matter. Do you hear me? It. Didn’t. Matter!” Trey screamed at Rhys, their noses almost touching. They would have been if Trey wasn’t two inches shorter than Rhys.

  A crowd started to form, and cameras started to flash and record. For the first time, I didn’t want to bring out my own. I needed to shield Rhys from their invasion of his privacy. They weren’t taking pictures for art or
to study the strange behavior of teenage guys. They were documenting this moment to embarrass him with it later. And I hated that. Almost as much as I hated that I couldn’t make myself do anything other than stand meekly to the side, hoping they didn’t turn their cameras on me.

  “Are you on drugs? Get out of here. I’ll call Dad about your little scene if you don’t back away.” Nothing riled Rhys. He was still as calm now as before Trey walked up to him.

  Trey barked a sharp, sour laugh. “Go ahead. There’s nothing he could do now anyway. He’s already pulled me off the hockey team and cut off my account. All because I caused trouble for you. His precious son.” A nerve under his eye twitched frantically, even as his brow smoothed out from the twisted face he wore.

  Rhys merely quirked a brow in response. “Astrid, get in the car. We’re leaving.” He started to turn away from Trey.

  With a swiftness I never would have thought someone as big as Trey could possess, he reached into the opening of his backpack and pulled out a wicked looking, short bladed machete.

  “Rhys!” I dove for Trey, shoving him away at the last minute. The blade still grazed Rhys’ shoulder, little delicate spots of blood dotting his shirt around the shallow cut. He pinned Trey on the ground, as the knife clattered to the pavement. It was seconds. It made my heart feel like it would explode.

  “Call 911, Astrid.” Rhys said through gritted teeth.

  “It doesn’t matter!” Trey yelled and flailed under Rhys’ hold.

  “He’s crazy.” I whispered as I called 911. I told the operator what happened and people still filmed.

  “Get out of here. There’s nothing to see.” I waved my arms, blocking the view of the cameras. For a moment, I forgot to be afraid. For a moment, I was only a person trying to protect her friend.

  Sirens quickly approached us and finally, everyone dispersed. I let out a long breath, happy people were about to see Trey for the insane motherfucker he was.

  “Ma’am, can you tell us what happened?” An officer approached me as two more helped Rhys up before cuffing Trey. It was like he didn’t even know he was being cuffed, he only cackled with glee.

  “Trey came out of nowhere, spouting crazy stuff, and attacked Rhys. This is the third time he’s been out of control. When Rhys turned his back, he pulled out a huge knife and tried to stab him.” A female officer guided Rhys over several yards to question him. I kept my gaze on him the whole time. “There’s a cut on his shoulder. It should be looked at.”

  Jonah ran up to us, stopping a few feet away. He didn’t interrupt, only stood there fidgeting as his attention moved from Rhys to me, over and over again.

  The cops finished taking our statements and checked over Rhys’ shoulder. His shirt was sliced, but the cut was barely a scratch. It hardly even bled.

  “That was crazy. I heard guys in the hall talking about a fight between the Bennets. I came as soon as I could.” Jonah panted, still moving his dark gaze between the two of us, like he was unsure who needed his help.

  “I have no idea what just happened.” Rhys scratched the back of his head as he watched the cop cars disappear. Trey’s head bounced back and forth through the back windshield. He was probably still laughing.

  I hopped in the front passenger seat as Jonah took the back. “You know what I think, Rhys?”

  He lifted his brows as if to say, what?

  “Trey is unstable. Mentally unstable, and would do good to be mentally evaluated. But there could be a silver lining to today.” I tapped my lips, deep in thought.

  “There’s a silver lining here? All I see is another act of violence for people to pin on my back.” Such a smart ass.

  “He’s created a pattern. He was unstable and clearly the provoker. You can cry self-defense, which it was. There’s no way you can be kicked off the hockey team for being a victim. Nor could they withhold scholarships from you. I know this is the last thing you want to do, but you should talk to your dad. He’s got the money and attorneys to throw at this if you need it. But honestly, I don’t think you will.”

  He bit his lower lip as he stared at his open palms. “That might just work. I’ll ask Dad to have him evaluated today if possible. The games are on Sunday. If we could prove there’s truly something wrong with him, it just might work.” He glanced at me. “Come with me?”

  I smiled. I loved that he found comfort in my company, and that he trusted me enough to ask me to come with him. It opened something up inside of me, warmth unfolding in my chest. “Of course.”

  At his house, Jonah went straight to the cottage without a word. Not that I thought he felt left out; it was more like he was offering what silent comfort he could. This was important and Rhys’ happiness was on the line, whether or not he wanted to admit it. Asking his dad for help would be a bitter pill to swallow, but what was one small act when it allowed him to gain so much more.

  Rhys reached back and grabbed my hand, banding his fingers around mine. He hesitated for just a moment when he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

  “I understand. I’ve already planned for this. There’ve been too many signs lately that pointed down this path. I don’t like it any better than you do, but there’s nothing to be done now. Our reputation’s at stake.” Mr. Bennet’s voice echoed down the hall.

  Rhys tugged me along behind him, stepping with a surefooted confidence in his search of his dad. He didn’t have to search too hard as he was in the kitchen. Images pelted me with memories of the last time the three of us were in this very spot. Dad was the only one missing. I almost looked behind me to see if he was going to jump out.

  Mr. Bennet waved a hand to hold on when he saw us, but he turned his back to finish his conversation. He was every bit the dangerous businessman staring out the large bay window over the perfectly manicured back yard. Rhys could easily be a replica of his father if that’s what he desired. He didn’t, but he also never talked about what he wanted to study in college, only how he’d pay for it. As soon as this was over, I’d ask him.

  “Good. Let me know if there are any problems.” He disconnected the call and pivoted on his heels, the expensive lavender tie floating from the turn.

  “Dad.” Rhys greeted.

  “Son. Astrid.” He tried to smile but his mouth couldn’t quite form the curve, ending on a pained grimace instead. “I suppose you’re here about Trey. He was my brother’s son, but I can’t have him making a fool of us. A news blogger already dubbed him Twisted Trey. How she found out about the incident, I have no idea.” He waited as if we would agree with him, or at the very least hang off his every insincere word.

  “He can’t stay here.” Rhys demanded, letting go of my hand and stepping slightly in front of me. I lightly touched his back and it seemed enough to settle his nerves. The tension running through his body stilled and his stance relaxed.

  “I know, Rhys. I hate that it’s come to this, but he’s going away.” I had to hand it to Mr. Bennet, he sounded regretful. If it weren’t for the unfeeling lines of his face and eyes completely empty of true emotion, I might have believed him.

  “Before he goes away, I need you to have him evaluated. I want the fight and arrest off my record. If we can prove he was unstable, then it will clear my name. And yours.” Rhys added as an afterthought. Smart move. His dad was equally as obsessed with public image as the parentals were.

  “I’ve already set it up. And I’ve got a call into your coach. It won’t do to have our name smeared for no reason. The phone rang in his hand. “This is him now. Mark. Good afternoon. I’m good, and you?” A brief polite pause filled the air. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve had a hell of a time with Trey. He’s attacked Rhys multiple times and today, he pulled a knife.” He nodded. “Yes, Rhys is fine. And Trey is on his way to a mental hospital as we speak to be evaluated and receive the best possible care. But that’s not why I’m calling. In hindsight, Rhys has been the target of Trey and I have reason to believe getting Rhys kicked off the hockey
team was his end goal all along.”

  Rhys reached back and folded a muscled arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight to his side. He exhaled as he kept his gaze pinned on his dad.

  “Rhys shouldn’t be penalized for being attacked. Especially by someone whose goal was to hurt him this way, and we can’t punish him for protecting himself. Because that’s all it was on Rhys’ side. Self-defense.” The commanding tone brooked no argument, letting the coach know exactly how it was. And how it was going to be. “Rhys needs to play at the games this weekend. I know you’re a fair man, and that’s only fair. Don’t take the boy’s future away.”

  Wow. His dad was being a lot more supportive than I ever imagined he could be. From the astonishment on Rhys’ face, he’d never seen this side of his dad either.

  “Great. I’d expect nothing less. I’ll be waiting for your call.” He hung up, and once again we were left staring at each other.

  “Did you actually do that for me?” Rhys said in disbelief, and my heart cracked a little. Too many children went unprotected by their parents. And for Rhys, he seemed uncertain why his dad would protect him.

  “Of course. You’re my son. No one pushes down a Bennet, not even a blood relation. Trey should have known where his place was. But clearly, he never learned. Now I’m cleaning up his messes so it doesn’t cause permanent damage to our standing in town.” He shook his head.

  The air left Rhys in a defeated sigh. He must have wanted Mr. Bennet to go to the mat for the right reasons. Instead, it was as we’d always known, his only concern was image and staying in the top tier of Silver Ranch hierarchy.

  “What did coach say? Can I play this weekend?”

  “He’s calling back after he discusses it with the board for the league. He doesn’t think it’s an issue, but he’ll let us know. I’ll make some phone calls and have my attorneys on standby. If they try to keep you out of the game, we’ll threaten lawsuit. A group that small would collapse without our support and with a lawsuit draining their funds for legal fees.” He shrugged nonchalantly.