Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2) by Sarah Duncan (reading tree txt) 📕

name, Alexis, in brackets Lexi, Amity West. Born on the 13th of May 2002. Parents are Ruth and Maxwell West. Sibling is Mike West. You live at-.”

“Stop. I know all that shit. Readout what it says about my personal situation.” I’m struggling to keep my anger in check. I’m getting sick of people tiptoeing around the issues.

“Okay, then. Claudia from Child Services has reported that Miss Alexis West was in a dangerous situation on Thursday the 15th of August 2019, which involved her father, Mr Maxwell West, and her brother, Mr Mike West. The situation is of a sensitive nature that has resulted in an ongoing investigation with an alleged physical assault, crude acts and possible molestation.”

“Okay, stop!” I hold my hand up, sucking in air as nausea hits, “I don’t want to hear any more.”

Mr Matthews looks up from my file with soft eyes. “I’m sorry, Lexi, I should have warned you before I read that out.”

I take a few moments to breathe away the tears that burn the back of my eyes and shake my head.

“I asked, and you answered. It’s fine.” My voice is raspy as I try to swallow down the lump in my throat.

Placing the file down on the little table next to his chair, Mr Matthews leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I didn’t want you to know what it said, but I want you to trust me, Lexi. I want to help you. What happened to you will affect you for a long time. I know you know that. What you tell me is just between us. I do have to give a report to Child Services, but it’s only a summary report. Nothing of detail will be included. I don’t expect you to talk about what happened with your father and brother, not today, but I hope you will tell me something that I can try to help you with.”

“I’m angry.” I can’t even hold the words in. They come out on their own as if someone else spoke them.

Mr Matthews nods, “Anger is expected.”

“I’m really fucking angry,” I admit, letting the strange voice inside me speak again.

He nods again. “Do you feel violent?”

I shrug. I don’t want to tell him the truth and say yes, but I can’t say no, either.

“Do you want to talk about the violent thoughts you have? Who are they directed at?”

“Who do you think?” I glare at him feeling too pissed off to be nice.

“Well, if I had to guess, I would say your brother and your father.”

“Bingo,” I say, sarcasm lacing my tone.

“Have you heard from either of them?”

I frown at Mr Matthews, “No! And I better not either!”

He nods, “My records show you are in the care of a family friend. Do you feel safe with them?”

I nod, blatantly lying to him, and when he looks relieved, I feel the same way. I’d thought Andrea, Ayden’s mum, would have contacted Claudia at Child Services to let her know I left their care. But obviously, that hasn’t happened, which must be why I haven’t had Child Services on my doorstep.

“Our time is nearly up, Lexi, but I want you to know that you can come and talk to me anytime. No need to wait for your next appointment if you need to see me before then. In the meantime, I think it would be a good idea for you to write in a journal every day. It may help to get your anger out of your head and onto paper.”

Mr Matthews suggestion is disappointing. Of course, he would suggest journal writing, just like every other typical school counsellor. The only thing is, there is no way in hell I am writing down my dark thoughts. Writing that I want to slice Mike’s throat open with a blade is as good as a confession.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I’m too pissed off to go to Art, so I hide away in the Library again, which is where I stay right through lunch. I should really just go home. It’s pointless me being here. I can’t concentrate in class. My ex-friends are out to crush me, and the boys are suffocating me. I don’t go home, though. Home is lonely. Home doesn’t feel like home because my heart still thinks my home is Ayden.

It’s not even halfway through lunch when my phone blows up with messages again from the boys. The messages start out as simple questions asking where I am and if I need one of the boys to come to me. By the end of lunch, Marcus declares that he’s coming to check the Library, so I flee like a bat out of hell to the girl's toilets. I’m a coward, I know. I should just face the boys and ask them to take it easy with their possessive behaviour, but I also don’t want to push them away because they really are all I have. I just need some space right now.

As if my day hasn’t already been a shit show of cluster fucks, the moment I fly through the door of the girl’s bathroom, I come face to face with Tasha and her gang of merry bitches. Fucking perfect!

“Well, well. If it isn’t the fallen queen.” Tasha slides a cruel, smirk on her average-looking face and crosses her arms across her chest. I know that move. She’s been doing it ever since we grew boobs, and hers didn’t compare. She uses her arms to push what little cleavage she has together, trying and failing to look like she is more endowed. When is she ever going to realise that no one cares about her ugly tits?

I don’t know why she is referring to me as the fallen queen. I was never the queen, nor do I ever want to be. While there are cliques and social groups within our school, we’ve never had a hierarchy amongst the students at Fox Pines Catholic College. Tasha may think she is living