Chapter 19
CELINE
I’m still reeling from the sex when he slips out of me and stands, his wilting cock still big, his muscles corded and tense like he’s ready for round two. He’s got an almost gentle expression on his face as he looks around for his clothes…
Until his cell phone vibrates in the pocket of his pants on the floor.
“Only one person has that number,” he says.
I swallow and sit up. I don’t have to ask to know he’s speaking about Julian. “Oh… kay.”
He massages the bridge of his eyebrows.
“Do you regret it?” I snap, angrier than I have any right to be.
“The only thing I regret is being interrupted before we could do it again,” he says, just as fierce.
“You could ignore the call,” I murmur.
He tilts his head at me, and that’s all he needs to do, no words required. I sit up and grab my tank top, not bothering with my bra, which is probably a mistake. But the sex was so mind blowing, and I love the way he looks at me, as though I never have to doubt how beautiful I am.
Damian sighs and picks up his phone. He has to answer, his expression says, because it might have something to do with the mob.
“Yeah?” he grunts, swiping the screen. A pause. “Uh, yeah. Wait a second.”
He holds the phone to his chest. I mouth silently, What are you doing? He says nothing, then, about a minute later, he finally speaks. “Julian wants to come by and talk about everything with both of us. It sounds like he wants to bridge the gap after the argument.”
Damian pretends that he had to find me in his big house, pretends that we didn’t just have sex and aren’t still in the same room.
“Uh, sure,” I say…
I want to make amends with my brother. Of course I do. What sort of sister would I be if I didn’t? But also, the idea of talking with Julian when I can still feel his best friend’s presence inside of me feels wrong, like we’re playing a trick on him, laughing behind his back.
“She said yes,” Damian says into the phone. Another pause. “Okay. Yep.” He hangs up. “He’s ten minutes away. He’s coming straight here.”
I swallow, nodding. “Okay. We can do this, right?”
Damian grinds his teeth. “Lying to Julian was never part of the plan.”
“The plan, Damian? What was the plan then? Was this part of the plan?” I gesture to my naked legs – my shorts are on the stairs.
“No,” he admits, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Julian gets here quicker than ten minutes. I barely have time to get dressed and take a few deep breaths, reminding myself I need to act normal around my brother, when Damian tells me he’s got the text and Julian is outside.
I sit in the living room, legs crossed, wondering if I should’ve changed out of the tank top and shorts. I’m wearing my bra, at least. I wouldn’t want Julian thinking I walk around the house with my nipples poking through my shirt, tempting Damian, tempting the Beast.
When I hear Julian in the hall, I stand and pace. I can’t sit still.
Every moment throws vignettes at me, hyperreal replays of what Damian and I just did. When I told him to go harder, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to take him, but I sensed how badly he wanted to go into overdrive. I felt his irrepressible desire.
Julian and Damian walk into the room, Julian looking outwardly neat, but like there’s a storm raging inside him.
“Celine,” he murmurs, rushing over and pulling me into a hug.
I wrap my arms around him, but it feels wrong. Not even twenty minutes ago, Damian was inside me.
Julian sits, tugging at a loose thread in his jeans. “I wanted to say sorry,” he murmurs. “For lying for so long–for thinking you weren’t mature enough to understand.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say too fast.
His hand stills. He inclines his head. “Don’t worry… really?”
“You did what you thought was right,” I say quickly. Guilt pushes the words out of me. “You wanted to keep me safe. I can’t hate you for that.”
“She’s right,” Damian says, voice breaking. “You lied, Julian, but your intentions were good. You’re a good man.”
Julian looks at Damian, then looks at me. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me that easily. I’ve been lying for years.”
I wave a hand. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
In my mind, Damian is pumping his hips, his thick steel feeling as if it’s expanding inside of me.
Julian leans back, rubbing his jaw.
Damian grunts, “She’s a caring person, Julian. Most women wouldn’t forgive so easily, but Celine… she’s different.”
I shoot him a look, but he isn’t looking at me. I know he’s trying to help, but his guilt is tripping him up just like mine is messing with me. He’s giving too much away.
“It’s true that most women would hate you. But hell, Celine is a nurse who puts others before herself. She loves you too much to hold a grudge. Isn’t that right, Snow…”
He finally stops, eyes clearing, as if he’s waking from a dream. His expression turns from dreamy to suddenly alert and… angry, like he’s angry with himself for letting all that slip out, like he couldn’t imagine such a lack of control before we met.
Julian stands, his hands on his hips, looking at Damian and then at me again, double, then triple take.
“What?” Damian says, voice dark. He knows he’s slipped up.
“Snow, you said,” Julian mutters.
“Snow?”
“You called her Snow, but then you stopped. I don’t know, man. It was like you were going to use some cutesy nickname or something. With my sister.”
Damian stuffs his hands in his pockets, jaw pulsing. He looks like a man ready to do serious damage to whoever dropped him in this mess. The only problem is that it was himself.
“Leave it,” Damian growls.
“What?” Julian laughs in disbelief. “Leave it? Are you kidding me?”
“We’ve both got secrets. I’ve ignored certain things. Perhaps you ought to do the same.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
Damian lets out a husky sigh and leans against the wall, staring at Julian with a calculating look on his face.
Julian turns me, making me feel spotlit in the worst way. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need the truth.”
“The truth,” I repeat.
“Yes, the truth. I know I lied. I know I fucked up. But I came here expecting a fight, and I got this weird Stepford Sister shit instead. And now the nickname… Is something happening between you two?”
I look down at the table, unable to lie to his face, unable to even form the simple syllable of no.
“What the fuck,” Julian mutters. “When?” A pause, then he snaps louder, “When?”
Tears sting my eyes. How is this my new reality?
“Since before you moved in here?” Julian demands.
“No!” I exclaim. “It’s just since I started coming by here. We didn’t plan it, Julian. We just—”
Julian roars and throws himself at Damian. Before this moment, it was difficult to imagine my neat and well-mannered big brother as a mafia enforcer or a mafia anything, but now, I see it. The rage pushing through his calm demeanor.
Julian throws a punch at Damian. Damian doesn’t even try to block it. He keeps his hands in his pockets, taking it across the jaw.
“Motherfucker!” Julian roars, aiming another punch, but then stopping when he sees Damian is just staring, waiting, like he wants it, like he thinks he deserves it. “Fight back!”
“No,” he growls. “Hit me. Do it.”
Julian prods him in the chest. “You fucked my little sister.”
“And you were involved in the hit on me, Julian. Neither of us is perfect.”
Julian laughs nervously, shaking his head. “Where’d you get that from?”
“You lied to me about what Rico said to Celine. He said that without a body, it was difficult to be sure I was dead. That was a message for you. There’d be no reason for the Family to send you that message unless you knew. Unless you were in on it.”
Julian shakes his head, but I know my brother. That’s why I always sensed there was something else going on, why I stubbornly stuck my head in the sand for so long.
“My guess is they threatened or paid you. You agreed. But at the last minute, you changed your mind. That was why after I dispatched those two pricks, you were there so fast. It wasn’t a coincidence, you being close by. You were supposed to pull the trigger.”
Julian groans, rubbing his hands up and down his face. “I risked my life to save you,” he snaps, letting his hands drop. “I risked the Family finding out. I risked everything… and this, this is how you repay me.”
“You could’ve tipped me off. You could’ve saved me from this.” Damian gestures to his scar. “You could’ve…” His tone becomes brutal. “Get the fuck out of my house. Now.”
Something in Julian shifts. He takes a step back like he’s just seen his death flash before his eyes, like he thinks Damian is going to fight back and doesn’t think he’s got much chance.
Damian pushes away from the wall and raises his voice. “Go!”
Julian turns to me. “We’re leaving.”
“I’m not—”
“We’re leaving,” he cuts in. “This isn’t a discussion. I’m not leaving you here with him so you can betray me whenever you feel like it.”
“Go with him,” Damian says.
I try to hide the hurt, but I can’t bury it completely. You don’t want me anymore? I swallow the words.
“He’s right,” Damian goes on. “If you stay…”
He looks at me without needing to finish the sentence. I don’t have to ask what he was going to say. His scarred face is a battlefield of desire and regret… with hunger beneath it, despite everything.
“If you’re sure,” I murmur.
“I’m sure,” Julian snaps, either thinking I’m talking to him or pretending to. “Nothing is going to be the same ever again. You know that, right?”
“You should’ve taken the cash and put a bullet in me,” Damian growls.
“What’s that–a threat?”
“Just what I wish you did. I had my suspicions, Julian, but learning this about you… I feel dead already.”
Julian grabs my hand and drags me toward the door.
“My clothes–my things—”
He ignores me, dragging me through the house.