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

by Blake Blessing

  Spinning my keys around my index finger as I entered the building distracted me from violent thoughts toward my Dad and Trey. Going to prison right now wasn’t in my plans.

  I blanked my expression, sucking any type of compassion inside so deep, all that was left was my anger and need for justice. My ass of a dad could do whatever he wanted, but Trey needed to get a taste of what his life would be like if kept on this path. Not for a second did I believe he’d actually change. But every mark on his record got him one step closer to getting locked up for good.

  To give myself a few more minutes before the hell storm I was about to walk into, I stopped to get my backpack before tracking Dad and Trey down. Dad, Trey, and Mr. Copeland were all seated in the principal’s office. How did I know they’d be waiting on me?

  Mr. Copeland stood up when he caught sight of me. “Mr. Bennet. Please sit. Mr. Music has notified me of a rather disturbing incident. I’ve heard young Mr. Bennet’s side, now I’d like to hear yours. I’m sure you’re aware that either way, a physical altercation on school grounds must be punished.”

  Dad straightened in his chair, smoothing a hand down his tie as he opened his mouth.

  “Save it, Mr. Bennet. I’m sure you’re also aware this is my first year here at Silver Ranch. I assure you, I cannot be bought to make this disappear. I already received a less than pleasant call from the Superintendent.” He frowned in severe disapproval.

  “Now, Mr. Copeland. This is hardly a school matter. Both boys are in my care. I’d say this was more of a family matter, wouldn’t you?”

  The principal studied Dad with a shrewd gaze and my respect for him went up exponentially. It seemed he wasn’t taken in by Dad’s bullshit. “Maybe that would be the case if this were simply a dispute between the two young Bennets. But we both know that’s not the case. Now Rhys, please tell me what happened? I understand you took Astrid home.”

  The last wasn’t a question, so Mrs. Green must have talked with him.

  “I was excused from class to go to the restroom, and as I approached, I heard Astrid’s cry for help. She was scared. I rushed in, and Trey,” I said with a sneer at him before turning back to the principal, “had her trapped in one of the stalls.”

  “Was he doing anything to her?” Mr. Copeland probed.

  “Not yet. He was standing at the door, holding it closed. But he has a history.” I left that out in the open.

  “Now wait a minute, son. That’s not for discussion here.” Dad’s face turned a bright shade of eggplant. Purple was an off color on him with such light gray hair and a fair complexion. Astrid was rubbing off on me if I was noticing color schemes. Trey remained silent but chose to shoot ice shards at me with his eyes. As if I would cower from him. Please.

  Mr. Copeland held up a hand to silence my father. “What is this history, Rhys?”

  “That doesn’t have anything to do with school and should have no bearing on what happens here today.” Dad huffed.

  “That may be, but I would like the context of what happened, so I know how to proceed in order to make sure all of our students are safe.”

  “You’re acting as if Trey’s a common criminal. That he is not.”

  I interrupted them before they argued anymore. My dad would persist until he was blue in the face if he thought he would get his way. And as one of the majority owners in town, he always thought he’d win.

  “The first year Trey stayed with us, when we went on vacation, a young girl accused Trey of attacking her. Nothing came of it. She recanted her statement later. Then the year after, one of my father’s associates had a maid come forward describing an attempted rape. Everyone knew it had to be Trey. Who else has a mop of curly red hair and a gap in his front teeth? We had all recently attended a party at his house. There were never any charges, but I thought you should know.” I avoided both Trey and Dad like they were the plague waiting to infect me at even the minutest eye contact.

  “I see.” Mr. Copeland locked his fingers on his desk as he stared Trey down. He looked as if he was struggling to keep the disgust off of his face, but regardless, a small twist of his mouth and twitch in his eye belied just how enraged he was.

  The several weeks of calm and quiet after we caught our dads fucking, was over. The indignant displeasure wafted off of Dad, clouding the room with its sick perfume. Oh yeah, there’d be hell to pay for airing our dirty laundry in public. Even though it wasn’t exactly a town announcement, to him, this was practically a declaration of how sullied our family actually was. Like everyone didn’t already know that Trey was a waste of space.

  Finally, Mr. Copeland glanced back at me with something like remorse in his eyes. “Trey, you will be suspended for one week, out of school. I expect you to stay far away from Ms. Scott when you are back in school. And Rhys, I’m sorry, but anytime there is a physical altercation, our standard is three days suspension. It is my understanding that you attacked Trey.”

  “I did.” I nodded. Of course I took the opportunity to rain down a little hell on Trey. I didn’t want to admit it, but something deep inside whispered that I always would, as long as I was forced to have him in my life.

  “Then today marks the first day. You may collect work from your teachers and then please immediately vacate the property.”

  “What about hockey? Scouts are coming in the next few weeks to the games, and the club follows school recommendations. Neither of my boys will be able to play, and Rhys is looking at going pro.” Dad spluttered.

  Oh, God. My breath stopped coming as I thought about the repercussions of that. Everything I’d been working towards this last year was to get a full scholarship and get out of here. On my own merit, not on my father’s oily back. Did I jeopardize that? The urge to pummel Trey burned through my body, but I fisted my hands at my thighs. That wouldn’t do me any favors right now.

  “I’m sorry. I really wish I could help, but under the circumstances, there’s nothing I can do.” Mr. Copeland said the right words, and when he locked gazes with me, I believed he was sorry. He wouldn’t do this to me if he felt he had a choice. But if I learned nothing else today, Mr. Copeland was a rule follower.

  “That’s not good enough. Once I get my boys home, I’ll be making some phone calls.” Dad stood and motioned for us to follow him.

  The club was on break this week, so there was no one there to call. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had personal cell and home numbers for every decision-making board member.

  After all that I shared, even if it jeopardized my scholarship, hopefully it would at least put a leash on Trey.

  I stiffly walked out ahead of both Trey and my dad. They didn’t make a sound the whole way out of the school. Good. If either tried to talk to me, I’d fucking pound them into the lockers. This whole situation was my fault really, but at the moment that didn’t matter. It was their fault. If Trey wasn’t a walking rapist waiting for the right opportunity, and if Dad wasn’t an arrogant douche forcing his will on everyone, none of this would have happened. This was their fault.

  When the cool autumn air hit me, I pulled in a burning breath and headed toward my Rover.

  “Rhys,” my name was a whip across the parking lot.

  I turned around and faced my father, shoving as much contempt as I could into my dead stare. This man was nothing to me. He knew it. He just didn’t care. I was the heir of his inherited legacy and he believed sooner or later, I’d want to claim it. Wrong.

  “I’ll expect to see you at home.” He gave me his back as he slid into the pretentious but understated Bentley. Trey tossed me a hate-filled glare as he sauntered over to his own black Escalade.

  He hated that car. All because mine was a few thousand more. But to him, he felt it was a direct snub from my dad. Only, it wasn’t. Dad wouldn’t let him drive anything that was beneath our station.

  In the car, I called Beck. Out of all the guys, he was the only one that wouldn’t be in some type of class right now. Thatcher might not be, but he was still in colle
ge.

  Fuck it.

  I would dial them all and see who was available. The call connected to my speaker as I started out of the parking lot. Beck picked up first.

  “Hey man, hold on a second.”

  “Sure.” His voice was muffled as he answered. He was probably under a car or some shit right now.

  Thatcher was next. Without waiting for Jonah, I started in.

  “Trey tried to corner Astrid today.” Thatcher and Beck both cut me off with harsh curses.

  “What the hell, man? I thought we were done with him.” A loud crash came down the line.

  “You okay there, Beck?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I knocked over one of our carts. What happened?” That sounded like a lie, but I let it go.

  “Please tell me Trey didn’t actually succeed in what he was trying to do. His stunt with the twitch bitches was bad enough. Was it those freshman asses?” Thatcher’s voice echoed slightly, like he was in a bathroom.

  “This was all him. He cornered her in the bathroom.” I expelled a deep breath. I ran through the same history I shared with the principal and by the time I finished, the line was dead quiet.

  Why did I call them? It wasn’t like I actually expected them to do anything. Trey was already suspended for a week. As ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted to talk this out with someone that wasn’t Astrid. For some insane reason, she acted like this wasn’t a big deal.

  “That’s not good at all. We’re not far from the end of the first semester. I could probably persuade Mr. Music to let Astrid off campus for our sessions. Are schedules set for next semester already?” Thatcher asked.

  “Yes. I don’t think that’s going to deter Trey if the suspension doesn’t do its job.”

  “Guys like that don’t ever learn their lesson.” Beck made a noise. He sounded like he knew exactly the kind of guy we were dealing with.

  “Damn, okay. Until we can figure out a way to make Trey realize that messing with Astrid isn’t a good idea, we need to stick to her as much as possible.” Beck said.

  “Agreed. But she’s going to hate it. She likes her independence too much.” Thatcher responded.

  I sighed. “Agreed. Let me see if I can get Jonah on the phone to see if he has any other time to spare. We already chauffer her to and from school and catch her at lunch and in between classes when we can. I don’t know how we’re going to stick to her any more than that.”

  “Talk to Jonah and let us know. We’ll both think on it. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t worry me that she lives right across the street from you.”

  We disconnected as I pulled into the drive, but I went straight to the cottage. If Dad wanted to chat, he’d have to come to me.

  The next three days sucked. Bad.

  Rhys couldn’t actually hang out, but did send me a text letting me know of his suspension. A few nights this week, I tried to sneak out, but my parentals were oddly watching a show together. It was a religious show, but still…they were doing it together. Their angry body language shattered the illusion they were enjoying themselves, but they stayed there for hours. So I stayed in my room, watching for his Rover, but it never left. At least I’d get to see him tonight.

  Jonah was practically MIA. Every time I saw him, he pulled a Houdini and disappeared. Other than a few distracted greetings and lukewarm escorts to class, he hadn’t even sat with me at lunch. With Trey out of school, I guessed I didn’t actually need him to be my shadow. But I thought we were past that, that we were actually friends.

  On the plus side, Mother Dearest had also been mostly absent this week along with Dad. And last night they let me know they’d be gone this weekend. On another Bible retreat. Dad tried to get me to attend as a youth counselor, but I politely declined. And thanks to his dirty little secret, he didn’t push it. Which was great for me, because now I had more time to spend with the guys.

  The doorbell rang and I slammed my computer shut, and raced down the stairs.

  Beck was at the door, looking every inch of the misunderstood rocker, in a black band tee and shredded jeans. They hugged his body in all the right places. The blond scruff on his jaw enhanced his knowing smirk.

  “Hello, pretty girl. Ready?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  “Hell yeah. Now that I know what I’m in for, I can’t wait. And I’m prepared to capture the magnificence of Midnight Marionette.” I held up my camera bag that was strapped over my shoulder.

  “Then let’s roll. Everyone’s meeting us there.”

  I paused. “Even Thatcher? I thought he wasn’t going to come. He was worried about being seen with us high schoolers. Me specifically, since he tutors me.”

  “I guess he changed his mind. I talked to him about an hour ago and he’s definitely coming. I doubt the people there will know he tutors you. How many people really see him with you or know why he’s there. Thatcher’s just paranoid.” Beck laughed under his breath.

  He held out his arm as I locked the door, waiting patiently for me to latch onto him. Tonight, being alone with Beck seemed different. He’d never picked me up at my house before unless it was to take me to school. Even then he parked down the road and waited for me to come out. And something about this spoke of a first date. I mean, other than the fact that our three other friends were waiting for us, and he wouldn’t actually be spending time with me in the club. Or not much after they went on stage. “Do anything interesting today?” He started the conversation as soon as we were strapped into his sweet ride. The mild yellow glow of the streetlamp highlighted a spec of dust on the dash. Beck wiped it off with a loving caress. There was nothing Beck loved more than his baby. I snickered.

  “Nah, just some studying and housework. Super titillating stuff. You?” I twisted in my seat to take in the full picture that was Beck. With his seat leaned back and one arm carelessly tossed over the steering wheel, he looked like the bad boy that promised a good time. For once in what seemed like forever, I was able to snap a picture. When I glanced down, a cheesy grin couldn’t be stopped. Beck was in profile and completely unaware since I learned my flash lesson. It was shadowed and edgy, and absolutely exquisite. This was going in a frame whenever I was able to move out.

  I glanced back up when Beck didn’t answer me. His easy-going manner was all but gone and if it wasn’t a trick of the light, his face had paled significantly.

  “Beck? Did something bad happen today?” Without any direction from me, my hand closed the distance until my fingers curled around his muscular forearm.

  Startled, he glanced at me before switching out hands on the steering wheel and catching my hand in his own. Another few seconds passed as a leather necklace hanging from the rearview mirror swayed with the gentle motion of the ride.

  “Yeah. But it’s all good now.” He finally answered without the usual heat he packed into his words.

  “Are you sure? It didn’t seem like nothing. And I… we’re friends, right? Friends lean on each other? If you need to talk about something, I’m a good listener. I can’t guarantee I’d give the best advice, because, you know, I’ve been pretty sheltered. But I can definitely listen.” Wow, that was the most awkward speech ever. After that, he’d probably rather take me back home than spill any of his secrets. I hadn’t exactly instilled trust with my babbling.

  He grinned and brought my hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of my hand. His lips were soft and sweet, so different from the callouses that decorated his fingers from years of mastering the guitar.

  “It isn’t pretty. I don’t know that I want to rope you into the ugly truths of my life. I’d like to think you see me as this luscious sex god that you can’t get enough of.”

  I laughed and he joined me.

  “I do think of you that way. You’re definitely the only Rock star I know in real life. And whether you’re big time or not, there’s something magical about when you get onstage. But I know art. And no matter what medium you choose to express yourself in,
the ones that are truly great, that call out such strong emotions others will never experience in their own life, they had a pain so deep, they used art to escape it all. No that isn’t right. Artists aren’t trying to escape their life, they’re sharing their pain with the world so they aren’t alone. To be as great as you are, Beck, I know there’s pain and ugliness. But I want to know it. I want to know you.” I leaned my head back against the headrest. It was almost like my words were too heavy, and to speak them, I needed the extra support.

  Beck squeezed my hand so hard, I doubted he realized he had done it. “All right, pretty girl. I want you to know me too. Do you remember that day when I fixed your taillight?” He waited a beat for my response.

  “Of course. You were my first hero. How could I forget?” I ran my thumb over the back of his hand.

  He returned the small smile. “I’m glad. I’ve never been anyone’s hero before… I’m sure you remember my mom stumbling through the back. She was high out of her fucking mind. I’d like to say that was unusual. But it wasn’t. That’s been my life for years. She’s always had an addiction problem, but it’s spiraled since I graduated. And today? Today one of her dealers came knocking, asking me to pay up for her drugs. For years, she got it from some lowlife and I have no idea what she did in exchange, but she didn’t give him money. And I doubt he gave it to her out of the kindness of his blackened heart. I don’t normally see it. Except for today. Apparently, now she’s going to this dumbass, who gave her a tab.” He shook his head.

  “Wow, that’s… I don’t even know what to say. How much of a relationship do you still have with her?” Poor Beck. How hard would it be to watch someone close to you wither away from self-destruction? My own parents seemed larger than life most of the time.