by Lory Wendy
I nearly trip over my own feet, trying to get to each of them.
“Long time no see,” Chantel says smugly, hugging me.
“How come you didn’t tell me?”
“Because it’s called a surprise for a reason,” Julian answers from behind me, shooting a wide, thankful smile Chantel’s way, and then a playful glare my way.
I’ll be in trouble for that later. Hopefully in the best possible way.
“So, what’s the plan?” I clap my hands once and hold them together. “What do you guys want to do first?”
“I kind of want to settle in,” Chantel answers. I nod, understanding. They’ve had just as busy of a weekend as we have.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Julian says, looking around the room at everyone. “Whatever she wants.”
“I hope the plan includes food,” Blaire snips.
Hope squeezes Quincy’s shoulder; he just drops his head and shakes it. “Give me strength,” he mutters.
Julian clears his throat, looking at my sister then back at me. “Only if you’re hungry.”
“I could eat.” My yawn cuts me off before I can say anything else. I try and shake it off, but another yawn follows.
“You guys go ahead,” Julian says, pulling me into his side. I yawn again and rest my head on his arm. “We’ve been flying all morning. Selena needs a nap.”
“Why are you so tired? You’re not pregnant, are you?” Blaire asks, and now I’m right there with Quincy praying for the Lord to give me strength.
Julian looks over at Rocky who takes a step toward Blaire and whispers something in her ear. She rolls her eyes but mercifully shuts up. I hope we can sneak some sister time together while we’re here, since I don’t see her anymore when we’re home, but the way she’s already acting, I’m not so sure.
“We’ll grab something to eat and catch up with you guys later,” Quincy decides for the group.
They all leave with excited “happy birthday” and “we’ll see you later” murmurs to me and “thank yous” to Julian. I can’t believe he planned this. And for me!
“Why are you so amazing?” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.
“Not so fast.” He pulls back. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”
There were a few reasons why, none of which I want to admit to him. “Let’s talk about it later.” I play at the button of his pants. “I want to see the bedroom first.”
He slips his hand under my dress while walking us backward until my hip hits something hard. Both of his hands grip at my waist tightly to pull me up to the table.
“There are plenty of places to see here, not just the bedroom.”
“We can just stay in and meet up with everyone tomorrow if you want.” Julian runs his palm up and down my back and pinches my ass with the other.
“You’ve had enough.” I smack his hand away.
“I can never have enough of you.”
“When did you turn into such a cornball?” I tease, giving him a cheesy smile so he knows I’m joking and I love this side of him.
“Smartass,” he mutters.
“You love me!” I sing, then freeze. It’s a silly, almost generic comeback, but in this moment, I don’t want him to admit or denounce it. I can’t handle any reality in my fantasy weekend.
“Guys?” Blaire’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door.
Julian glares at the door, but me? I’m thinking saved by the bell. “Come in!” I shout.
“It’s locked,” she says.
With a loud, and nearly exaggerated, groan that makes me smile, Julian stomps toward the door, cussing everyone out in the process. “Next time, we’ll come to your room to get you guys when we’re fucking ready.”
“It’s okay.” I lay a hand on his chest.
“We need to talk to you anyway,” Pierce says, looking from his phone to Chantel.
She perks up. “Okay, ladies. That’s our cue. Who’s up for some girl time?”
I wait for Julian to answer, but his focus is on Pierce, and the two seem to be having a silent conversation.
“You have to do it,” Pierce answers the question neither one of us heard. “It has to be you for this one.”
Chantel and I lock eyes as our men continue their stare down. When she nods, I do too. I don’t know exactly what I’m agreeing to, but I know enough not to let the awkwardness stretch out any further.
“Meet you guys in a little bit?” I ask Julian.
He snaps out of his trance and softens his gaze. “Just wait for us downstairs.” He rubs his thumb on my chin. “We won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” I squeeze his hand. “Let’s go, ladies.”
We file out silently and make our way to the lobby, which, like I assume every lobby around here, has slot machines. Chantel takes a seat at one, tossing in some change while the rest of us sort of hover around her.
“What’s taking so long?” Blaire whines.
She might be annoying as hell for the short time we’ve all been in Vegas, but we all feel the same way, so I can’t even argue.
“It does feel like it’s been awhile,” Hope agrees.
Truly, it probably hasn’t been more than twenty minutes since we’ve been down here, but just waiting seems to make the time drag on.
“Maybe we should just head out and they can meet up with us,” Hope suggests. She immediately gets shut down by the three of us. Head out and go where exactly? “Okay, fine, then I’m going upstairs to tell them to hurry their asses.”
“No!” Chantel shouts, getting in her way. “I mean…” She looks to me for what I assume is backup, but I’m on board with Hope wrangling them down, so I say nothing. Chantel then looks to Blaire who doesn’t offer any help either. Her shoulders deflate, and she sidesteps Hope to stop her. “Okay, but let Selena go. It’s her birthday; they won’t get pissed at her.”
“Agreed,” they each say, taking a mock vote.
“Majority rules, I guess.”
I run up to the room, secretly thankful to be voted the one to go up because I need to pee. But I immediately stop, confused when I see five people on the balcony. Our guys make four and I don’t recognize the fifth man. I tiptoe toward them, ready to put on a full pout and beg them to hurry up and come downstairs, only to freeze when Julian’s leg comes up off the ground and connects with the fifth man’s chest. He falls to the floor, and Quincy and Rocky take a step back while Julian takes a step forward. Julian lifts him off the ground with the other guys flanking his sides, and when the light from the Strip shines on them, and I see it’s the guy from the Derby: Mister One-Hundred-Thousand-Dollars.
I watch, still frozen, as Julian drags the man like he weighs nothing, toward the edge of the balcony and leans him over the railing.
I’m petrified to see what Julian might do, but I can’t move away either. It feels like minutes tick by, though a clock ticking lets me know it’s only seconds.
Julian takes a step back, bringing the guy with him, before throwing him on the ground. At this point, I’m not breathing. If I were, I would have let out a relieved breath that he didn’t toss the man to his death. The rest of the guys are still there, calm, flanking his sides, but Julian is the only one inflicting damage, his hands coming down in quick synchronized blows as man number five lies nearly lifeless on the ground.
Even from here, I can see it in his eyes, in his body language. I always thought Julian was badass—all the guys are in their own way—but this is something else.
This is Julian out for blood.
This is Julian the monster.
This is the Julian my heart had been telling me to steer clear from.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You okay?” Chantel asks me when I meet the girls back down in the lobby.
No, I’m not. I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.
“What’s wrong?” Hope looks to Chantel and me, but I can only stare at them wide-eyed.
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“Let me talk to Selena alone for a second.” Chantel pulls me away by my forearm. I go along with her, feeling numb.
“Hey. Hey.” She grabs my face. “Whatever you saw, you have to let it go.”
I rear back from her so quickly I back into a waitress walking by. The tray in her hands tumbles to the ground, splattering drinks on my feet.
“Sorry,” Chantel apologizes to her for me. My voice, I think along with my heart, is still on the balcony.
“We can’t be hypocrites about stuff like this,” Chantel whispers. “Girls who date guys who just sit behind a desk all day don’t get the experiences we do. They don’t get Millionaire’s Row at the Kentucky Derby followed by nights in a Vegas penthouse.”
I know she thinks she’s dropping gems of wisdom, but really all she’s doing is rationalizing the shit the guys are doing with the money we get to spend off of it. There are things, though, that are too precious to sell out for.
“What’s it worth to gain the world and sell your soul?” I choke out.
“Cocks in the hen house!” Blaire crows from somewhere behind me.
I look to my right as the guys make their way toward us. Then I look away quickly, unsure what to say to Julian.
Chantel squeezes the shit out of my arm, silently trying to tell me to snap out of it.
I can’t.
“Ready, ladies?” Quincy throws one arm around Hope and the other around Chantel cheerfully, like being a part of what I just saw is normal fodder for them. Maybe it is. No, not maybe. It definitely is.
“You okay?” Julian wraps an arm around my shoulder. My entire body tenses. He squeezes harder. “Chill out.”
“Let’s have drinks to the birthday girl!” Chantel cheers. Everything about her voice is fake right now, but the desperation in her eyes for me to play along is real.
She waves us forward, and I follow along numbly. My body is still tense under Julian’s touch. “You scared of me now?” he asks.
I gasp and stumble back. The look in his eyes is hard, lethal even.
“Here.” A shot—attached to Chantel’s hand—appears in my line of vision. I down quickly, then ask for another and another. After my fourth shot in quick succession, Julian grabs my wrist when I reach for the fifth.
“That’s enough for now. Come here.” He laces our fingers together and pulls on my hand. I lock my feet in place. I’m not going anywhere with him right now.
“Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night,” I plead to both him and myself. “Down here. With everyone else.”
“Can you do that?”
I nod because I can and I will. “It’s my birthday,” I say as the best explanation I have.
“Hell yeah, it is!” Hope cheers from next to us. She hands me a drink, but it’s just soda. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” she whispers in my ear. “But drink this and take it easy. If you need to go, just say the word.”
“Thank you.” I hug her long and hard—my only normal friend here.
The club ushers in a different vibe to the night and I’ve calmed down enough—drank enough—for me to put the shit from earlier in the back of my mind and dance my fucking heart out.
“Bathroom break,” Blaire shouts.
“We’ll be back,” Chantel shouts to the guys who nod. Julian just remains in his seat looking at me, watching me, waiting for me to do something wrong so he can talk his shit.
Holding hands, the girls and I file through the crowd and to the bathroom on our side of VIP.
“It’s my baby sister’s birthday!” Blaire announces to a random set of girls standing nearby. They shout happy birthday to me, and I soak it all up, happy everyone’s on the same page now, having a good time and pretending like we’re here with everyday normal guys.
“If anyone asks tonight,” Chantel says, staring into the mirror. “My name is Cynthia.”
“Why do we need aliases?” Hope asks.
“In case we meet some cute guys,” Blaire answers, smiling at Chantel. “Call me Bryn.” Hope and I exchange glances and roll our eyes. Bryn has been Blaire’s go-to alias for years.
Chantel’s reflection looks back at Blaire, pleased, and they stare at each other for a few seconds before looking at me. “What will your name be?” Chantel asks.
“My name will be ‘not interested,’ as in exactly what I’m going to say if a guy approaches me. In case you guys forgot, we’re here with a bunch of psychopaths.”
No one makes a snarky comment or has a rebuttal to my comment, not even Hope.
“On that note.” Blaire walks into the next open stall. She’s in there too quick to have actually used the bathroom, but I don’t call her out.
“That was quick.” Hope does though.
“Mind your business,” Blaire shoots back.
“Don’t start,” I tell them both. There’s enough ass kicking going on tonight. I don’t need it from them too.
Julian’s finally standing, and even holding a drink, when we make our way back to our section of the club. I have no clue how I’m supposed to look at him or feel about him right now, but I’m still so excited to be here and having such a good time, pre-balcony-gate, I can’t find it in me to hate him.
At least for the moment.
“Are you having fun?” I hop in front of him.
He gives me a tentative smile. “Yes, are you?”
“A blast!” I smack a kiss on his lips. I’m only partially being fake. It’s enough to loosen him up for the rest of the night though, which is something we all needed.
“You guys should come hang out in our room,” Blaire offers the group once we decide we’ve had enough of the club.
Really, I just want to go to my room and sleep, but I’m also not sure how I’m going to act being alone with Julian, so I’m the first to say, “Sounds like a plan.” And follow quickly behind her.
“This is nice,” I comment, not having seen their room earlier in the day. They’re in the same hotel as us, just not on the same floor.
Blaire grumbles something under her breath, adding, “I need to take a piss.”
“Thanks for the TMI,” Rocky says what we’re all thinking.
“Come see my room,” Hope demands, pulling me along before I can answer. “Okay, what was earlier about?” She shuts the door, coming to stand close to me.
I have no idea what to tell her, torn between wanting to admit the truth and wanting to protect Julian and, well, myself, if I’m being honest.
“We’ll talk when we get back home.” I throw her a bone.
“Promise?” She sticks her pinky out.
Looping my pinky with hers, I shake it. “I promise.”
“Can you believe this?” She throws herself on the bed. “This is how you do Vegas. I had to call out and will probably get fired, but it was so worth it coming here.”
“Oh my God, yes!” I lay on the bed next to her. “You have to tell me how this all even came about.” Clearly, if she had to call out, Julian wasn’t lying about this being super last minute.
“So Julian calls me,” she launches right in. “And at first I don’t answer the number because he called me blocked.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Anyway. He leaves me this message sounding all formal like. ‘Hi, Hope.’” She deepens her voice to sound like a man, though really she ends up sounding like a boy going through puberty, which I tell her.
“Do you want to hear the story or not?”
I wave a hand. “Go ahead.”
“So, yeah, he leaves me this message, ‘Hi, Hope. This is Julian, Selena’s boyfriend?’”
Despite the nerves from before still niggling me, and despite the fact I know there are more important things to focus on right now, a small smile still creeps up. “He really called himself my boyfriend?”
Hope nods frantically with wide eyes, and I open my mouth in a silent scream. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Wait.” She jumps up from the bed and walks to her dresser. She fumble
s around in her clutch and pulls out her phone. “Here.” She comes back to the bed and taps at the screen. Julian’s voice floats from it.
Hi, Hope. This is Julian, Selena’s boyfriend? I don’t know if you talked to her, but we’re out of town right now. Anyway, someone told me it’s her birthday. I need you to tell me if that’s true. If it is—
A loud scuffle catches our attention, followed by a strangled scream. We both jump to our feet, almost pushing each other to get to the sound first.
I rush through the other room, stopping short at the bathroom and the scene in front of me. Julian’s hovering over my sister, with a tight grip on her jaw and a dangerous look in his eyes.
“What the fuck!” I dash toward them, trying to get in the middle of them, but Julian drops his hold on Blaire and she takes a step away from me, falling against the toilet.
Julian grabs her purse and shoves it in my hands. “Dump her shit out,” he orders. Then looking back at Blaire, he says, “And you need to get the fuck out.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” she protests, whereas she’d barely said anything to defend herself when Julian looked like he was about to strangle her.
“You should have thought about that shit before.”
“You are such an asshole!”
Julian takes a step back and grins at her. “I know, and to show you how much I know that, consider your debt unresolved.”
“Julian, no!” She jumps up.
But he’s already stomping toward the door. Blaire sniffles and makes a beeline toward the rooms.
I stand stock-still, clutching to Blaire’s purse as everyone slowly makes their own way, either out of the suite or to their respective rooms. What the fuck just happened?
“Are you okay?” Hope whispers.
I shake my head. “What the hell was that?”
“Maybe you should open the bag.” Her voice holds no curiosity. She already knows what’s in it.
“What is it?”
“You should see for yourself.”
“Just tell me.”
Taking the bag from my hand, Hope dumps the contents on the bathroom counter, letting some things fall into the sink. There’s her phone, some money, a small hairbrush, lipstick, and right at the edge of the sink are three small, clear bags. Two of them hold fine white powder and the third a few pills. No. Not this shit again.
