I feel the sting of tears fogging my eyes, and I’m not sure ifit’s because I’m a little moved by his words or just scared and frustrated about Jules. Probably all of the above. My legs tense to turn away, but I make myself stand firm, watching him until he meets my stare.
“Okay, but here’s the deal, Sandy: If you’re messing with me, I won’t forgive you, and my payback won’t be harmless practical jokes. You don’t want to be my enemy—believe me.”
He looks so dumbstruck by my possibly-out-of-left-field hostility that I feel kind of bad. He gets up and crosses to where I am. His hands go to my shoulders; then he seems to reconsider touching me and instead adjusts the stretched-out neck of my T-shirt so it covers my bra strap.
“Few would call me a serious person,” he says, “but I couldn’t be more in earnest when I vow that I will never hurt you. To be honest, I’d fuckin’ dismantle anyone else who dared to do so. I’m… growing quite fond of you, Salvi.”
In the tense silence that follows the declaration, I hear voices in the hall, then a knock.
I take a step back, murmuring, “Uh, here they are.”
“Of course.” He steps back too.
Was I sort of wishing he’d hug me?
My face heats up and I turn away and stride to the door, opening it for Pri and Jules, waving them in. As I walk behind them, I can tell from Julian’s posture that he’s really hurting, and it freaks me out because this is a guy who I’ve seen take falls that’d wreck other people and just laugh it off.
Priya’s holding his non-broken hand. That cramp of sorrow grips me again, and it makes me feel selfish but I can’t help it. Jules always wins at being the most likeable, the most coddledby my parents. Now I guess he wins the “most broken” title with Pri too.I need her, and I’ve been nothing but a total bitch for days, and… this is the result.
Jesus, no wonder I need a fucking hug.
I glance at Alexander, who’s taken a spot on the love seat. He gives me an encouraging smile and pats the cushion next to himself and for a second I feel better.
Julian lowers onto the couch, wincing. Priya hovers over him like a mother hen, waiting for him to get situated before she joins him. Another dart of jealousy jabs my chest.
If I don’t fix this, I’m going to lose her.
Even before Pri’s PA status was official and paid by Emerald, she’s been with me. For over two years now, since I got the reserve driver gig with Harrier. She’s beenmymother hen—keeping track of the schedule; reminding me when and what to eat; nagging me about sleep and vitamins; picking up after my messy, careless ass; reading and bottom-lining my emails; covering for me when I do something stupid. The “gap year” she took from grad school turned into a much longer hiatus when she opted to stay with me and be my right-hand gal.
I can go back to university anytime, she assured me.But I can hardly let you travel all over the world alone, can I?
It’s a common misconception that “nice people” are either less tough or less smart than assholes. Make no mistake: Priya is a badass, and practically a genius. Her steady kindness is a superpower. She reads voraciously (mostly nonfiction), speaks three languages, and isn’t afraid to go in swinging when she sees injustice or cruelty.
But that dutiful compassion isn’t just her superpower, it’salso been her consistent Achilles’ heel. Watching her with Jules right now, I know I once again have been careless with her. I was unfair and surly and pushed her away.What’s my damned problem that I always do this?Just like with my parents, any love going to my brother feels like less for me, and I took that out on Priya.
I’m on the outside of this situation with Jules because I chose to be here.
It’s fucking lonely.
Even looking like four miles of bad road, Julian sends a winning look Alexander’s way, half standing and reaching across the table for a handshake. “I’m Julian. Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Alexander Laskaris.” He glances at me, then back at my brother. “I’m more than willing to take my leave if you’d prefer privacy.”
Priya mutters, “Yes, thanks,” but at the same time Jules says, “If Sage wants you here for this conversation, there must be some reason. I’m going to trust that she trusts you.”
“No!” Priya snaps, exasperated. She glares at me. “Obviously he needs to go. He’s not family just because you saw him without his pants. Can’t you set him outside the door now that you’re done with him? Maybe the hotel has a pickup service, like with the laundry.”
I can’t help laughing, and for a second I’m relieved because I think Pri’s giving me a “you’re forgiven” in, joking around, but the look on her face strangles the laughter right out of me. She’s pissed, and it’ll take more than humor to thaw her.
My brother slides his cast-bearing hand beneath Priya’s, andI know it’s partly in a comforting way, but I suspect it’s also a reminder to her of his wounded status, so she’ll back off. I’ve seen this strategy from him a million times. Jules can be massively passive-aggressive.
“Pri, baby… we talked about this last night and I told you I’m ready to be honest. You said I don’t have any reason to be ashamed.”
“This isn’t about shame,” she insists. “It’s discretion.”
He holds up both hands like a scale balancing. “Discretion, secrets…” He shrugs, and I want to smack him, becausefor fuck’s sake, there’s a difference. I try to catch Priya’s eye so I can show her that I’m on her side with this one, but she won’t look at me, and my heart sinks.
“So, this”—Julian points at his battered face, addressing Alexander and me—“happened night before last, because I got robbed while I was trying to buy pills.”
