Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“What?” Julian laughs in disbelief. “Leave it? Are you kidding me?”
“We’ve both got secrets. I’ve ignored certain things. Perhaps you ought to do the same.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
Damian lets out a husky sigh and leans against the wall, staring at Julian with a calculating look on his face.
Julian turns me, making me feel spotlit in the worst way. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need the truth.”
“The truth,” I repeat.
“Yes, the truth. I know I lied. I know I fucked up. But I came here expecting a fight, and I got this weird Stepford Sister shit instead. And now the nickname… Is something happening between you two?”
I look down at the table, unable to lie to his face, unable to even form the simple syllable of no.
“What the fuck,” Julian mutters. “When?” A pause, then he snaps louder, “When?”
Tears sting my eyes. How is this my new reality?
“Since before you moved in here?” Julian demands.
“No!” I exclaim. “It’s just since I started coming by here. We didn’t plan it, Julian. We just—”
Julian roars and throws himself at Damian. Before this moment, it was difficult to imagine my neat and well-mannered big brother as a mafia enforcer or a mafia anything, but now, I see it. The rage pushing through his calm demeanor.
Julian throws a punch at Damian. Damian doesn’t even try to block it. He keeps his hands in his pockets, taking it across the jaw.
“Motherfucker!” Julian roars, aiming another punch, but then stopping when he sees Damian is just staring, waiting, like he wants it, like he thinks he deserves it. “Fight back!”
“No,” he growls. “Hit me. Do it.”
Julian prods him in the chest. “You fucked my little sister.”
“And you were involved in the hit on me, Julian. Neither of us is perfect.”
Julian laughs nervously, shaking his head. “Where’d you get that from?”
“You lied to me about what Rico said to Celine. He said that without a body, it was difficult to be sure I was dead. That was a message for you. There’d be no reason for the Family to send you that message unless you knew. Unless you were in on it.”
Julian shakes his head, but I know my brother. That’s why I always sensed there was something else going on, why I stubbornly stuck my head in the sand for so long.
“My guess is they threatened or paid you. You agreed. But at the last minute, you changed your mind. That was why after I dispatched those two pricks, you were there so fast. It wasn’t a coincidence, you being close by. You were supposed to pull the trigger.”
Julian groans, rubbing his hands up and down his face. “I risked my life to save you,” he snaps, letting his hands drop. “I risked the Family finding out. I risked everything… and this, this is how you repay me.”
“You could’ve tipped me off. You could’ve saved me from this.” Damian gestures to his scar. “You could’ve…” His tone becomes brutal. “Get the fuck out of my house. Now.”
Something in Julian shifts. He takes a step back like he’s just seen his death flash before his eyes, like he thinks Damian is going to fight back and doesn’t think he’s got much chance.
Damian pushes away from the wall and raises his voice. “Go!”
Julian turns to me. “We’re leaving.”
“I’m not—”
“We’re leaving,” he cuts in. “This isn’t a discussion. I’m not leaving you here with him so you can betray me whenever you feel like it.”
“Go with him,” Damian says.
I try to hide the hurt, but I can’t bury it completely. You don’t want me anymore? I swallow the words.
“He’s right,” Damian goes on. “If you stay…”
He looks at me without needing to finish the sentence. I don’t have to ask what he was going to say. His scarred face is a battlefield of desire and regret… with hunger beneath it, despite everything.
“If you’re sure,” I murmur.
“I’m sure,” Julian snaps, either thinking I’m talking to him or pretending to. “Nothing is going to be the same ever again. You know that, right?”
“You should’ve taken the cash and put a bullet in me,” Damian growls.
“What’s that–a threat?”
“Just what I wish you did. I had my suspicions, Julian, but learning this about you… I feel dead already.”
Julian grabs my hand and drags me toward the door.
“My clothes–my things—”
He ignores me, dragging me through the house.
CHAPTER 20
DAMIAN
Ipark down the street from the gambling recovery center, the December dark creeping in early. Some Christmas carol singers walk by on the sidewalk. A whole group of them with Santa hats on, laughing, letting a few notes peel into the late afternoon as they disappear around a snowy corner.
The Family has set up guards around the center. People designed not to look like guards, dog walkers who linger too long, a man working on a car that was there the last time I swung by, before the attack.