Sugar Rush
Page 20

“We should definitely take it easy today,” Beck says with a nod, and takes another perfect scoop of egg from his waitress-cracked shell. “You have us booked solid with stuff over the next four days, so this might be our only day to relax.”
It’s true. I picked up a guidebook about Vienna in the San Francisco airport and I’m trying to pack in as much sightseeing as I can. We’re going to tour the Hofburg and Schönbrunn imperial palaces; watch the world-renowned Lipizzan horses perform at the Spanische Hofreitschule Winter Riding School; and take in a performance at the famous Vienna State Opera. We’ve got the concierge trying to get us tickets to tomorrow night’s performance of the Vienna Boys Choir performing at Hofburg Chapel in the Imperial Palace, and I plan to gorge myself on stunning architecture wherever we walk, Wiener schnitzel, and Viennese coffee in between. Because this coffee—I put my croissant down in favor of a sip of the creamy, sweet goodness—is fucking phenomenal. I could totally drink this in place of tea if I could figure out how to make it when we get back home.
“Thank you for doing this,” Beck says as he puts his egg spoon down and picks up his coffee. He went with regular black.
I smile at him over the edge of my cup. “Like it was so hard to accept an offer to jet off to Europe with you.”
“You had school obligations,” he points out.
“Still have them when I go back,” I say matter-of-factly. “But you were right…you needed a break from the craziness that I laid on your doorstep.”
“You needed a break too, Sela. We’ve got to tread carefully when we go after JT, so we need our wits about us.”
“You think Dennis will find something?” I ask before taking another sip. Beck had filled me in on their meeting and right now he was supposedly digging into JT’s life.
“I guarantee you there’s something,” Beck snarls with hatred for his partner. “His soul is black.”
“I’m sorry this is hurting you,” I say quietly before placing my cup down. “Especially since he’s…you know…your brother and all.”
“Hey,” Beck says as he puts his own coffee down so his hand can take mine. He squeezes and my eyes lift to his. “He’s not my brother. We might share my father’s DNA, but he’s otherwise dead to me. Don’t worry about my feelings on that matter, because the only ones I have now are disgust and hate toward him.”
“Still,” I say as my head turns to the left and I look out over the sidewalk, which is becoming increasingly busier as the morning wears on. “You probably would have been better off never knowing this. You know…the sweetness of ignorance and all that.”
“I’d rather have you, even if this shit comes with it,” he assures me. “You’re more than worth it.”
I smile, trying to blink back the stinging in my eyes caused by his words. “By the way, how is it that you’re related and you know about it but he doesn’t?”
I’ve been curious about this, as well as other things we haven’t been able to discuss. An airplane isn’t a very conducive place to talk about such sordid details.
Beck releases my hand and picks his coffee back up. He takes a sip and swallows with a grimace. “My parents and JT’s parents have been friends long before any of us kids were ever conceived. When I was about nine, I was playing in my dad’s office, under his desk. They had a fancy dinner party going on and I was bored. At any rate, my dad and JT’s mom came in and I didn’t come out of hiding. Knew my dad would be pissed to find me in there. So I hid under that desk while he fucked her right on the other side, and then later, I listened as they talked about JT.”
My hand rises involuntarily to cover my mouth in shock. He was just a kid…listening to that. Did he even understand what they were doing?
“What did they say?” I whispered.
“His mom was telling my dad about JT getting in trouble at school. I wasn’t half paying attention at first because they’d just had sex five feet from me and I wasn’t sure what the fuck that was all about.”
I can’t help the snort that comes out, but then I clear my throat and look at him with serious eyes.
“At any rate, they started fighting about JT. My dad suggested moving him to another school, and his mom didn’t want that, and then Dad got really angry and said, ‘Well…he’s my son, so I should have a say-so.’ ”
“Oh my God.”
“Right? I suddenly started paying attention to what they were saying. They kept arguing about my dad’s role in JT’s life, and it was clear that JT’s dad—the man who raised him, that is—had no clue he wasn’t his son. It was clear that no one knew about it except those two.”
“So you’ve held on to this secret since then?” I ask, amazed that someone so young would carry such a terrible weight.
Beck shakes his head. “I told my dad I knew a few years ago. We’d gotten into an argument about Caroline actually. The lengths my family will go to keep their precious secrets. I got pissed and just confronted him about it.”
“Did he deny it?”
“No,” Beck says with a wry smile. “But he instructed me that I was to forget about it and never mention it again.”
I watch as Beck takes another sip of his coffee, fiddles with the end of his croissant. I take a breath and share something that’s been on my mind. “Lengths your family would go to keep secrets. An argument about Caroline. You’re talking about her rape, right?”
Beck’s eyes slide up to mine and they’re filled with anger-laced pain. “My parents didn’t want Caroline to report her rape to the police. They didn’t want the public scrutiny.”
“But rape victims’ names are held secret,” I say in defense of Caroline. I know this from personal experience.
With a grimace, Beck says, “Try telling that to them. They didn’t want to take the chance.”
“So what happened?”
“I took Caroline to the police station and stood by her while she reported it,” he says softly. “My parents never acknowledged it, refused to support her, and as you can imagine, that’s what drove Caroline away. She hasn’t talked to them since.”
“That’s awful,” I say with disgust. “I’m sorry, but your parents sound like horrible people.”