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21
Rhys
The knock on my bedroom door isn’t unexpected. I knew it was only a matter of time before the rents came to talk to me about whatever has them acting weird. It’s obviously something they can’t talk about in front of the twins or Char, which means it’s something I won’t want to talk about at all.
When I don’t answer the door, the knock comes again, louder this time. I roll my eyes, glancing around my stark white bedroom and the wide window that looks into the backyard. Maybe I can do what Lexi does and climb out. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Rhys? Please open the door. I need to speak with you.”
It’s Cynthia. My mum.
So, what are my options? Pretend I’m not here? No. She will just pick the lock. Yes, my foster mum can pick locks. She isthatcool. Sighing, I drag myself up off my bed and go to the door, flicking the lock and pulling the door open.
“I’m trying to sleep. Can this wait till tomorrow?”
“No.” She frowns, stepping into my space, so I have no choice but to back up. “Close the door.”
This isn’t good. I can’t gauge her mood. Is she angry? I don’t normally get nervous around Cin, but I feel it now. It’s like a sickly fluttering in my chest, and as I watch her sit on the end of my bed and pat the spot next to her, all I want to do is turn and flee.
“Come here, honey. We need to have a chat.”
“What about? Is something wrong?” Tucking my dark hair behind my ear, I slowly approach my bed, noticing how my mum’s stare has softened.
“Are you ok, Rhys?” Her voice is laced with worry. “Like,reallyok?”
“If I say yes, are you going to believe me?” I sit down slowly next to my mum, her eyes never wavering from me.
“No, honey. I won’t believe that.” Her admission is all the confirmation I need. Either she knows about Julie and Brian, or the videos, or fuck, maybe even Vixen’s Lodge, or she’s about to introduce me to a new contender in the let’s fuck up Rhys George’s existence.
“What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on hers.
“I know about the video going around of you when you were younger, and I know Julie sent it.”
My brows shoot up. Damn. How did she get this info? The video part was always a risk. Bonnie Mayer’s parents could have told the school or the police. But how does she know Julie sent it?
“When did you find out about the video?”
“On Friday afternoon. Mr Mayer called to tell me about it. He’d been to the police but thought since the message was directly targeting Fox Pines Catholic students, that I should know.”
I nod. “So, have you seen it? Is that how you knew it was me?”
“Yes, and no.” She reaches out and brushes my flyaways back off my forehead. “Yes, I saw the video, but only after I was told it was of you and who sent it.”
Now my brows are practically reaching the ceiling. “Who showed you the video and told you it was me?” There are only a handful of people that know the truth. So, which one blabbed?
“It doesn’t matter who brought this information to me-.”
“Like hell, it doesn’t!” I leap from the bed, instant fury coursing through me at the thought of a traitor in my ranks.
“Calm down, Rhys. We need to focus on what’s important here. Why didn’tyoutell me about Julie contacting you? And when did you go to the prison to see Brian?”
“What? How do you know that? Tell me who told you!”
Cynthia stands, her hands stretched out in a calming manner. “How I know isn’t important. What’s important is that now I can help you. I can’t believe you have been dealing with this on your own.”
“Not important? Of course, it’s important. I don’t keep a journal, so I know you haven’t been snooping. Who the fuck ran their mouth?”
“Language.” She frowns, her tone not at all scolding like it normally would be.
