Brenda Hampton own all of Secret Life of the American Teenager except for my characters. (Joseph, Michael, etc.)

AN* Thank you everyone for helping me reach 100 reviews that makes me feel really good. This is my first story with that many so I'm really happy. Love you all continue to read my stories and review them if possible!

*Two Weeks Later*

Amy's PoV

It's been two weeks since I've even looked his way. Truth is, I was so caught up in trying to understand what my life really was, who I really was. Everything that I'd lived was a lie, my parents had kept all these secrets from me. Did Ashley know? Usually, she was the one that my dad told everything to, did he tell her this also? Why was I left in the dark?

Someone I just met not even six months ago knew more about my life than I did. He could've lied or told me to ask my mother, but he hadn't. Ricky had been so honest with me. Yet, I was angry with him. Of course there was really no legitimate reason, just because I could be. It was the only way that I could handle and process all of this information. I wasn't going to cry about it, there was no point in that either, all I could do was live with it.

What could I possibly change now? I mean, my dad was pretty much in the mafia until the day he died, literally. How the hell did I miss something that big? Although, Ricky did say that for a while, he'd cut ties with all of it, but couldn't stay away long. He didn't tell me the reason for him going back. In fact, there were still countless holes in the story.

Ricky, seemed to be off his rocker for a moment when he realized George was my dad. Just like I was when he slammed the mafia tale on me. I hadn't really believed him when he started telling me all the details. How could I have? It seemed so farfetched.

Our day had started off okay until that moment. I wouldn't have even asked about the brutal beating on Michael, until Michael talked about my dad. I would've forgotten about the whole situation, but now everything was starting to click. All the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

The days when my dad would leave the room when a phone call came. He would go out of town on business trips. I thought it was odd even before I was told all of this. How much business did you really have to do with a furniture store? Damn I was naïve. George Jurgens, my father, was in the mafia. The fuckin' mafia. Who would've thought a boring man such as my father was involved in organized crime? That proves that you don't really know people until you know them.

I was looking into a whole new perspective now. All of this could explain his death, our moving, my issues. What else had I missed?

"Miss Jurgens are you here for your session?" Caitlyn asked from behind her desk. I hadn't realized that I'd stopped by her door. I'd been doing so well avoiding these sessions, of course today, I would accidentally step into the pit. She glanced at the clock on the wall and looked back at me with a warm smile. "Oh and right on time, come on in, have a seat, we have a lot to discuss," I raised an eyebrow at her before walking into the room slowly.

I slung my purse on the floor and plopped down on the new shiny, leather sofa in her office. As much as this felt like therapy, therapy, it definitely would never be, no matter how much she tried. It was nice that she was trying to help, you know, the thought that counts, all that jazz.

"What could we possibly have to discuss? We never discuss anything," I said lying down on the couch, closing my eyes. How cliché of me.

"Sure we do, we discuss your feelings. How are those coming by the way?" She asked smoothly. I opened one eye to look at her, then closed it back and sighed.

"Well, I've established that I don't have any," I stated honestly. My "homework" as she called it, was to go home and sort through what my real feelings are, but that was last week and this was the first time I'd been here for days. I wished she would've forgotten about that, or at least scold me for not coming. I hated talking about feelings, they always led to horrific tragedies and tribulations.

"Amy," She protested lightly. I heard her shuffling around papers, then she made a noise of approval. "You're being ridiculous, everyone has feelings. I called your old counselor from your school in Texas, she had wonderful things to say about you," That made me stiffen. I sat up quickly, opening my eyes to actually look at her. Caitlyn's finger twitched on the manila folder she was preparing to open. She never held my gaze.

"You're lying," I stated confidently leaning on my elbows. She peeked over the folder to look at me. I smirked. "You're trying to distract yourself so you can't look at me and since our sessions, I've noticed that you have a nervous twitch when you say things you don't mean," She gave me an odd look. Her fingers stilled on the folder and she put it down.

"How did you know that?" She asked curiously, never denying my words. I leaned back on the couch, crossing my legs over one another. I pushed my fingers through my hair.

"You just told me, on top of that though, you gotta notice the little things Mrs. O'Malley," she stared at me in amazement. "And that lady never liked me, but I appreciate the effort," I shrugged and sighed. Caitlyn smiled evenly, picking the folder back up and looking through it again.

"You're good Miss Jurgens, I'll have to watch out for you. You read people very well, it took me years to learn how to do that," She stated looking up at me only for a moment. I was getting annoyed at how she wasn't paying attention to me.

"It comes with experience, I'm a born liar and a master manipulator, I'm good at understanding different people," Caitlyn didn't look up at me.

"Reading people and understanding people are two different things, and usually people aren't good at both. So which is it, are you good at reading or understanding?" She asked putting the folder down and picking up another one, not paying attention to me once again.

"Are you just going to talk at me today or are you going to put the folders down and talk to me? I'm the focus of this thirty minutes so make it count. This isn't your off period," I stated more madly than I thought I ever could be with her. She was always so nice to me and I'd snapped on her. However, she didn't seem fazed by the mishap.

"I am talking to you, but you're more focused on me not actually looking at you, than you are at hearing what I'm saying to you. Just because I'm not looking at you doesn't mean I'm not paying attention," she said calmly.

"I didn't say that, I would just like for you to look at me when I'm talking, it reassures me that you're listening to what I have to say," I picked at the invisible lent on the sofa. Caitlyn looked back down before I could finish my sentence. I froze for a minute, then put my feet on the floor.

"I am," she said looking at the computer screen and clicking randomly, seeming to be very intent on whatever she was doing. What was her damn problem today?

"HEY," I blared loudly. "Pay attention to me," I stood up and pointed to myself, yelling. Caitlyn snapped out of her trance, then looked up at the clock.

"It took you all of ten minutes to lose your temper, you're improving, but at least now we know your other problem," she said still smiling, finally putting her eyes on mine. I was confused, so this was a test?

"Excuse me?" I asked sitting back down on the sofa. "What other problem? I have a lot of those so you're going to have to specify," I stated scratching my forehead. There was no use in asking about her little experiment, she would never give me an exact answer, she was odd like that. She liked for me to be out of things such as this.

"You don't like when people aren't paying attention to you Amy, don't you see a problem in that?" She asked incredulously.

"Well no, everyone likes attention and I'm not craving it, but when I'm talking I expect you to listen," I said evenly.

"I think you crave it more than you think," she said pointedly.

"Since when did you become a psychiatrist?" I asked under my breath. She chuckled lightly before leaning over the desk on her elbows.

"Since I graduated from Harvard University," she stated pointing to her degree on the wall. So Mrs. O'Malley was Dr. O'Malley? Who would of thought? "But this is about you not me, so, let's get into this attention issue,"

"It's not an issue so don't make it one," I said without looking at her.

"You're lying," she stated boldly.

"How do you know that?" I asked stupidly, falling into my own trap.

"Because you didn't deny it and you won't look at me. I pick up on the little things to Miss Jurgens," I chuckled, looking at her slowly. Today was going to be fun.

Ben's PoV

I didn't have the heart to hurt Nora and I've been suffering the consequences for days now. My dad wouldn't even look at me, he hadn't sent me out to do jobs, but honestly, I didn't mind. I liked being looked over, the things he made me do, they made me feel guilty and dirty after I finished, sometimes even before.

I was all gung-ho about it a long time ago, hell, not even four months ago, but it gets old fast. After the Marshall ordeal, it was hell. I had nightmares about that shit. My dad was delivering hit after hit, there was no reason, he just wanted to rise to power, like Joseph, minus prison. Once, my dad was at the top, but after the incident with George, everybody switched rolls. My dad got the brunt of it all. He wasn't a decision maker in all the organizations problems.

He wanted to use me, but what would happen if the men and women that I went after unmasked me or shot me first. All it would take was one time and I would be on the blacklist or better yet, the hit list. Would my father give himself up in my place? If he did or not, I would probably still wind up dead. I would always come up with the short end of the stick from this point on, but if I had to go down, I wasn't planning on going down on my own. The question is, who will I take with me?

Ricky's PoV

I sat at the table, face to face with my dad. The guilt of my latest confession was eating me alive, from the inside out. I had to tell somebody and he was the first person I thought of at the time. It was a spur of the moment decision that I probably should have thought about a little better.

Joseph stared at me expectantly. It had been a while since I'd spoken to him. I left all of that to my mother, I'd told him that I wouldn't be back, yet here I was. He no longer had a smug look, but there was still a bit of arrogance staining his demeanor, I don't think that would ever go away. The orange jumpsuit didn't make a difference to him, he was still running things, even from here.

"I thing I screwed up," I stated bluntly. Joseph raised an eyebrow as I fiddled my thumbs around one another.

"How so?" He asked putting his hand over his mouth and rubbing down his face. Usually when I say I screwed up, he isn't so calm, but it's not often that I do screw up.

"Graces new friend Amy, I told her about the mafia," I looked at him expectantly. He shrugged his shoulders.

"So, I'm sure she's heard of it before, it's nothing new Ricky. She lives in our town she would probably find out anyway," He shifted his eyes to the guard at the door.

"Yeah, but that's not it," I paused not sure if this was a good idea anymore, but I couldn't back out now. He wouldn't let me back out. I'd started, now I had to finish.

"Ricky what did you tell her?" He asked angrily, putting his hands flat on the metal table.

"I'd rather not say with the guard standing over my back," Joseph looked away from he rolling his eyes. He looked up at the guard behind me and I saw his eyes shift to the left quickly. The door opened and closed behind me. How could they allow him so much power? How could they not know how dangerous that was?

"What did you tell her?" He asked again, more demandingly this time.

"A few thing about George. He was her dad, she's a Jurgens," Joseph slammed his hands down on the table. "I didn't tell her we killed him, nothing like that, I just told her that he was apart of the family, not ours, just the family," I spat out quickly, trying to get it over it.

"Damn it Ricky!" He shouted slamming his palms on the table. "You told her that? What if she digs?" Well this escalated quickly. I didn't really expect all this, well, scratch that, I expected worse.

"She's not going to. I left holes in the story," I said defending myself. Which wasn't a well put together defense might I add.

"You don't know that Ricky," he said annoyed. We sat in a tense silence for awhile. I stared at him as he stared at the walls. His attentions snapped back to me quickly. "I want her gone, get rid of her," he said with no remorse. I froze in place.

"Get rid of her?" I asked.

"Yes Ricky, you told her, so now I want her gone, before she gets me and you a death sentence," my heart skipped dreadfully out of rhythm. I couldn't kill Amy just because of some story that I'm not even sure she believed all of. She doubted most of it the whole time I was telling her.

"Are you crazy? I will not kill her. She hasn't done anything. I already told you I fixed the story, she won't say shit," I stated angrily. Joseph was taken aback by my sudden backbone towards him.

"And I want to make sure of that. She better be gone by the time I get out off this damn place Ricky," I stood up from my chair quickly and leaned on the table with my fists, looking him in the eyes.

"I'm not going to kill her, and I won't let you kill her either so you're going to have to come up with another plan because that's just not going to work," There was an unbreakable stare down. It was like staring into the eyes of a demon, better yet, the devil himself. He was adamant on his decision about Amy, but I was more adamant on keeping her breathing. Joseph broke the stare, leaning back in his chair with his head behind his hands.

"Careful Ricky, your care for this girl could be your downfall. A lot of people didn't care about George, which made them not care about his family in default, don't put yourself in that position," I stood up straight, before turning to storm out of the room. I was really beginning to see a new side of Joseph. Was this what people outside his family, his real family, saw when they stared him into his eyes? How could I have missed this? Maybe because I was to busy admiring him, trying to be like him. I had never been afraid of becoming him until this moment, but I couldn't held but wonder, if I looked in the mirror one day, would I see him?

WOOHOO I've updated! Review everyone, I would really love if you did. Tell me what you think? If Ben goes, who's he going to take? Remember he's not the Ben we're used to seeing in secret life, he's more ruthless than you think.