31. Julie
31
M y heart pounds as if it’s drilling a foundation, my ears having a pulse of their own. But my anger is outnumbered by my fear.
“What do you want?” I stare at the devil in front of me.
He’s looking established, with his perfect cut and pearly-white teeth flashing my way. Jacob has always had a knack for fancy clothes, and today is no exception. I size him up, my eyes slowly moving over his dark blue slacks until I reach his sly grin on top of his beige polo.
He looks like a douche. An established douche, but still a douche.
I can’t believe he hurt me and bragged about it. The girl is right. I am pathetic. But I’m nowhere near as pathetic as the man in front of me. He’s nothing but a sad little boy. A rapist.
I quirk an eyebrow, a clear question in my brown eyes, even though I know exactly what he wants. My father probably isn’t even here, so Jacob must be here on a mission.
Son of a bitch.
“Hi, nice to see you, Julie .” The little psychopath has the balls to sound chipper, as if we’re friends, and there’s nothing wrong with this entire situation.
“You stole my dad’s phone to lure me out here?” I’m smart enough to recognize a setup when I see one.
“Stop being so hostile, babe. Come on. Have a drink with me.” He strolls toward the colonial office on the right hand of the foyer like he owns the place, and I take in the great detail of the room while I reluctantly follow.
I know my dad has been wanting to sell this house for years, and I’m happy he finally got the listing. The Victorian style is shown in the perches of the construction, same as the original woodwork that adds to the finishing touch. It’s a four-bed, four-bath, 5000-square foot home that’s listed for at least 1.5 million dollars.
I don’t have to check the listing to know it; that’s how many times my dad has talked about it, begging the owners to contact him if they ever wanted to sell.
My stomach churns.
If I still lived here, I’d be selling this house. I’d be helping him find the right buyers. Organize a broker’s open. Hustling my ass off in the way I enjoy the most.
But I’m not.
Because of the man with the wicked gleam in my perimeter, holding up a glass of whiskey. “Want one?”
“Can you just say what you wanna say, Jacob?” I’m so sick of his damn games.
To jump through his hoops in the hope he won’t post that video. But this is it. For the first time in a long time, I’m done sitting back, being at his mercy. As soon as I walk out of here, I’m going to find a way to beat him at his own game.
No clue how, but I will.
“Suit yourself.” He lowers himself into the leather chair, the piece of furniture squeaking, meeting my eyes as he leans back.
The faint nutty scent of the whiskey lingers in the air. The fuel to the lava coursing through my veins. He sits there, sipping his drink like he’s some kind of Don Corleone, and I want to murder him.
Bet he told the sellers he has a showing when, really, he just wants to act like a king in a castle that isn’t his to share whatever diabolical plan he has now.
What did I ever see in this guy?
Other than the fact that he’s a year older, and therefore was the interesting college guy for a high school senior, I got nothing.
“So, you and Jason, huh?” His voice is thick with something sneaky, erupting goosebumps all over my arms.
How does he know that when we live on the other side of the country? My heart races. He must really keep an eye on us. A chill runs down my spine, but I manage to prevent my body from shuddering with it.
“I haven’t told him shit, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He tilts his head my way. “But you are together ?”
I roll my eyes at his disgust. “What does it matter?”
“Answer the question, Jules.”
“Yes! Yes, we are together.” Damn, that feels good.
It came out of my mouth with a little hesitation, but giving Jacob an honest answer with my feet firmly planted in the ground makes me realize how much I love saying that.
Jason and I are together.
I love him, and I’m going to fight for him. I’m not going to let his asshole brother come between us anymore.
I straighten my spine.
“Ah, look at that. You get all giddy and glowing just saying it.” He smirks with wicked eyes that instantly eat away at my newfound confidence. “Don’t forget our deal, though.”
“How the hell can I do that when you keep reminding me with every freaking step I take?”
Damn this devil offspring. Where did shit go wrong for him?
“What are you talking about? I haven’t talked to you in a month.”
“Oh, and what a peaceful month it was.” For a second, I even thought he was really gone. Silly me.
“Too peaceful, clearly, because I give you a little free rein and you’re shacking up with my brother.”
A glare heats my cheeks.
“Free rein?” I take a step forward on the outdated rug, crossing my arms in front of my chest with a deep scowl that’s meant to kill. “Are you shitting me? You don’t have me on a leash, Jacob. I’m not your dog.”
“Are you not?”
For once in my life, I wish I was more ruthless. I wish I had the balls to grab the pretty blue vase in the windowsill and throw it at his head without thinking about the consequences.
“I hate you.” That’s all I manage to sputter. “What is it gonna take for me to get you gone?”
He looks up at the ceiling, pretending to think hard and long when, really, he doesn’t have the capacity. “I don’t know, babe. How gone are we talking?”
Ah, see, this is where the real Jason comes through. The manipulator. The negotiator. The one who already knows what he wants. Knows what he’s going to get, but can’t help wondering if there’s more to gain for his selfless ass.
I’ve played into this hand of his many times.
“Tell me what you want first.”
His eyebrows move up, a little bit of a surprise dancing in his gaze as he holds mine. The skin around his eyes creases as he bites his lip, but I see the ghost of a smile that’s sitting in the corner.
“You’ve changed. You’re different.”
“I’m fed up,” I snap. “Just tell me what the fuck you want, or I’m walking out of here, right now.”
His hands move up in mock surrender, the whiskey almost sloshing out of the glass. “It’s a compliment.”
“I’m not really aiming for compliments from you anymore, Jacob.”
“No, I guess my brother took that position, didn’t he?”
This man has cheated on me multiple times, yet he still manages to sound bitter when he finds out I’m dating his brother.
“Just get to the damn point. What. Do. You. Want?”
“I want your share.”
My share? My share.
“You want my share ?” My lashes rapidly flutter in disbelief. “My share ?”
“Yes, your share.”
“My share in what?” Because he can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, right?
He wanted a promotion handed on a silver platter, and he got it when I left. He wanted to become my dad’s sidekick, and I assumed he wanted it to gain a network and eventually screw him over and start his own company.
So, he’s gotta be talking about something else, right?
But the deep, torturous beat of my heart already holds the answer.
“I want your share of Bradford Real Estate.”
No.
“My share? The share I automatically got by birth? The one that my father created as a gift for his kids ?”
“Yes! Your share!” His facade drops, his patience wearing thin.
My eyes widen. My words evaporate.
“You and Jason are gonna build something up together,” he goes on, as a bitter expression wrinkles his face. “You don’t even need it.”
Rage makes my heart thunder. “That’s beside the point! It’s mine!”
He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I want it, or I will publish the video, and you can both kiss your careers goodbye.” His gaze holds mine. “Do you really think NVS is going to keep you when they find out you’re a part time Pornhub star? Or Jason finding new clients when his bare ass is going viral? Not to mention, how awkward it will be when he takes you as his plus one and every man has seen your pussy.”
A condescending laugh bubbles from his chest, heat burning up mine like hot oil has been poured over my skin.
There are parts of me that were scared of this man. That tried to please him while he stood on his pedestal, but my fear is replaced with sadness and so many questions?
What happened to him that made him so ruthless and bitter? I feel so sorry for him. He’s not even a fraction of the man he aims to be. He’s nothing but a sad little boy, mad at the world.
Thank fuck, I got out.
I cock my head. “You don’t give a shit about me, or my dad, or Bradford Real Estate. I came to that conclusion a long time ago. But why your brother? Why Jason? What did he ever do to you?”
“Simple. He was born.”
My eyes almost fall out of their sockets, because it can’t be that simple. “That’s it?”
I’m sure sibling rivalry is a common thing. I’m not lucky enough to have experienced it, and I’m sure it can go pretty deep with two boys, but isn’t it also something that you should grow out of? Get over?
“You wouldn’t know, Jules,” he says, as if he can read my mind. “You’re an only child.”
Considering everything I know now, I’m so fucking relieved I never told him about my brother.
“Enlighten me,” I suggest.
“Do you know what it’s like to have a mom and a dad, and you’re their world, then all of the sudden, you get shoved aside for a new shiny toy?”
I huff. “He’s not a shiny toy. He’s your brother.”
“He’s in my way.” He slams his palm on the wooden surface, leaning in.
He’s going for shock effect, getting me startled, but the more he yells, the smaller he gets in my head.
“So, you’re jealous?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m jealous!” He leans back in his chair. “Everything he ever got was mine first! Everyone always loved Jason. My parents suddenly only saw Jason. He got picked first when we’d play outside with the neighborhood kids. He got better grades in math. Girls noticed him before he finished the eighth grade. I started working out and it took me years to get into shape. He starts working out at sixteen and suddenly he looks like an athlete. And you!” Blue eyes turn two shades darker with vigor, a piercing finger shooting my way. “I saw you first! But he couldn’t stop himself. No, he had to keep butting his head in.”
The man is crazy.
“He’s my friend! He has been since freshman year!”
It wasn’t love at first sight for Jason and me, but I still met him before I met Jacob.
“Still saw you first.”
He sounds like a goddamn toddler.
“Did it ever occur to you that he didn’t ask to be born? That he just wanted you to be his brother?”
He gets up, slamming his glass on the desk, then crosses the room until he’s standing in front of me. Whiskey breath breezes over my face, and I hold in the urge to wrinkle my nose.
I’m not scared of him. But my racing pulse is fully aware that he has at least a foot on me. That his strength will outmatch mine if it comes to it. He tilts his head, his eyes staring down at me from the bridge of his nose.
“Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be his brother in the first place?” He reaches in his pocket while our gazes stay linked, then pushes a piece of paper to my chest. “Here is the number of your dad’s lawyer.”
I pull the paper from his grasp with a shaky breath. Lowering his lips right beside my ear, he says, “You have seven days to make it happen.”
And then he disappears through the front door with a loud click.
Fuck.