by Ella Frank
“You know what I mean,” Robbie said.
“Do I?”
“Um, yeah. When you two are in a room, I can barely find my tongue to speak. A.k.a: stupid for the both of you.”
Julien reached over the console and placed a hand on Robbie’s thigh, deciding this conversation was just the kind of diversion he could do with.
“Don’t worry yourself, princesse. When you’re in a room with us, we’ll always be happy to help you locate your tongue.”
Robbie chuckled and put a hand over Julien’s to slide it higher up his leg. “Promise?”
“Promis.”
“Robert,” Priest said, and Robbie shivered at the sound of his name. “Give Julien his hand back. He needs to concentrate on driving, not your hot little body.”
“Ugh, you’re such a spoilsport,” Robbie said. “In here, on the plane, but I am thrilled that you think I have a hot little body. That’s practically a declaration of love coming from you.”
As the word love left his lips, Robbie’s eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth in mortification, and Julien started to laugh—loudly.
When Priest joined in and sat back in his seat, Robbie ran a hand through his hair and then blew out a breath. “Okay, you two,” he said. “If you’re both done laughing at me and my loose lips, can we please move along? And since you took my fun away, Joel, tell me—have you ever met anyone famous?”
“Depends,” Priest said. “What level of fame are we talking here? Because if you’ll recall, I’m married to, and you’re involved with, someone quite famous.”
Julien shook his head as he aimed his eyes in the mirror at Priest.
“Oh, I never forget that,” Robbie said, and waggled his eyebrows. “But okay, let’s say movie star. Have you ever met a real-life movie star?”
“I have, actually. One of the biggest in the business.” When Priest didn’t elaborate, Robbie spun on him, his embarrassment from a minute ago clearly a thing of the past.
“Who? Who have you met? You can’t leave it at that. Do I know them? Have I heard of them? Male or female?”
“Are you going to take a breath anytime soon or should I just wait until you run out of steam?”
Robbie clamped his lips shut but glared at Priest to let him know he wasn’t happy about it.
“Ace Locke.”
The name didn’t require any further explanation. Ace Locke was one of Hollywood’s biggest movie stars.
Julien cut a quick glance in Robbie’s direction, and saw him looking completely and utterly flummoxed. “Are you okay, princesse?”
Robbie blinked a couple of times, and then managed, “Did he just say Ace Locke?”
“Oui, he did.”
Robbie seemed to regain control over his brain function then, as his eyes flew back to Priest. “Shut your face.”
“Impressed?” Priest said.
“Im…impressed? Ace Locke is, like…” While Robbie sputtered trying to find his words, Priest provided him with a few.
“One of the biggest movie stars of our generation? Not to mention openly gay and married to—”
“Dylan Prescott,” Robbie cut in. “Hello. Smoking-hot male model marries Hollywood superstar. Do you really think I don’t know who these two are? Come on, don’t you know me at all? I followed their wedding plans from the announcement to the ‘I dos.’ Holy fuck. My mind is totally blown right now. Totally. Blown. How do you even know him?” Robbie paused, and then looked between them. “Oh my God, you two didn’t sleep with Ace Locke, did you?” When Priest didn’t immediately answer, Robbie demanded in a much higher octave, “Did you?”
“No,” Priest said, and couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “He’s not exactly our type.”
Robbie seemed to think that over. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense, but…but how, then? This is insanity.”
Priest shrugged, but the smirk on his lips told Julien that he was enjoying this detour from the more serious topics just as much as he was.
“I know him through Logan.”
“Wait…Logan knows Ace fucking Locke and never told me?”
“I have to say,” Priest said drolly, “I’m not overly disappointed about that, considering your reaction right now.”
As Priest’s words penetrated Robbie’s excitement, a mischievous smile slid over his lips and he preened a little. “We-he-ell, would you look at that. If I didn’t know better, I might think you were jealous, Mr. Priestley.”
Julien took the exit they needed and said, “I’d say you know him very well, princesse. He’s jealous.”
“Really?” Robbie said, and ran his eyes over the jeans and black button-up Priest was wearing. “That’s super hot.”
“Why do I feel like that pleases you a little too much?” Priest said.
“Because it does. You’re totally jealous,” Robbie said, then grinned like the devil himself. “Is it the thought of Ace throwing me up against a wall that annoys you, or—”
“Robert,” Priest growled, and Robbie let out a pleased laugh.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, I got a little off track. Where was I? Oh, I remember, how does Logan know Ace Locke? Not that I’m surprised. I swear to God he slept with everyone before he settled down with Tate.”
“Through school, I believe,” Priest said. “Or college? I can’t remember, and right now I really don’t care.”
“Geez, a little testy, aren’t we?” Robbie said, and slumped back in his seat. “Well, either way, I’m officially impressed.”
“Good, because I’m officially ending this conversation. Your excitement is making me feel—”
“Inadequate?” Robbie said.
“‘Irritated’ was more the word I had in mind,” Priest said, as Julien finally turned up his parents’ street and drove past several of the mansions that sat along Bel Air Road. “Now why don’t you turn around and enjoy your current view.”
Robbie rolled his eyes, and then turned just as Julien pulled the SUV into his parents’ driveway.
“We’re here,” Julien said, as he wound down his window and punched in the code to the iron gates. As they yawned open, Julien felt like a chasm as wide as the Grand Canyon had appeared before him, as he inched the car forward into the courtyard.
Robbie peered out the windshield at the enormous house that was lit up in front of them, and then he muttered, “Holy shit.”
Julien drew the car to a stop and stared at the stone steps that led up to the double glass doors that were the back entrance, and his stomach tightened just as his hands did around the steering wheel.
For a few minutes on the way out there, he’d forgotten why they were all back in L.A. But as he sat there now, with the engine cut, and silence the only thing in the car, it all came roaring back.
Priest’s hand on his shoulder made Julien jolt in his seat.
“You ready?”
Julien looked at him in the rearview mirror and said, “No.” Then he felt Robbie’s fingers wrap around his and squeeze. “But I want it over with.”
Priest gave a clipped nod. “Princess?”
“Yes?” Robbie answered, his face now a mask of seriousness, his understanding of the mood in the car a testament to their burgeoning relationship.
“No matter what happens tonight with his parents, no matter what is said, remember that you’re here because Julien asked you to come. He wants you here. He wants you to understand this part of him. Okay?”
Julien knew what Priest was doing. He was warning Robbie. He was trying to prepare him for what was about to come. It was something Julien should’ve been doing himself, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice.
“Okay,” Robbie said. “I understand.”
Julien swallowed, wishing that were true. But really, there was no way to prepare someone for the disgust one’s parents had for a son who had killed their only daughter.
Chapter Eighteen
CONFESSION
You’re everywhere.
But nowhere at all.
/>
“COME ON. LET’S go,” Jacquelyn said as she pushed through the back doors of the house and headed inside.
“You better go with her,” their mom said to Julien, as Jacquelyn charged off ahead. “Make sure she stays out of trouble.”
“As if that’s possible.”
“You’re right,” she said with a laugh. “But at least with you I know she’s safe, mon cher petit. And in a new country, that will ease me and your dad.”
Julien grinned and headed off after Jacquelyn, who had just disappeared down a corridor to the left, her dark hair the only thing he caught as she ran off in search of her new bedroom.
As he followed behind, Julien’s eyes swept over the huge room directly off to his right, which appeared to be a living room of sorts, but then he continued on, figuring he’d come back to that after he claimed a room of his own.
He rounded the corner he’d seen Jacquelyn run down, and when all he saw was an empty corridor, he called out, “Jacquelyn? Where’d you run off to, petite poulette?”
When all he got in response was silence, Julien sighed and headed down the hall. He looked into several empty rooms on either side, and when he finally reached the end of the long walkway, he spotted her inside the final room up on the right.
She’d pushed open a set of French doors and was standing outside on a large balcony that overlooked a pool and the reservoir their mom had told them about. The afternoon sun was just now beginning to set, and as Julien stepped outside onto the balcony, Jacquelyn turned to face him with a brilliant smile.
“Whatever fantasies you’re having about Romeo and Romeo, Julien Thornton, you stop right now. I saw this room first.”
Julien rolled his eyes and walked over to where she stood, and as they leaned down and rested their arms on the stone handrail, he said, “Do you think you’ll like it here?”
“In this house? Umm, have you seen it?”
“Non, not the house. America? Abruti. L.A.?”
Jacquelyn looked out ahead of them and shrugged. “I guess. I mean, it’s totally different to France.”
“Oui, it is,” Julien said. “It’s very…I don’t know, loud? I didn’t think I’d miss the old house as much as I do.”
“Well, you always liked it there—the villa too, since it was more secluded and you could hide away. I keep telling you, you need to get out more, stop being so shy. Live a little.” Jacquelyn bumped her arm up against his, and then said in a soft voice, “This is L.A., Jules, not some backward-thinking town out in the country. No one is going to care that you like boys as much as I do. In fact, I’ll probably be fighting you for them.”
Julien gave her a shut up look and shook his head, making her laugh. But then she sobered and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.
“I’m serious,” she said, and laid her head on his shoulder. “Loosen up a little. Stop worrying about me and have fun your senior year. They’re all going to love you as much as I do. Je te le promets.”
But worrying was part of his DNA. Jacquelyn was born the wild child. She was easygoing and carefree, the life of every party she went to. She had zero inhibitions and was always up for a good time. Whereas their mom always joked that Julien was the nurturer, the protector, because he came out of the womb first. Quieter in nature but always ready to fight against the world to protect himself and all those around him.
The downside to that, though, was the stress that came with the worry.
“I mean it, Jules,” Jacquelyn said as she straightened up. “We’re going to have the best senior year ever, and then we’re going to kick college’s ass. You’ll become a famous chef and I’ll become”—she pursed her lips as though thinking it over, and then grinned like the devil himself—“a world-class, famous chef.”
That finally got Julien to laugh. “Oh, so you think you’ll be better than me, do you?”
“There’s no thinking about it,” she said as she walked backward toward the French doors. “You know it and so do I. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Julien scoffed and followed her inside. “Careful, petite poulette. It’s going to hurt sooo much more when I turn out better than you.”
“Whatever,” she said with a shrug. “But neither of us are going to turn out any way if we don’t find the kitchen in this place. Want to go look?”
“What about your library? I thought you’d be dying to find that next.”
“We’ll find that after. I mean, we’ve all got to eat, right?”
Julien nodded, and as they set off to find the kitchen, he decided he would make a conscious effort to do exactly what she had said. He would enjoy his senior year and not worry as much. He would adapt to this new lifestyle and embrace the culture surrounding him.
And embrace it he did. So did she over the next few years.
A little too well, some would say…
JULIEN STOOD IN the hallway he’d once walked down in search of his sister and stared at the empty tunnel that now greeted him. Not a sound could be heard inside the house, and as he made himself move, he found that was all he could do.
He supposed he should probably call out, announce his unwelcome presence to those he knew would be somewhere inside. But as he got further down the hall, all he could manage was putting one foot in front of the other.
Not much had changed over the years up there in the mansion. The walls were the same color, a cream that complemented the Tuscan villa feel, even if the house itself resembled nothing of the quaint homes that populated the Italian countryside.
The furniture was exactly as he remembered it. A long table ran down the hallway and held several mementos that his parents had collected over the years in their travels, and then off to the right, a gorgeous Louis XV-style settee and sofa sat facing the picturesque view of the Stone Canyon Reservoir, which right now had lights from other homes twinkling all around it.
It was so quiet up there tonight, and as Julien continued down to the kitchen, he realized it was…too quiet.
He headed through the maze of hallways in the direction of the place he was always drawn to, and when he reached it and stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was how immaculate it was, as though no one had set foot in it for days.
Non, Julien thought, as he went over to the fridge and opened it to find it empty. Not days, months. No one had been there in…months.
Julien’s hand tightened around the handle and he slowly shut the door and stared at the stainless steel that was so clean he could see a blurred reflection of himself in it.
They aren’t here, he thought, as he let go of the door and stumbled back into the island behind him. They aren’t fucking here.
As the cold, hard reality of that slammed into him, Julien brought a hand up and pressed the heel of it to his chest as it tightened.
Fuck. How could they do this? How could his parents not be there?
Without a word? Without warning?
They’d known he would be coming back. He always came back, even when they told him not to. Oui, and this time they made sure they wouldn’t have to see you.
As that thought echoed around his skull, Julien pressed his fingers to his forehead as though he could reach inside it and rip it free. But it was no use, it was in there on a loop that was determined to drum the truth—no matter how ugly it was—into his head.
They wouldn’t have to see you…
Wouldn’t have to acknowledge that you exist.
Julien brought his hand down to his mouth and covered it as he ran to the sink, nausea twisting at his gut, the pain inside him now wanting to expel itself from his body the fastest route possible. But with the way he’d been feeling lately, Julien had thought it best not to eat before he got on the plane, so there was nothing in there to get rid of.
Well, it was time to rectify that, wasn’t it?
His parents might’ve cleaned out the fridge, but he knew one place they would’ve left as is, a place they never stepped inside of anymore, and on wobbly legs Ju
lien managed to leave what was once his favorite room and go in search of the one he hated the most, the room that had the only cure to this kind of pain—a lot of fucking alcohol.
“UMM, PRIEST?” ROBBIE said, as he came around the back of the car, and when Priest looked over at him, he noticed Robbie’s eyes fixated on the looming home in front of them.
“Yes?”
“I, ah… I don’t know how to act in a house like that.”
Priest popped the trunk and reached for Robbie’s bag, and once he’d handed it to him, he lifted his and Julien’s out and shut it. “Neither do the people who live in it, so you’ll be in good company.”
“I’m serious,” Robbie said, as he aimed his eyes back to the doors Julien had just disappeared inside of. “I know this might come as a shock to you, considering how exceptionally put together I am, but I come from very humble beginnings.”
Priest hadn’t thought it was possible for him to feel anything other than stressed about what they were about to do. But he found himself grinning at the earnest expression on Robbie’s face. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” Robbie said, and then smacked Priest on the arm. “Stop laughing at me.”
Priest stepped forward until he had Robbie backed up against the SUV. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“You were so. I saw your mouth actually curve.”
“Watching my mouth, were you?”
“Maybe?”
Priest leaned in and said by Robbie’s ear, “You have nothing to worry about in there. But if you keep looking at my mouth, you might have something to worry about out here.”
As Priest straightened, Robbie reached down and pressed the heel of his hand over the zipper of his tight jeans. “That was mean.”
“No, that was a way to stop you from having a meltdown.”
Robbie’s hand halted in place, and one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. “I don’t have meltdowns.”
“Yes, you do,” Priest said as he picked up the bags. “Spectacular ones. As for how to behave in there? Just be yourself. Trust me, I’ve known Julien’s parents for years, and not once have they ever shown that they are aware of what good manners are. In fact, most of the time, you’ll barely know they’re there.”
