Page 147 of Beautiful Lies

“Baby, that’s horse shit.” He shakes his head at me. “A load of it.”

“I believe it’s true.” Heat creeps into my cheeks at the admission, and I force a small, awkward grin. “All kinds of terrible things have happened to me.”

“Terrible things happen to people all the time.” A shadow passes through his eyes, protective and pissed. “That woman was just a bitch making up shit to scare off kids.”

“Well, it worked. It’s terrified me since.”

“Some people thrive off terrifying others.” His gaze turns razor-sharp.

“I’ll bet no one everterrifiedyou, Monster.” I laugh lightly, unable to imagine anything that could scare him. Knox Vale is an unyielding force to reckon with.

But his smile dies, and something uneasy slips into his eyes, turning them distant and hollow in a way I’ve never seen before.

“You think nothing scares me?” His voice quiets, the previous playfulness evaporating.

“I… can’t imagine it.”

He exhales a slow, heavy breath. “You’d be surprised what can terrify a person when the right monster raises them.”

My heart stumbles. “What… do you mean?” Instantly, my mind jumps to his father. He seemed nice to me, but I know he’s strict. It wouldn’t be surprising if he pushed Knox, even hurt him. “Was it… your father? Was he the monster?”

Knox lets out a humorless laugh. “I almost wish it was. That would make more sense.” He shakes his head. “But no. It wasn’t him.”

“Then who?”

“My mother.”

“Your mother?” The words barely form.

“Yes.” His voice drops lower. “Her. You noticed she wasn’t at the wedding? Or anywhere?”

“I noticed,” I admit softly. “I just didn’t want to pry.”

“My mother is a well-kept secret,” he explains, jaw ticking. “But I guess it would be weird if I didn’t tell you what happened to her. Very few people know the truth. And when I say very few, I mean Sheila and one or two other people outside my immediate family.”

“We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to.”

“I should tell you,” he answers, eyes lifting to mine. “If we’re doing this… getting-to-know-each-other thing.”

“My lips are sealed,” I whisper. “Whatever you share stays with me.”

“I know.”

He releases my hand and walks toward the old oak tree. I follow, stopping in front of him as he leans back against the trunk, crossing his arms like the weight of the memory is too heavy to hold himself upright.

“She never wanted kids with my father,” he begins quietly. “But she loved his money. Loved it more than she loved us. Especially me.”

I swallow, dread pooling low in my stomach.

“When he wasn’t around, she’d beat the shit out of us. Mostlyme.”

My hand flies to my heart. “Beat you?” My voice cracks. “But you were just… you were all just children.”

“That didn’t matter to her. She got to me most because I was the eldest.” His eyes are fixed on some point behind me. “I took all the punishment for my brothers because I didn’t want her to hurt them. I thought if I took it, she’d leave them alone.”

My chest aches. “Knox…” I can’t imagine that such a thing happened in a family like theirs. “Did you ever tell your father?”

“Not at first. She’d threaten me with everything she could imagine. And I believed her. I was a kid, terrified and trying to survive.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “But eventually, things got out of hand. My father started noticing bruises I couldn’t explain away. He stopped believing I got them playing football or falling over. Especially during breaks when I wasn’t even playing.”