“My cousin told me that she’s been fucking my husband. I got these pictures in the mail and then I went to her apartment and confronted her. She smiled. Like it was nothing. Before that I saw my husband with his hands all over some waitress.”
I say nothing—I only watch her, listening.
“I used to be happy. That’s how it always starts. When we’re children. We are happy. We are innocent. We are invincible. But then reality sets in and we are no longer the same, we are no longer anything but hopeful that tomorrow will be better.” She finally looks at me. Her drained eyes make my chest hurt. “Will tomorrow be better, Hugo?”
“No,” I tell her the truth.
She gives me the saddest smile I have ever received and without caution she leans in and presses her lips against mine. I slide my fingers through her hair and begin unbuttoning her top. She breaks the kiss and stares at me with desire and sadness and it has to stop, so I make her feel better in that limo. I make her feel alive even if it’s only for a moment. She will forget the tears and fears and embrace the sin. Will tomorrow ever be better? No, it never will.
Part 3
“Let’s kill the bitch.”
- Someone in this book
17
JULIET
Weeks pass, feelings get crazier.
That’s all I can say to sum it up. I haven’t seen much of Hugo. He has buried himself more into the scheme he and Scarlett created, whatever that is. I think it’s bigger than him just shagging his father’s wife. I know he also wants to stay away from me. I should be glad. Scarlett’s words the last time we spoke, the vindictive reflection from her grey eyes, should have been enough warning for me. Hugo and Scarlett have this deep bond—no matter what originated it, it’s there. But it’s also there with him and me. I’ve been here for six weeks now and already I’m falling for someone. That is so romantically cliché. I was not meant for cliché moments in my life. It’s massive. It’s bad and it’s lovely. I want to fall into the possibility, but how can I fall when Hugo won’t be there to catch me? He’s clearly bad for me. Clearly. Yet, I can’t stop my heart from getting anxious every time it’s a possibility I’ll see his face. And there is always a possibility I’ll see his face.
“These things always suck,” Jordana says, lighting up her cigarette. I don’t think she can smoke in this banquet hall, but like she cares.
Right now we are at a charity function hosted by one of the women of the Manhattan Elite. I can’t even tell you which one. I just know that I’m at another one of the events on my mother’s list.
“At least they have good music,” I point out the bright side, but I agree and it doesn’t matter what country, these charity events are always the same. It’s filled with the same people spewing out terms of endearment and emptying their pockets, sparring to see who could give the biggest donation. If you give the biggest donation, you are the richest person in the club. It’s amazing how karma bites selfish people in the ass without them even knowing it.
“Oh shit,” Jordana mutters, her eyes fixed on the crowd. I follow her gaze and see Margaret Jacobs with her arm hooked around a man. He looks to be our age, brown hair brushed back, a plaid shirt, dinner jacket with a gold patch on the right side, and white trousers on. Margaret looks pretty in her conservative green flowered dress. It covers all the right parts, not shedding light on how bare she can be.
“Who’s that with her?” I ask.
“Her cockfront.” I can’t help but to laugh at Jordana’s term for Margaret’s apparent fake boyfriend. “Paul Maddison. He’s in med school, studying to be a heart surgeon. She’s been seeing him for a year now.”
“He’s cute.”
She gives me a face, “Cute for a mentally retarded puppy, you mean.”
“Oh, I sense a hint of jealousy coming from that tone.” She says nothing, only exhales the smoke from her cigarette. “It’s getting harder, isn’t it?”
She huffs, “I used to could take it. The secrecy, the bullshit ignorance, but now… it’s starting to really piss me off not being able to just… I don’t know.”
“Be loved the way you deserve?” I state it more than question.
“I suppose all that girly shit.” She shrugs and I laugh a little.
“Jordana, all because you’re gay does not make you immune to feelings. You’re still a girl at the end of the day.”
“I know, but usually I am rarely bothered by this.”
“Babe, you flat out told me that you were in love with her. What did you expect?”
“I expected the worse. Does not mean I don’t get to complain about it, so let me complain without you giving your opinion. You have Hugo for that.”
The mention of his name even makes me feel something unsettling in the pit of my stomach.
“Hi, Jordana, Poppy.” A girl comes up to us. Not just any girl. A real bitch. “Juliet, I heard you were in town.”
“Lovely to see you, Dominique.” Dominique is this cunt I used to be mates with. She’s the daughter of a famous actress and a former football player. When I decided to gain back my moral compass, she said I became boring. Personally, I think I’m too witty to be boring. I don’t miss her or her conversations about the alternative evil intentions of dwarfs or her obsession with Prince Harry. Although, I do wonder which of the sons of the great and amazing beautiful Princess Diana—still not over her death—are better in bed.
“I see you’ve gained a bit of weight,” she says and smiles.
“I see the Gucci and highlights still inhabit the place where your brain used to be.”
Her smile falters. She rolls her eyes and glances at Jordana. “Anyway, is Hugo here?”
Of course he shagged her too.
“He should be here soon,” Jordana says then looks towards the doors.
I follow her gaze. Hugo walks in like a damn Adonis per usual. He’s wearing a tailored maroon jacket and pants. Probably Valentino. I love Valentino.
“Speaking of Diablo,” Jordana says.
“They’re serving Mexican food here?”
Jordana and I look at each other. I think we are hoping she is just kidding. Even Poppy looks at her sideways.
Hugo comes towards us and Dominique stands straighter, perking her tits up. They are huge.
“Hi, Hugo.” He nods his head towards her and she kisses him on the cheek. I want to vomit at the sight of her lips on his cheek. “I texted you a couple days ago, you never responded.” She says it like she’s unbothered, but I think she fails to realize that not mentioning it in the first place will make her seem more unbothered. He’s not paying attention. He’s looking around the crowd for someone. He’s looking for her.
“I’ll see you guys later,” he says and coldly brushes past Dominique who gapes at him.
I don’t say anything, but my eyes meet his as he tries to sneak a glance at me.
“What in the bloody hell?” Dominique asks herself frowning and hands on her hips.
“Maybe you should push up your tits more, love,” I suggest, a smug grin on my face.
“Still keep in touch with the jittery bitch?”
My jaw hardens and my fists clench. What I wouldn’t do but to sock her in her fucking mouth. I step closer and I take a page from Hugo’s book.
“You remember that time during that bloody holiday?”
Her eyes broaden. “Go to hell, you hag.”
“I’ll see you there,” I say as she walks off.
“Nose bleeds?” Jordana asks, looking at me confused.
“Let’s just say it involved a famous football player, video camera, and a lot of blood.”
“Soooo,” Poppy says, “Dominique had sex with a football player while she was on her period and he freaked out, called her a loser and lousy lay and it was all recorded?”
My eyes flutter at Poppy. “Um… yeah.”
Poppy giggles. “That’s funny.”
Jordana looks at me. “Sometimes that brain of hers overly works.”
&nbs
p; “I see.”
“Who recorded it?”
I wince and lock eyes with hers. “I did.”
“Damn… you were a bitch.”
“I know.”
HUGO
“So, how are you with Kelly?” Scarlett asks me.
“The usual. We do nothing but have sex. When can I be done with her?”
She gives me a look. “What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m tired. I’m bored. I’m ready to move on.”
“You have been MIA lately. What’s been going on?”
“I just get tired of the same shit. I thought you had Chad take the photos already.”
“I did. They’re quite tantalizing. Did you get the video?”
“Yes… I’m thinking about going away for the rest of the summer.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to. Why does there have to be any other reason than that?”
“Where have you’ve been spending most of your time? With Kelly? Do you like her?”
“Oh, please,” I scoff. “I am just tired, Scarlett. Don’t you ever just get tired?”
She tilts her head. “No.”
“Hurry up,” I tell her.
“I already have everything I need, Hugo.”
“Then what have you been waiting on?”
“For her care for you to sink deeper. The more she cares, the worse she’ll get.”
She walks away smiling. I make a mistake, looking to my left. Juliet is there at the bar ordering a beverage. I can continue ignoring her, going down my own path. I don’t have time for detours, but still I find myself walking towards the bar. The bartender brings her a drink. I’m standing behind her now, staring at her like a love sick puppy. There’s that word again that keeps coming up in my head. Love. Love. Love. Fucking love. I’m not in love, but the term has caused a slight setback in my usual apathetic nature. That’s why I’ve been MIA from everyone these past couple of weeks. Juliet’s persistence annoyed me, yes. Then when I finally had Kelly, I thought it would do something. I thought it would awaken me. Become oh so vigorous, but it didn’t. Sleeping with Kelly only made me feel more numb like the rest of them. Everything is making me numb, but every time I set eyes on Juliet, I feel… Oh God, don’t make me say it… I feel alive. Ugh. There I said it. It’s so stupid. I feel alive. I feel excited. I had to get away from that, so I personally make it my mission to meet Kelly every time at the New York Palace. It’s my favorite hotel and I waste it on pointless fucks with a woman that’s not even that bad. Kelly is just a broken one like the rest. Not her fault. She’s just surrounded by careless people. We all are. When you spend your whole life being numb, you’re afraid to be alive. Oh God, there goes another cheesy line. Regardless, it’s true. Juliet is magnificent and even looking at her is making me deaf.
Juliet
“Are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to say something?” I ask him. I can feel him smirking behind me. I know he’s standing there.
“Depends,” he speaks softly and it brings a smile to my face. “Are you going to ruin it by talking?”
I turn around and meet his stoic face. He’s standing closer than I thought. “Now we both know that’s not fun for me. But as for lecturing you, we can call it a truce for now. It is a party.”
He continues to stare at me with this intensity that knocks all my defenses down. He eternally damns me. I continue staring back with equal intensity before swallowing the lump in my throat and speaking again.
“Haven’t seen you much lately.” I point out.
“Is that code for you missed me?”
Yes.
“Code for… haven’t seen you much lately.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy doing what? Planning your destruction over humanity?”
His lips are pressed but the corners of his mouth turn up a bit and an amused mumble escapes his throat. Holy shit, he’s laughing. Well, sort of.
“That will have to wait,” he says, still a semi-smile on his face.
“But your dad?”
“He’s still doomed for death.”
“You don’t sound that enthusiastic about it anymore.”
“I’ve just… been tired.”
“Too much shagging?”
He rolls his eyes and he seems frustrated. I think he really needs me to listen.
“I’m sorry, seriously,” I say. Concern filled in my voice. “Are you okay?”
“Yes as okay as I should be.”
“So, why are you here, Hugo?”
“My dad wanted me here to contribute a donation.” My question was really for why he was here now in front of me, but I’ll leave it be.
“How much?”
“Two hundred grand, but I made a different gesture.”
“Didn’t he write a check?”
“Yes, but I mastered his signature and I have my own copy of his personal checks. So he’ll be getting a pleasant surprise when he sees seven hundred and fifty grand missing from one of his accounts.”
I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. “He’s going to kill you.”
“He’ll probably steal it out of my own inheritance.” He shrugs it off.
“What else are you planning?”
“Nothing that concerns you. I’m just helping out a friend.”
“Your good friend, Scarlett?” He takes his eyes off of me, trying to escape from my prying. “Is she the reason why you haven’t been around the house lately?”
“Sure you didn’t miss me?” he asks again.
“I miss having something gorgeous to look at and someone stupid to argue with,” I admit.
His lips curl a little.
“You know at some point you should crack a smile, teeth and all.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Come on,” I urge him, pointing my finger to his chest. “I know you can do it.” I begin to pull on his ear and shrug his head away, cracking a smile. Then, probably regrettably, he does it. He smiles. His teeth are white and perfect. He’s perfect. He’s perfectly imperfect.
“There,” he closes his mouth quickly and frowns. “Happy now?”
“Very.”
“You guys want to go out tonight?” Poppy asks with Jordana standing by her side.
“No,” Hugo answers.
“Actually, Nicky really wants us to go out tonight,” Jordana says, narrowing her eyes at me.
I look past them to see Nicky King who is looking very good. He smiles at me and nods his head towards my direction.
I smile and surprisingly blush.
“Nicky King, really?” Hugo asks, disapprovingly.
“Wow,” Jordana’s eyes widen. “Beyoncé’s ‘Jealous’ is the perfect song to be playing right now.”
“Let us not be ludicrous,” he sneers at her then looks back at me. “A person of your stature could do better than Nicky King.”
“Let us go and find some other business, Poppy,” Jordana says.
“Wait, this is getting really good.” Jordana drags Poppy away.
“Well,” Juliet drawls out, baffled at my opinion. “A person of your stature could do better than well… everything that you do. Some of the girls you sleep with can do better than you. But instead we sometimes settle for ambiguity.”
“I thought you were a person who would never settle? A person who is not ordinary.”
“It’s sometimes hard when the thing you want is something you can never get the chance to reach beyond settling.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it,” he quietly says.
“What?”
“You’re a fighter. If the thing you want is not within reach, you go for it anyway. You fight for it.”
How can he even speak to me through subtitles?
“Hugo, sometimes the fighter has to be fought for every once in a while.” Before I leave, I would like to point something out. “Oh, and also by telling me I’m not ordinary, it’s confirming that you think I’m extraordinary. Which I am… Hopefully your stu
pidity doesn’t overcome you and realize that my stupidity has when it comes to you because while you’re suggesting someone of my stature could do better than someone else, it is quite clear that I could do better than you. Unfortunately, I’m stupid.” I force a smile.
His face contorts. “What the fuck? What the fuck just happened?”
“I mind fucked you like I always do. When people tell the truth more than people like you and Scarlett, it renders even the jackasses speechless.”
I smile at him and walk off.
18
Scarlett
I needed to do some retail therapy so I spent most of the day on Madison Avenue. All this being good for Patrick is stressful. The sex and gifts from him have been making it less difficult, but now his mother is making it more difficult again. Patrick is at a meeting; I know that. His sister is probably in her room texting or whatever and Jane is sitting in my living room watching the news, but to me it looks like she’s been waiting for me.
“I see you’ve been spending more of my son’s money,” she says without even blinking her eyes as she pierces them along with daggers into my face.
I laugh a little at the audacity. “Oh, Jane. You forget that my father and mother’s family are both comprised of prestigious and very wealthy citizens of this fine country.”
“And yet it still doesn’t stop you from pursuing eligible rich, fine men like my son.”
“That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think, Jane?” I fold my hands together and enter the living room as the bellboy puts away my bags and leaves. “Being a woman from… a lesser means family, I’m sure you didn’t enjoy people assuming that you were spending your husband’s money as he worked hard for it.” Her jaw starts to tighten and her brow creases, showing wrinkles in her forehead. “They even spread horrid rumors like… like that you were pregnant with Patrick’s brother before marrying Mr. Townsend. That the fact that you were pregnant was the only way for a man of his stature and credentials to make you an honorable wife. But that’s all alleged.”
She smirks. I’ve given her a taste of my true self and she thinks she has me, but what she doesn’t know is that in this card game, I play all hands—even hers.
Sinners & Saints (Sinners & Saints #1) Page 20