10. Julie
10
Y ou are a high risk and we need to do some more exams.
Yup, that’s what everyone wants to hear when they go to the doctor for something that was supposed to be a routine checkup.
Please God, if there is one, give me a fucking breather.
It’s like life keeps throwing stones at me, wondering when I will break.
Soon, really fucking soon.
Because let me tell you, I’m close.
After the yacht party, I’m having nightmares again, and the lack of sleep is not helping with my ability to cope with everything that’s falling apart around me.
The moment I saw those deep waters below me, every single emotion came rushing back in like a hurricane. Aiming to destruct and destroy. The panic suffocated my heart and as much as I’m grateful Jason pulled me out of it, it also doesn’t help. It’s just messing with my head more than I can allow.
My beaten heart has been swooning over his Superman grip when he quite literally whisked me to a safe space. It was nothing short of a Marvel movie, and now I’ve been flipping between emotions for the past forty-eight hours.
One moment, I’m overwhelmed by grief, missing my family more than ever, and the other, I’m wondering if maybe Jason doesn’t hate me after all. But the worst thing is the temptation to call him that’s been sitting uncomfortably in my upper body.
To slip back into that old routine, even though the taste of rejection still fresh on my tongue prevents me from actually doing it.
I push all the hope out of my throat as I release a deep breath, dropping my groceries onto the kitchen counter.
I debated calling Kayla or Charlotte, asking for their words of wisdom, but I already know which way they’ll direct me. The one that will swell my chest with hope, and I can’t fucking have that. Hope is the recipe for disappointment. I’ve had plenty of that.
Should I tell them about my doctor’s appointment?
No, they’ll ask too many questions and worry. Especially Charlotte. She went through this too many times with her mother; I can’t put her through it again. Not until they are sure.
What if they are sure?
In my head, I’m thrown back to the many hospital visits we had with Elizabeth, but this time, it’s my hair that’s gone, a bald head hidden underneath a hat, and my legs shuffle over the linoleum floor.
Oh my god.
Nope, not thinking about that.
Breathe, Jules.
I recover myself, inhaling deeply, exhaling with intent, then conjure a smile on my face that’s meant to seal the deal.
Pulling the Cheetos out of the bag, my lips curl wider before it quickly turns into a frown, and I squeeze my lashes together to prevent the tears from escaping.
A lump the size of North Carolina painfully throbs in the back of my throat. And just like that, I’m being thrown into the next piece of hardship of my day-to-day.
It still feels like yesterday when Ruben and I would flip the whole bag over and start counting every single one of them to make sure we’d divide them evenly and negotiate. He was always better at it than me until we’d finally come to an agreement. But being my big brother and my best friend, he always, always, gave me one more.
My phone vibrates loudly on the glass surface of the induction cooktop, and I wipe away any excess moisture that still stains my cheek before I swipe up the device.
Jacob.
You have gotta be kidding me.
“I told you to stop calling me.”
“You really don’t have to be so nasty, Jules.” Jacob’s slimy composed voice ticks me off, but it’s the way he draws out my nickname that makes my skin crawl.
“Don’t call me that. In fact, don’t call me at all.”
“How was your yacht party?”
What in the actual fuck?
A cold shiver runs down my spine even though all my windows are closed.
“Are you keeping tabs on me?” I glare into my living room while an unsettling feeling washes over me.
“You sound paranoid.”
Cautiously, I amble over to the window on the other side of my apartment, then glance out onto the street. He’s not seriously having someone follow me, right?
Would he go that far?
Other than a few cars driving by and some people strolling down the street, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, but there’s still a pit forming in my stomach.
He wouldn’t, right?
He’s just trying to scare me. I bet he saw photos of us all together on Jordan’s Instagram or maybe even Ford’s. Yeah, that has to be it. But then again, I was with them for just five minutes before I got the hell out of there.
“I’m hanging up.” I’m not going to give him any more satisfaction than he already got in my thirty seconds of silence.
“Don’t hang up, Julie.” There’s something diabolical about the way he says it, and I freeze. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Your dad’s lawyer came today.”
Of course he did.
Son of a bitch is not wasting a minute, is he? As soon as Monday hit after the gala, my phone was flooded with texts and calls from my dad. I didn’t reply to any of them. Because he’s gonna ask me questions I can’t answer without lying.
I don’t wanna lie to him.
“Julie? We’re still on the same page, right?” Jacob asks when I still don’t say anything.
I let out something that’s half a snort, half a laugh, but regardless, it’s filled with contempt. “I can’t believe I loved you once. How can you do this to me? To your brother?!”
I only had a sibling for a short period of time, but I can’t imagine trying to destroy his life just to get what I want. Isn’t there this secret code that siblings are supposed to stick together? That they should take care of each other? Protect each other?
“Oh, please,” Jacob sputters. “You never wanted to take over Bradford anyway.”
“I wanted to do it differently! I never said I didn’t want it.”
Sure, I was gonna update stuff, processes, look for different ways of marketing that my father is hesitant to use because “ it all works just fine .” But I never said I didn’t want to take over Bradford Real Estate.
I love being a real estate agent. Loved. I’d enjoy strolling through each new listing, taking a glimpse into everyone’s home unapologetically. I had plans to expand our reach to the rest of the country, and I even was planning to aim at luxury homes in Charlotte at some point.
Now that’s nothing more than a pipe dream.
“Come back to me and we can do it together.”
“Are you serious?”
“Come on, babe. Give me another shot.”
Oh my god. He really fucking is. He thinks that after assaulting me, blackmailing me, and manhandling me in front of his brothers, he still has a fucking shot? That I would actually take him back? Have I been that much of a pushover all these years?
I guess the answer is clear, and it doesn’t help my self-esteem.
I should have broken up with him long before I did.
“You had enough chances.”
“I know. But I miss you.” For a minute, the gravity of his words hits home, but then his vicious side returns like he’s stepping into his true form again. “But I suppose you replaced me with Jason, haven’t you?”
He has the fucking balls to sound indignant, as if I am doing all this shit to him .
“He won’t talk to me, Jacob!” I yelp, frustration aching in my bones as I move back to the kitchen. “I can’t talk to my parents! I can’t talk to Charlotte, because she’ll know what’s up within a heartbeat and march into that office, my office, and kick your sorry ass. You’ve completely isolated me.”
They all knew something was up the moment I packed my bags and caught a plane to California, but they all are too understanding to pry, probably praying I’ll tell them what the fuck is going on eventually.
But this motherfucker has me in a fucking chokehold, and now I can’t even fucking tell them all the other shit I’m worried about because I fear it will lead to them asking questions about everything else.
Emotion overwhelms me, threatening to drag me under like it has all weekend.
“I’m sorry, okay?”
No, he’s not. Jacob Spencer doesn’t have a regretful bone in his body, or he wouldn’t be doing this to me.
I shake my head, willing the sadness to disappear from my eyes. “Sorry for what? If you’re so sorry, you would tell my dad the truth. You wouldn’t lie to them the way you are. You can’t turn my family against me like this.”
Vigorously, I start to pull the remaining groceries from the bag and slam them onto the counter one by one.
“Your dad will forgive you. It might take a while. But you know he will. You’re the apple of his eye.” He says it with so much blasé that it’s uncanny.
He needs mental help, I swear.
“The apple who stole 50k from him, if I let you have your way.” I chuck the fruity loops into the cabinet. “Look, I moved to LA, I will stay here, and I will give you my share of the company. But you will return that money and we’re gonna come up with some kind of excuse.”
I’ve accepted that I won’t have a future at Bradford Real Estate. I even debated starting my own company, and maybe when I’ve regained my confidence, I fucking will. But what I won’t accept is him stealing from my father and blaming me.
It’s one thing to make my folks believe I don’t want the company, but it’s a whole other letting them believe I’m a fucking thief.
“No, Julie. We won’t,” he snarls with a sneaky little laugh.
“Why the hell not?”
If he becomes owner of Bradford Real Estate, he doesn’t need that money. His yearly profit payout will be more than fifty grand anyway. That’s what he wants, right? Security.
“Check your messages.”
Dread washes over me, drying up the back of my throat. “What have you done?”
I put him on speakerphone and do as he says, tapping my screen while I gulp but can’t get rid of the dryness in my mouth. My throat closes up when I tap the play button and watch the video he sent me.
No.
There is no fucking way.
Lips part as I gasp for air, my eyes growing wide in shock. How is this fucking possible? How did he do this? Acid burns up my gullet, threatening to resurface what little breakfast I ate this morning.
My stomach hurts, and my knees buckle me to the floor, tears now forming faster than I can swallow them away.
I hate him. I hate him as I stare at the two bodies colliding together, the pumping motions with the moans rolling off my tongue. My hair is messy, sweaty, and my pleasure is undeniable.
“How could you?” I whisper, disgusted that he’d take a moment like that and make it something so tacky and ugly.
“You’re my ticket into real estate, and I’m not going to let you fuck it up.”
My phone slides onto the cold tiles as I bury my hands in my face. I can’t believe he did this. I can’t believe he would go this far. I hate him, but I hate myself just as much for not seeing it sooner.
Jason was right all along, and my stubborn ass wouldn’t see it. Now, his vindictive brother has my back against a wall, and I’m his fucking bitch more than ever.
I’m gonna throw up.
I don’t just feel used. I feel violated.
“I’m curious? Who do you hate more? Him or me?” I ask in a moment of defiance.
His chuckle grates my ears. “I wasn’t gonna trust your pretty eyes. It’s just business.”
My head pounds as my heart beats painfully, but I’m putting in an effort to keep my spine as straight as possible.
“Don’t do this, Jacob. Please,” I beg, even though it’s no use.
“I’ll let you know when you can expect the papers.”
It’s too much. The darkness is too heavy, and I don’t know how to deal with it anymore. I shut my eyes, until the line goes silent, and then I let my entire body fall to the floor.