I shouldn’t be so bitter about it. She’d taken me in when my mom went to jail. The fact she could even afford to do that was a miracle. But we didn’t often have food, so it wasn’t that much of a miracle.
The metal door banged against the wall as I entered the trailer. Clouds of smoke hung in the air. Great. She was here.
The bathroom door opened as the toilet flushed and Reaper walked out. That wasn’t his real name, obviously. It was his gang name that was supposed to instill fear in the general population.
He wasn’t shit though. I could take him easily if it wasn’t for the gang backing him up. If it came to a fight, Rhys, Beck, and Thatcher would back me up. Wasn’t that something? The most unlikely group of friends. But they were solid. And we all came together because of a hippie chick.
We still had Trey to take care of. Astrid thought everything was over, but it wasn’t. We just didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“Jonah, kid.” He slurred. “The boss has a job for you. He’s been waiting and you don’t want to make him angry.” He wagged his porky finger in my face.
“Sorry, I don’t take jobs anymore. I’ll be out of here soon.” I pushed past him, but he slammed me into the wall.
“Jare, you hear this?” Reaper laughed until he wheezed, then started coughing.
“Hear what?” She called from the back.
“Jonah said he’s going to be gone soon. You know anything about that?” Reaper braced a hand in the middle of my chest, and I didn’t know if it was to keep me in place or keep him standing. Probably both. It would be so easy to feed him my fist, but I was smarter than that. He would call in his buddies and beat the shit out of me. That was not part of my five-year plan. Anything that could fuck up getting out of this shithole wasn’t part of the plan.
“Yeah right.” She walked through the door smirking, the bags under her eyes wrinkling as her cheeks lifted. “You might want to check the mail. I laid it on your bed.”
She was joking. It was a cruel joke. What she was insinuating wouldn’t have happened.
Reaper stumbled down the hallway, likely for his next fix, leaving me alone. I spun and burst into my room. Three letters were on my bed. Opened. The bitch opened my mail.
With trembling fingers, I pulled each letter out. I was waiting for one specific college. I’d already been accepted to a few, and received some piddly scholarships. Nothing that was worthwhile or would really help me out. I had one more school I pinned all my hopes on.
An acceptance letter to DU. That was great. Amazing. She was bluffing.
The second letter was the amount of scholar ships the school was awarding me. Okay, I could work with that.
The third letter.
The difference I would have to pay after scholarships to go to college there.
Ten grand a year. I didn’t have that kind of money. I couldn’t even finance it. Jare had horrible credit and even if she didn’t, she said she wouldn’t sign the FAFSA for me. And the rule was, someone over the age of twenty-four had to be a co-signer for the loans. I’d have to do some research about grants. Did they need a family member to apply with me? With everything going on, and with stellar grades and a well-rounded application, the thought never entered my mind that it wouldn’t be enough.
“Fuck!” I threw the letters and they harmlessly fluttered to the floor like little maple seeds.
Reaper pushed the bedroom door open, the creaking straight out of a horror movie. “Jare told me what was in the letters. Go see boss. He can give you enough jobs to make up the difference.” He smirked before letting it close.
There had to be a better option to get out of here. Surely, doing illegal runs wasn’t the way I would finally get out. Michael was right, you never leave after you start. It’s a deadly sort of quicksand that pulls you under until you suffocate.
Damn.
To be continued in Ugly Truths…
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Turn the page for a sneak peek of Marks of the Mazza, a fun, light, reverse harem paranormal romance. If you like paranormal and #whychoose, this book is for you.
Please note, this is a med-fast burn, and there may be times where you laugh out loud.
Marks of the Mazza
Thunder booms in the distance as rain pours down from the heavens.
Damn.
Damn, damn, and double damn.
If there is truly a god out there, he’s spitting on me right now. That’s how bad my day sucked. The rain is coming down in torrents where only moments ago there wasn’t even a sprinkle in sight. Ducking into the closest alcove, I shake off the water as best as I can. Water seeps through my lightweight hoodie to my skin.
In the last hour, a rando walked into the book store and wouldn’t leave. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but this man walked around for twenty-five long minutes after we were closed and didn’t even buy anything. I waited to balance the drawer until after he checked out but no, he left empty handed. Someone should teach him common etiquette. If you are going to make someone stay late, you should at least support their business.
Then when I balanced, the drawer was fifty dollars short, emptying most of the cash from my wallet. We aren’t supposed to replace missing funds, but you get written up for coming up short, and there is no way I can afford to possibly lose my job. I’ll take the small loss now.
My current options: wait for the rain to stop or order an Uber. At 11 p.m. I don’t really want to take my chances and wait it out, but I also don’t want to waste any of the last twenty dollars in my account either. I enter the address of my studio apartment in the app to gauge the cost. I’m going to do it. Only seven dollars, and I waitress tomorrow at the diner, so I’ll at least refill my cash stash a little bit.
Two minutes. Not bad. I blow out a sigh, slide my phone back in my bag, and glance up and down the street. Fog rolling in from the mountains slowly blankets the town. Shivering, I wrap my hoodie tighter around my body as a sleek black car pulls up to the curb.
Sweet! My ride’s here.
Running out through the rain, I pull the door open a crack and slide into the back seat. Already I feel better in the heat that’s on full blast. I take a few seconds to check out the car and notice two guys sitting in the front seat. Two very good looking guys. Both are turned around and staring at me with somewhat confused expressions.
“Umm… Hi.” Wow. So eloquent. Internally, I give myself an eye roll.
A warm blush creeps up my cheeks. Good thing it’s so dark back here and these two don’t have a clear view of me. I get the distinct feeling that something isn’t quite right.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “This is an Uber, right?”
The man in the passenger seat gives a smile that’s friendly if a bit mischievous. I take him in for the first time. Shoulder-length, wavy blond hair is tucked behind his ears. At least I think it’s blond.
The driver does not have the same welcoming reaction. I feel like he is staring right into me and definitely finding me wanting. Where the passenger is light, the driver is dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression. Yeesh. Someone must have taken a sharpie to his fancy Italian loafers. My body temperature starts to rise as we sit here in silence. I run my fingers along the seat on either side of me, flitting across the seams.
Both men are still staring at me. I clear my throat again, dig my phone out without looking, and unlock it. Finally breaking eye contact in this bizarre stare down, I glance down at the app.
“Ughhh…” I groan and drop my head on the back of the seat. Looks like I missed my real Uber while participatin
g in this little…whatever this is here. Wonderful. I still get charged five dollars even though I missed the ride. “Look, sorry I barged in on you here. I’ll…ah…I’ll just be going.” I hook my thumb back at the street. Scooting over toward the door, I reach for the handle. Before I make contact, the door swings open, and a third man jumps in and slams right into me.
“What the…” The man grabs my shoulders to keep me from falling over. His weight pins my leg, forcing me to shift away from him. I twist my shoulders to disconnect the unnerving contact. His voice is deep and has a slight accent that I can’t place. Either he is from somewhere I don’t recognize, or his accent is weak.
“Sorry! I jumped in the car by accident. I thought this was my Uber.” I’m mumbling because there is most definitely something going on here, and I don’t know how to escape the situation. They don’t have any lights on. At all. No headlights. No interior lights, not even when the doors opened. The only light is the glow of the clock on the dash.
I turn on my phone again and check the time.
11:08 p.m.
The last eight minutes feel like an eternity has passed and yet no time at all.
The man next to me sucks in a breath as he stares. I scoot away and grab the handle on the opposite side of the car. Again, my attempt to escape is thwarted. It’s the guy next to me again, this time with his hand on my arm. It’s a gentle grip, but tight enough to show that he absolutely means to keep me here. I whip around and look at him with my heart running a stampede inside my chest.
The glow of the street light filters in behind him. I can barely make out any of his features, but his hair is a burnished red, or appears to be in this light. His hair is short on the sides but has a longer wave on top. His ears are actually pretty adorable, as they stick out a bit with almost pointed tips.
He raises a hand, and the tip of his index finger grazes the strange, purplish birthmark under the outer corner of my left eye. It resembles a fuzzy letter K. There is a vertical line, with the little arms fanning out toward my left ear.
It generally gets attention when people notice it, but nothing so…reverent as this.
“Wait. Let us at least take you where you were trying to go.” He drops his hand to the seat, brushing my arm and maintaining contact.
“That’s okay. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I jump out on the side facing the street and briskly walk around the back of the car to the sidewalk. The rain has tapered off to barely anything at all. Just the way my luck runs. If I had stuck it out with the rain, I would have stayed five dollars richer.
Damn you, Uber, and your missed-ride fee.
As I dart up the block, I think I hear a car door close. Turning around for another peek at the car before I round the corner, I notice it’s gone. Strange. The car didn’t pass me or even make any noise. I suppose it could have left in the opposite direction.
An odd tingle runs down my back, and I quicken my pace. Every few steps, I glance behind me, but I see nothing and no one out of place. Just a quiet, deserted business street with a haze of fog hovering around the streetlights. Every so often, I pass a glow of lights behind a window shop, but nothing alarming.
I make it to the apartment complex after about a fifteen-minute walk. Trucking it up the three floors, I suck in a deep breath as I slam the door, lean my forehead against it, and at the same time engage the lock.
What a strange night.
In the mind of Blake
It never fails to amaze me, how far a book comes from its rough draft! I seriously could not have done it without the help of my alphas, Dom Whit and Maya Riley. Then Sue Ryan and Angela Greene followed them as trusty betas, helping to spot inconsistencies and pick out teasers.
This story was so much fun to write and started out as a challenge to myself. My first series was a mediumish burn, some may even think it on the fast side. I wanted to see if I could write a slow burn. It was easier than I thought! But don’t worry, I can’t hold out for too long. There will definitely be some steam in book two.
Pretty Lies: A contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 1) Page 25
