Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

"What Evan said is true. And it's about time someone in this house told the truth. I kind of expected the roof to fucking cave in."

"Watch your goddamn mouth!" Mr. Youngblood sputters. "I had a feeling this whole thing was a bad idea. I had a feeling letting you get tangled up with an outsider would bring us trouble, and now here it is." His glare focuses on me, vicious and hard, before it settles back on Winch like a blood-curdling dare. "I'm gonna remind you of something. Family is forever, Winchester. You were born a Youngblood and you'll die a Youngblood. Whether or not this trash stays with you--"

Winch rushes past me and throws over a chair lunging at his father. I grab him behind one elbow, and Benelli jumps up and grabs his other. Colt half-stands, but gets pushed back by Remy, who smacks the flat of his hand on the table. Mrs. Youngblood and Ithaca jump at the sound, and everyone turns to watch Remy sway and try to collect his words.

"She's good people, Pop." He turns his bleary eyes to me. "She's...you can't do this to Winch. Can't. Cannot."

He's clearly drunk and about to be dismissed by their father.

"Remington, sit the hell down before you pass out. This isn't about your brother's love life. This is about our family and your daughter. One wrong move could cost us everything."

He directs his attention back to Winch, who's breathing heavily, but keeping it all together. Barely.

"He'll go to jail," Remy argues. "He'll do hard time. Kidnapping. That's what they'll slap him with." He sits on the chair with a hard thump and goes a little green. "I need to go to court."

"This isn't a joke, Remington!" Mr. Youngblood's patience is extinguished. "You understand? Look at yourself! You're half a man at best. You won't be able to stay sober for court, and you sure as hell won't make it in jail. Winchester is smart, capable. He's a survivor. He can do this."

"I can do this," Remy says, his voice low and so forlorn it borders heavily on pathetic.

"You can shut the hell up while I run this family!" their father bellows, his lips curled back and his eyes strained dangerously out of their sockets. "This family runs because I run it! I make decisions and you all follow my lead. The last goddamn thing we need is your stupid ass jumping in and ruining things more than they've already been ruined."

"He needs help!" Ithaca's voice cuts through the swirling rage of her father's words.

"Ithaca. Sit down." Mrs. Youngblood's lips go tight and her eyes squint nervously.

"No!" Tears are running down her face, spilling onto the tablecloth, and she's wiping them away with the backs of her hand as fast as they come. "No! Everyone in this family just follows whatever Pop says. Well, Remy is really sick. Winch is in love, but he can't be with Evan. Colt wants to play football. I want to be with Andre. But no one gets what they want in this family except Pop, and it's not right!"

Benelli moves away from Winch's side to comfort her sister, but Ithaca throws herself out of her reach.

"Don't! You gave up on what you wanted so you could be the perfect daughter. I'm not like you. I can't just forget the person I love because someone tells me to. Don't you see that being perfect in this family just makes you the most fucked-up of all?"

The room erupts into a series of screams and shouts and threats as Ithaca storms away.

In the midst of it all, Remy slides out of his chair, teeth chattering, and smacks his head on the side of the table before collapsing on the floor, a slow, seeping pool of bright blood gushing from the gash at his temple and puddling around the table leg.

"Remy!" Winch's scream rises above all the chaos, and he's at his brother's side in a second.

I grab my phone, poised to dial 911 when Mr. Youngblood snatches it out of my hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelp, trying to snatch the phone back.

He holds my phone over his head, making me jump like some little kid being bullied on the playground until I realize how ridiculous I look and stop hopping around.

"911? Are you crazy? No authorities. No hospital. They'll do a tox screen, and he'll be in big trouble." He tucks my phone in his pocket and puts his hands on his sobbing wife's shoulders. "Calm down, all of you. Jazmin, go get clean towels and the bandages. Winch, lay him down so his head is tilted back. Benelli, call Campart."

"Campart? The vet?" she asks, her eyebrows knit.

"Or Fillamin." Their father's voice is distracted as he squats low near Remy's shaking, convulsing form.

Winch is smoothing the hair back off Remy’s forehead, looking at his brother’s contorted face. Remy’s eyes are wild and his mouth is open like he's about to wail at any second, even though no sound is coming out at all.

"Fillamin isn't even done with RN school." Benelli bites her lips and looks at me.

I give her a full-on glare, laced with disgust.

I thought this family was insane with all its lies and secrets and cover-ups. But that was before I watched them do anything at all to avoid the one thing that would save one of their own. Now, I'm positive they're criminally insane, and I know for certain that if Winch goes back to them after this, there won't even be a minute's consideration.

He and I will be unequivocally done.

"Just call one of them," Mr. Youngblood snaps, grabbing a towel out of his wife's hands and putting pressure on the gash on the side of Remy's temple that's still gushing blood all over the floor.

Benelli looks at me across the dining room, and I shake my head. "I would call 911, but your father took my phone," I say. "But, I'm not the kind of person who'd stand around