I snorted and turned my attention away from everything but the monotone droning of the narrator. I wished I could say I saw the light, but the only thing this show successfully did, was put me into a deep sleep.
“Should we call Beck? Or try to get in touch with Jonah?” Rhys whispered. The sound floated through my thoughts, coming out of a gnarled tree with magenta leaves. Odd. Trees didn’t have magenta leaves.
“We probably should. They’ll be furious with us if we keep this from them. At least Beck will be, the dick. I still can’t believe he stormed out of there like that last night. Jonah though? I’m not sure he has enough energy to care about more than his current situation.”
Now there was a broken camera on the ground talking. What the heck? I bent to get a better look at the poor thing. Seeing something so important to me in pieces twisted my stomach in tangled knots.
Leaves shook as the old tree stretched its limbs. “I tried to call him last night, but his phone was turned off.”
“Beck?”
“No, Jonah.”
A heavy sigh. “Shouldn’t we be worried that her parents are going to cry kidnapping or something?”
The fantastical world of my dreams slowly drifted away like smoke on a breezy night. Reality rushed in with a cool slap to the face as their heavy conversation started making sense to my foggy brain.
“I texted my dad, told him I was spending the day with Astrid. If they start looking for her, I’m sure her dad will let his fuck buddy know.” Disgust coated his words. We hadn’t caught them together since that night, but we’d seen them leave in separate cars at the same time. At least they were getting smart and taking it somewhere where no one would walk in on them.
“What did you see when you ran back upstairs?” Thatcher sounded nervous, like he didn’t really want to know.
It took every wretched piece of mental strength I had, not to tense up and let them know I was awake.
Rhys must have run his hands down his face, making strange noises as he did. “I don’t really know. That bitch had her pinned down on her bed and they were clearly struggling. The only weird thing that I hadn’t processed in the moment is that when I pulled her off of Astrid… the band on her shorts snapped.”
“You mean…”
“Yeah. I think that’s what I mean.”
The furniture creaked with their movements and the conversation died. I had no desire to share what happened. But I’d napped and I’d taken as much time as I could. If I didn’t tell them soon, they’d continue down the morbid path they were on, probably believing something worse was happening in that house than it was.
I rubbed my fingers along the threads of the cushion underneath me a few times, working up the courage to sit up. With a giant breath, I opened my eyes and pushed myself into an awkward side sitting position.
Two sets of eyes drilled into me with something like concern? Warmth?
“I heard. Your conversation brought me back to the land of the living.” My throat was hoarse from sleep.
Thatcher squeezed my ankle. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you. But you’ve been out for three hours and we had to talk about this sometime.”
I nodded. I got it. I doubt I could have kept my thoughts to myself that long. Especially if I was worried about one of the guys.
Fuck. Jonah. How could I forget about Jonah? We needed to make sure he was okay at the very least, and then we needed to make sure he was safe from those dickwads.
“Call Beck and Jonah. While we’re waiting on them, I’ll tell you what happened. Or what I think happened.”
“I got Jonah if you call Beck.” Rhys already had his phone out.
Rhys hung up, right as Thatcher started talking into his phone. Please just let Jonah’s phone be off because he wanted privacy.
“Beck, listen. Something happened this morning and Astrid is calling a meeting. Can you be at my place soon?”
He nodded. “I get it. You have a shift, but it might be a good time to call in. I wouldn’t say that unless it was important. Okay. See you soon.”
When he hung up, he set his phone on his thigh. “He was supposed to work a couple hours this afternoon, but he’s going to see if they really need him. Sunday’s can be busy but he said they didn’t have many cars there today.”
“No Jonah.” I stated.
“No, he didn’t answer.” Rhys tapped furious fingers over his knees as he stared hard at the floor.
“Is there a way we can get his address?” Beck knew where he lived. But would he share it with us?
“You all don’t know where he lives?” Thatcher sounded surprised, but really why would I know where they lived. The only places I ever frequented were his, and on the rare occasion, Rhys’ cottage. And even those were rare since the majority of my time with them happened at school.
Now that I thought about it, I didn’t know where Beck lived either. That was something that needed to change and soon. I couldn’t have fringe friends where I knew just enough about each of them, but not enough to help when they actually needed it. Like now.
“No.” I said. The word was flat and spoke of all the ways my absence of basic facts about the guys was about to change.
“I don’t know either. Before… before Astrid, Jonah and I didn’t run in the same circles.”
“He ran with the nerds and you hung out with the twitch bitches.” Thatcher snickered and Rhys tossed a yellow pillow at Thatcher’s head.
“Laugh it up, art boy. I can’t help it if all the ladies loved me.”
Thatcher cracked up, falling sideways over my hips. “You call those leeches ladies?”
Rhys had the good grace to shrug sheepishly. “No, but it sounded better than the alternative. If nothing else, my mother did try to instill some manners in me.”
I smiled and flopped back down on the pillow. This was a nice break from life, reminding me that even though many things were uncertain, it was also okay too.
“All right,” Thatcher sobered and wrapped long fingers around my wrists, tugging me to a sitting position beside him. “You heard us talking before you sat up. Then you know we need to know what happened. And how long it’s been going on.”
The look in his eyes was both achingly grim, and openly bruised. The combination caught me off guard and something told me he suspected I’d been sexually molested. And at the same time, I had a feeling he had experience with that. Or if not him, someone close to him.
I twisted my head to catch Rhys’ gaze, and while his eyes didn’t hold the same sadness as Thatcher’s, his were just as determined to hear the ugly truth. Straightening up, I scooted over to have my own space. To have this conversation, I needed to be separate. It wasn’t as bad as they thought, but if they tried to touch me, comfort me, I’d break down. And I wouldn’t do that. I hated crying and avoided it at all costs. I couldn’t remember the last time I actually gave in. Even when they told me we were moving and I was leaving behind my one good friend, I hadn’t cried. Instead, seeing it as the opportunity it was and facing it with hard resolve.
To buy a few more seconds of time, I finger combed the knots out of my hair and twisted the locks into a loose ponytail behind my shoulder. I opened my mouth and the front door nearly flew off the hinges as it flew open.
“What happened?” Beck wheezed as if he’d ran all the way from Silver Ranch. He braced his hands on his hips as the midday sun bleached out the scene behind him. The cloud of anger and resentment clinging to him the night before was nowhere to be seen. Standing in the entry way was the Beck I’d come to know and love.
“I was just about to go over it. Come sit.” I nodded to the other half of Rhys’ loveseat. He stalked toward me, but hesitated, finally turning to plop down next to Rhys.
All three hit me with patient stares, letting me tell the story in my own time. “You all know violence is no stranger to Mother Dearest. I haven’t talked about it much, other than to say it was a new development since we moved here. It�
�s always been cutting comments, or passive neglect. The worst she did before we moved was try to manipulate me into being the person they wanted me to be. And they did that by trying to make me grateful for all they’d done, and putting down anything that made me even the slightest bit different.” They all nodded, encouraging me to continue. “I don’t know what changed when we moved here.” I pinched my lips in thought. “Actually, that’s not true. Dad is cheating on her here. I don’t know if he did it in the past, or if it’s a new thing, but I’m sure she suspects something. I think that’s why she’s started to change.
“But this morning, she was different. Desperate and wild, not listening to anything I was saying.” Not that she ever did, but this morning she was lost in her fury. “Beck, after you left last night, Thatcher and Rhys decided to stay the night.” I paused.
“We didn’t want to leave her alone. Not after what happened at the Iron Horse. I don’t think she was in danger, but she didn’t need to be left alone.” Rhys told Beck, who nodded like he agreed it was a good idea.
“But what we hadn’t counted on, was the possibility of the parentals coming back early. Or Mother Dearest, anyway.” I looked at Beck from under my lashes, waiting for him to put it together.
“Ah, God. Tell me no one was in the bed with you when your mom walked in? Because that’s what happened right? You got caught with boys in your room? Your mom probably thought you’d been sexed up all night in a debauched orgy.” Beck scrubbed a grease stained hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Your Bible thumping parents catching boys in your room.” He mumbled to himself as if he saw all kinds of bad possibilities.
“Um… Thatcher was in the bed with me. And they were both in their underwear.”
Thatcher sighed and dropped his face to his palm.
“So, you can imagine whatever brought her back, was amplified much, much more because her delicate sensibilities were offended.” I shifted in my seat.
“What time was this?” Beck ground out.
“Somewhere around six this morning.” Rhys rumbled as he gripped the arm of the chair.
“And you’re just now calling me? It’s almost noon!” Beck pushed forward, seemingly ready to pounce on anyone that made a wrong move.
“Chill, man. Astrid had a rough morning, and needed some time to process before we had this conversation. We came straight here and then she napped. I called you as soon as she woke up.” Thatcher raised his hands in a placating gesture. Beck was not impressed.
“You should have called me this morning, so I could have been here for her too.” A vein throbbed in Beck’s temple and it was strangely mesmerizing. And humbling, that he could care so much about me.
“We called you now. I think my situation is stable for now. We’ll have to figure out what to do later, because I’m not sure I can go home right now.” I bent forward, putting everything into my gaze.
“How about never.” Thatcher said under his breath.
“What happened? What happened after we left?” Rhys speared me with such serious eyes, the bright blue turned molten like a raging sea. If he didn’t like my answer, if it was too much, he was going to flip out. Did I even want to stop him? Out of all the guys, he was the one Mother Dearest was so afraid of, because he had access to the money and resources that came along with the Bennet name. Everything my mother coveted and feared.
Small bits of chapped skin came off as I chewed on my lower lip. “She attacked me. She forced me on the bed, and once I was there, she was trying to check to make sure I was still a virgin. Even though she obviously thought I’d had some wild orgy where everyone put on their underwear afterward.” A deep, shuddering breath helped me gain my center. “She said a lot of hateful things, but that was it. Rhys barged in and it was all over.”
Thatcher scowled as Beck’s face opened in shocking disbelief. “That was it? It was all over? Your definitions are not the same as mine, pretty girl.” He shook his head violently. “We need to make sure you never go back there again.” He exchanged heated glances with the others.
“My parentals can wait. I’m safe with you guys. What I need to do now is make sure Jonah’s okay. You know where he lives, Beck.” I raised my hand when he started to speak. From the defensive line of his shoulders, he was about to deny it. “I know you do. You know too much about him and his family not to know. And you’re either going to take me, or give me the address and I’ll take myself.”
His jaw popped as he stared at the floor. Eventually, he nodded and lifted his head. “It’s not a pretty place, but I’ll take you. I don’t want you going there without me.”
I almost rolled my eyes. If I was as helpless as he thought I was sometimes, I was surprised I was able to tie my own shoes. This would have to stop at some point, but for now, it was working to my benefit. After everyone was safe and content we’d start working on proper expectations in our friendships.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” I stood and remembered I didn’t have any shoes. Fuck.
“What size are you? Trinity has some flip flops in her closet. Her feet are pretty big, so I doubt you could comfortably wear her other shoes.”
“Flip flops are fine.” I stretched and waited for him to reappear, and when he did, I couldn’t stop the frown that pulled at my lips. The neon pink flip flops looked like someone coughed up lavender glitter all over the straps, and unfortunately, it stuck.
Thatcher laughed and neither Rhys or Beck could hide their amusement. “I know it’s not the floaty, breezy style that you like, but it’s all I have right now. Unless you want to wear mine. They’re brown, but probably not as clean.” He studied the clean, sparkliness of the shoes in his hands.
“That’s okay. I’ll wear those. Are we all riding together?” We stepped outside and Beck jogged down the stairs ahead of us.
“I’ll drive.” Beck said over his shoulder. His mustang was parked next to Thatcher’s car.
“Great. Astrid, can you sit in the back? I’m not feeling like doing an impersonation of a pretzel today.” Rhys scratched the back of his head while studying the small car.
“Sure. I don’t mind.” Thatcher and I squeezed in the back first, and Beck and Rhys piled in.
Beck slid on an old pair of Aviators, and revved his engine as he squealed out of the parking lot.
“Showoff.” Thatcher grumbled.
In the rearview mirror, a smirk curled the edges of his mouth before it was gone. He flicked on the radio, and soft rock tunes floated from the speakers. We drove back to Silver Ranch, but before we hit town, he took a series of run-down roads. The beautiful subdivisions I had started to associate with Colorado disappeared, and old, junk ridden houses replaced the clean scenery. The last road we came to was half paved, half dirt, and trailers were sparsely sprinkled here and there. It wasn’t quite a trailer park, but it was close enough.
We turned down a driveway that led to a brown singlewide. No porch, or anything other than concrete blocks as steps, welcomed us. A shiny, silver and black motorcycle was tucked tight to the side of the home. Did he live with someone from Devil’s Hands? No wonder he had a hard time getting away if the club was in his face every time he was home.
The place in general was ratty and run down, nothing like what I’d have assumed freakishly neat, and tidily obsessive Jonah would live in.
Beck turned off the car, and we all stared at the place. “This is it.” No inflection in his tone to give away any of his emotions one way or the other. Although, knowing how he felt about Jonah, I doubt it was anything good.
Piling out, we walked to the dented front door, there was a brief hesitation to see who was going to knock. I wanted to make sure Jonah was okay, but I didn’t want to be the one to actually do the talking if someone other than Jonah answered the door.
I stared at Thatcher until he got the hint. He wasn’t unfairly biased, and wasn’t an intimidating tower of muscle. Yes, he was the best choice. He also had set himself up as our unoffic
ial leader anyway. He was the one who always took charge and dished out orders.
We all hung back as Thatcher stepped up onto the chipped concrete block serving as the stoop. He edged back once he knocked, rubbing his hands down his sides. Was he nervous about seeing Jonah? He couldn’t be uncomfortable with poverty. While his apartment was clean, it wasn’t the nicest building and definitely wasn’t classified as the nicer part of town.
Clumsy movement sounded behind the door, followed by a string of muttered curses. The walls must be as thin as Bible pages. Which was so thin they were almost transparent. A few more muttered curses later and the door swung open, revealing a pudgy, average height man, complete with greasy, unkempt hair and riddled with poorly done tattoos. A bit of sympathy welled inside me as I tried not to stare at what I believed was supposed to be a faded luscious –and naked—mermaid, but looked more like a sagging version of Ursula. I mean, if she was pushing eighty. An involuntary shudder shifted down my spine.
“Who the fuck are you?” His eyes were bloodshot and his words were overly lazy.
“Friends of Jonah’s. Is he here?” Thatcher presented the front of a proper and polite friend making an inquiry on a random afternoon. No biggie.
“Fuck no. He fucking isn’t welcome back here either. You can tell him when you see him, that his shit’s already been trashed and moved out.” He sneered like he was a big freaking deal. “And one other thing, make sure he knows his time is short.”
He slammed the door in our faces, but before it clicked, Beck punched the weak tin door open. Ouch. It smacked the man in the face with the edge and he stumbled back, cursing another blue streak. This guy’s mom clearly never taught him manners.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you over the sound of your pathetic dick squeak.”
“What does that even mean?” The guy did a sad imitation of a snarl and shoved Beck’s chest. Only he hadn’t budged.
“Doesn’t matter. Just know it’s an insult. What was that about him not being welcome here?” The threatening menace emanating from Beck surprised me as much as it thrilled me that he was doing this for Jonah, whether or not he realized it.
Ugly Truths: A Contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 2) Page 11
