17. Nolan #2
The cherry red end of her joint lights up as she sucks back another mouthful of smoke and then releases it into the air.
This girl is an enigma and no matter that I uncover small details about her, that I’ve started learning what her moods mean, I don’t think I’ll ever know everything there is to know about her. Is that what draws me to her?
“I know you liked the job, but when we get to Eastpoint there will be more opportunities,” I assure her.
She sighs. “It wasn’t the job I liked, but the freedom it gave me,” she replies. “I don’t have that anymore, and I don’t like relying on you.”
“You—”
Juliet doesn’t let me finish. “Don’t try to say that I’m not.
” Her lips twist and though the corners tip upward, it’s more grimace than smile.
“You have me right where you want me, but there’s nothing holding us together.
Nothing that will keep any of you from waking up in the morning and realizing that I’m too much trouble to keep around. ”
“You’re one of us now.” The words burst out of me, low and growly. Anger burns in my arteries. How can she fucking question us now? We’ve killed for her.
“Yeah?” She rolls her head back on her shoulders. “What does that mean? There’s no blood between us.”
“You think blood means anything?” I ask. “I would kill for Lex and Gio, they would kill for me, and there isn’t a drop of fucking blood between the three of us. Why would that change with you in the mix?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” she asks. “I’m just pussy to you. That’s all anyone says I am anyway.”
“They’re fucking wrong.” Whoever has been spreading that shit will find themselves sans fucking tongue if they say as much in front of any of us.
“It wouldn’t matter even if we had blood between us. Blood doesn’t keep people from leaving,” she says, sounding far too old to be an eighteen-year-old girl.
I stare at her, seeing past the smooth ivory skin and the dark lashes and further into who the hell this girl is. Why has Lex always been obsessed with her? What is it about her?
Reaching out, I carefully take the joint from her fingers and bring it to my lips. I suck back the smoke and let the weed calm my internal rage before I hand it back. “You’re wrong about that,” I tell her as she takes the joint.
“What?” Her face is illuminated by both the moon and the light of the windows as she tips her face up to meet my gaze.
Settling one hand on the railing, I shift in front of her, blocking her body against the fragile wood. “There is blood between us.”
Her eyes settle on mine and never waver as she puts the joint between those pouty lips of hers. My hand moves up, grazing the underside of her jaw and down the long column of her throat.
“There’s no washing away the kind of blood that stains your hands when you claim a life,” I say, dropping my voice into a whisper before leaning close.
“You sealed your fate when you pulled that trigger, Princess. If this is you second-guessing whether or not you belong, well, it’s too late for that. ”
I grip her jaw and tilt her face down to mine. Her lips part and I lean in. The smoke flows out of her mouth and right into mine. It’s heady. It’s a connection that makes me feel both alive and almost dead. Like I’m standing on a cliff, heartbeats away from the end and yet… still fucking here.
“People are people.” Her voice is quieter than before. Almost inaudible, but I strain to listen anyway. “Blood or not… there’s nothing keeping the three of you attached to me. Everyone’s gotta look out for themselves.”
It’s strange to hear someone like her say something like that.
Half a year ago, she was at the top of the food chain at Silverwood Prep.
Now, she’s a Public girl. No, less than that, she’s the gutter trash of Public.
Hated. Reviled. Detested. Yet, here she sits like none of that shit bothers her, joint in hand, eyes unfocused, sucking back the weed like it’s a cure all for the shitty hand she’s been dealt.
And yeah, if I take a moment to actually think logically about this whole thing, the immense hatred of her doesn’t make a lick of sense.
If I can claim I’m not my parents, then so can she. Still, it’s hard to convince other people of that. With Allen Donovan in prison and Denise Donovan out of sight, that only leaves one public target people can take their anger out on. Juliet Donovan, Silverwood’s fallen princess.
And from what I’ve heard—she knew it would be coming.
That’s why she joined Cory’s Gym. As smart as Cory is, he’s also got a big heart.
I’ve no doubt in my mind that he’s the one that guided her through the moves she knows now—moves she wouldn’t have had to know had she been able to stay at Prep.
Their battleground is far different from ours.
They fight with words and insults and money.
That’s not a world she belongs to anymore.
But the world she’s been dropped into isn’t one she’s familiar with.
She needed to learn, to study. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have survived as long as she has.
Because we, the people of the gutter, fight with our fists and teeth.
Not everyone can make a fall from grace look as fucking good as she does.
Lord knows it’s obviously not easy. In a town as small as this one, everyone knows where she’s at now.
No dad. No mom. Too old to go into the system.
Too young to really be considered an adult.
She’s slipped through the system’s cracks and is living as best she can. Day to day. Paycheck to paycheck.
If I’m being honest, it’s a shock she’s not having a harder time.
A girl like her who once had everything—the best school, best food, best clothes, best car—now has nothing, and she acts like it doesn’t even matter.
She doesn’t complain. She just sits there, closes her eyes, and takes another hit from her stolen joint before reopening those ocean blues of hers and holding the dying snub of what she’s got left out to me.
“Want the last hit?” she offers, and because I’m fucking stupid and I know where it will lead, I lean forward and take her hand in mine, guiding the mouth end of the joint to my lips and closing them around it before inhaling. The pads of her fingers brush against my mouth.
Our eyes lock together as I suck, dragging in the last of the drug as the red end of the joint lights up, glowing red against her cheeks before burning out completely and casting the two of us back into the place we belong. The darkness.