by Lyla Oweds
Julian sleepily muttered a thank you as he followed me into the living room and sat on one of the velvet couches. “Sorry again,” he repeated as he inspected the English-styled room. “I was already in the area, and my job ended sooner than expected. So I thought I might as well come over.”
I mumbled—again—that it was all right and also took a seat. I watched him, unsure what to do now. This wasn’t my home—I couldn’t raid the wine cellar and play hostess. Besides, I had no idea how old Julian was, so there was that. There was no food—he was supposed to have brought that with him. But he did look tired, so it was likely that he had forgotten.
Should I offer coffee, or just conversation? I had no idea how to socialize.
Then, something he had said struck me. “Job?” I asked. “You work and also go to medical school?”
“Something like that.” Julian yawned again. At this rate, there was no way he’d be able to fully participate in our all-nighter.
“What do you do?” I was curious—and also mesmerized by the graceful length of his legs as he crossed his ankles while I spoke. “Leg modeling?”
Julian, who had been moving to lean back into the couch, stumbled sideways in his seat.
Meanwhile, I was mortified at my word vomit and covered my face with my hands. “Oh my goodness.” I couldn’t look at him. “I just thought that your legs are really nice and…”
What was I saying? Men didn’t like being complimented on their appearance—especially, their legs. This was mortifying.
“I was just curious about your job,” I finished lamely.
Julian chuckled, and I lowered my hands as he regained his composure. He was sitting up now, and had his elbows braced on his knees as he watched me. “You like my legs?”
“No.” I groaned. I could never take that statement back. “Could we pretend I never said anything?” I tried to change the subject. “You should rest. Are you tired? You might want to take a nap, since you’re here early.”
He paused, looking at the couch longingly. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “It would be rude to—”
“No,” I protested, thankful for this diversion. “It’s all right. That gives me time to finalize things around here before the others arrive. And you do look tired.”
Julian studied the couch for another moment before he shot me a thankful look. “If it’s not a bother to you. I shouldn’t really sleep—I should be helping you.”
“You’ll be more helpful if you aren’t falling asleep where you sit,” I pointed out, walking toward the linen closet to pick out a throw. “I’ll have a pot of coffee ready when you wake up.”
He smiled thankfully and accepted one of the fuzzy blankets that I offered him. “Just for an hour, then wake me up.”
I didn’t intend on waking him at all, but agreed anyway.
I couldn’t take a bath with Julian in the house. What if he woke up and needed me? I couldn’t fail in my duty as hostess. So, I spent the next half an hour lounging in the kitchen, both trying to kill time and figure out dinner. I couldn’t blame Julian for forgetting to get something, since he clearly had a full schedule and was now being roped into helping me with my ghost problem.
At the same time, I felt strange. Finn never would have done something like this for me. Yet, now I had these new friends who were treating me as if they’d known me for years. Was this what friendship was supposed to be like?
The only thing I knew for certain was that I had to make this the best slumber party/ghost hunting experience they have ever had. And one requirement to get this accomplished was pure unadulterated caffeine.
I finished prepping the coffee maker, my excitement outweighing nervousness. It had been a long time since Finn and I had our last sleepover...
And once again, my thoughts drifted back to Finn. It was inevitable, considering I had known him for over half my life.
Everything about this day felt surreal. Damen had asked me to be his friend, I had gone out to lunch in a fancy public place…and Titus. There was too much going on, and I was way too emotionally exhausted to think about everything that had happened today with Finn.
I had both of my cell phones out beside each other, and it was hard to miss them in plain view on the counter. Throughout the afternoon, they had been a constant reminder of a problem I needed to address. But now there was nothing distracting me—not even the things I needed to take care of around the house.
It was hard not to compare the two devices. Not only in appearance, but also in what they symbolized.
Titus had taken the time to pick out something he thought I’d like. That action spoke volumes—even he was trying to be a better friend than Finn had ever been. And it was ironic that Titus had been right on the mark. Plus, the fact he also enjoyed cute things only made him seem more human, and less scary.
My gaze drifted toward the phone Finn had given me. It was still off—I had tried not to touch it much. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.
Pulling it to me, I sighed. It was past the time my mother would have messaged me, and I would need to respond. Other than that, I would either have many messages from Finn—or complete silence.
I didn’t know which would be worse.
The phone had barely started up before two alerts chimed from the device. Two new messages.
My mother’s message was brief—as usual. She only wanted to know how classes were going. I replied that I was studying for the evening. And I knew that would be it, there would be no other inquiries into my life.
The other message was from Finn.
Answer your damn phone.
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about—I had no missed calls. Before I could attempt to compose a response, the phone began to ring.
Finn.
My heart raced as I stared at the cell. What in the world was with this timing? I couldn’t ignore his call, though. Who knew what would happen if I dared?
“Hello?” My voice was weak, but I didn’t care. I just needed this to be over.
“Come to the door,” Finn said emotionlessly. There was a click as he disconnected just as abruptly.
I stared at my phone in disbelief; and outside of my panic, a sense of righteous fury began to swell inside. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but I latched on to it like a lifeline. Anything was better than the fear. Because I was scared of Finn’s reaction, but still…
How dare he command me around like this.
I’d come to the door, of that I was certain. And I would be calm and mature about it, too. Someone had to be the adult between the two of us.
My mind was in a haze as I stomped through the house and swung the front door open. I was not surprised to see Finn there, looking completely unashamed—and impeccable. He was furious, but I met his gaze without flinching. If it surprised him, he didn’t let it show.
He opened his mouth to speak—
“What are you doing here?” I pointed my shaking finger at him. “You…you butthead! I’m very angry with you.”
Finn’s eyes flashed dangerously, but I couldn’t remember why I cared. All of my succinct, planned arguments were of no use at the sight of his arrogant face. How dare he be angry? He was the one who’d lied to me. He was the one who was wrong.
“Did you just call me a butthead?” His voice strained, and his temper appeared to be holding by a thread. “Who do you think you are talking to?” He stepped into the entryway, bringing himself only a few inches in front of me.
I glared at his larger, taller frame. I wouldn’t be intimidated. “Who do you think you are talking to, Finn?” I threw the words back at him. He was so close I could feel the burning heat of his body. But instead of making me feel secure—like it would have before—I became more furious.
He had no right to be mad at me. I wanted to punch him in the face.
“You lied to me.” I spat out the poisonous words.
“What are you talking about?” Finn’s eyebrow twitched. “Who was that man on your phone? And
why has your phone been off? Where did you go today?”
I was seething. “Why would you lie to me?” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was a bad idea to rile him, but at the moment all logic had fled. “You were my friend. How could you do that to me? I hate you.” I pushed against his chest, needing him to leave. I didn’t want to see his stupid face ever again.
Finn’s temper snapped, flaring to life. His eyes went wild as he suddenly lunged forward and gripped my arm, shoving my back against the wall with a crash. I didn’t even have time to blink in surprise as pain exploded through my arm and back and he was in front of me again—trapping me in between him and the wall.
Usually, his anger scared me, but the fact that he had gotten physical didn’t penetrate the despair which had taken root in my mind. I only needed to understand—why would he have done those things?
“Why would you do that?” My heart broke all over again. Seeing him face-to-face made everything more real.
“What are you talking about? Why would I do what to you, Bianca?” Finn’s hand was on my face, lightly touching the bruise I barely remembered getting now. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes as he spoke. “Are you taking your medication? You seem to be confused.”
Reality slammed into me, and my heart lurched while my fury fled. “Stop asking that question.” I twisted, trying to break free. But my actions only seemed to intensify his anger.
He pressed closer, and his grip was now painful on my chin. My arm throbbed from where he had thrown me, and it was now being twisted behind me painfully.
“I can’t protect you if you lie to me.” Finn didn’t seem to notice that he was hurting me—or maybe he didn’t care. His hold tightened as he forced my head back, so there was no way I could miss the blazing inferno in his eyes. “Where did you go today, exactly?”
The power in his voice shot a chill of terror through me. I had never heard him sound like this before. He was terrifying.
I had been stupid. I’d pissed off Finn and made him lose his temper. Now I was trapped with no way to fight back.
“Let go.” I tried to hide my panic. “Please, you’re hurting me.”
“Who was that man?” He didn’t budge. I thought he hadn’t heard me. “You aren’t supposed to talk to people! It’s not safe.”
“No.” My breathing was quick and shallow. I was on the verge of a panic attack. How had I never noticed his cruelty before?
“It’s all right. You’re sick, Bianca.” Finn let go of my face. His finger traced my jaw—gentle, despite his words. “Don’t worry. It’s my job to take care of you. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll fix it. Who did you see?”
“It was no one. Just a friend.” I tried to move again. To knee him, or do anything at all in an attempt to get away.
However, he felt my movement and pressed in closer. The act caused a stab of agony to shoot through my almost-dislocated shoulder.
“Please let go.” My plea fell on deaf ears. Finn’s gentle touch turned hard again. This time, his hand gripped my throat. My pulse echoed in my ears.
I had imagined us holding hands, or hugging, for such a long time. I had yearned for his affection. But he wasn’t that kind of person. Now he was touching me, but not in a way I could have imagined.
I had only seen this look in his eyes once before. It was as if he missed seeing me entirely. “Bianca, I’m going to ask you one last time. Who did you—”
I was released the same instant Finn’s sentence was abruptly cut off, but I was unable to hold my own weight at my sudden freedom. Julian stood beside me before I could fall. His gentle arms wrapped around my waist. Once I regained my balance, he positioned me behind him. Putting his own body between Finn and me.
In the brief instant our gazes met, Julian’s eyes were soft. However, when he turned toward Finn, his demeanor was anything but.
Finn staggered to his feet—he had been thrown into a thin table, and it had broken to pieces on the floor around him. That was the least of my concerns, even though I knew that I’d have to replace it. I was still in shock—staring at Finn back from behind Julian’s arm.
Finn’s blond hair was in disarray, and he jerkily readjusted his glasses. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and I couldn’t help but to follow the line it made as it began to stain his shirt.
Had Julian punched him? I hadn’t even seen…
“What are you doing?” Julian’s voice held a tremulous ferocity that had me shaking in fear. Or maybe I was shaking because I had been physically attacked? I wasn’t sure…
Finn’s eyes were hot with violence. “Julian!” He didn’t even spare me a second glance as he glowered at the man in front of me. “What are you doing here?”
I could see Finn putting the pieces together in his mind, and could tell the exact second when everything clicked.
“It was Miles on the phone! I knew he sounded familiar.” His focus shot toward me, and his glare held the promise of retribution. “Bianca, you went to see Damen?”
Chapter Twelve
Rush
I wanted to respond, but my heart froze at Finn’s accusation.
We had already passed the point of no return, and I had never been good at confrontation. Earlier, I had foolishly feigned bravery with fury. Now, I felt none of that…
Past experience had taught me two ways to survive in such scenarios: strike first and escape, or pretend the problem didn’t exist. Neither of which I could do at the moment.
However, Julian seemed to have everything under control.
“It’s not your concern to know who Bianca spends her time with, or even what she does.” He moved more fully in front of me.
I felt cowardly—and I knew I was weak—but at the moment, I didn’t care. I could only force myself to breathe in Julian’s calming scent as I tried not to hyperventilate.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Finn snapped at Julian. “So stay out of this. This is between me and Bianca. She’s my problem. You lot have your own responsibilities to deal with—mind your own business.”
My body felt numb as I rested my head against Julian’s back, stunned as Finn’s words echoed in my mind.
His problem. He only saw me as a problem.
Julian tensed, but Finn wasn’t done yet. “Why are you here anyway, Julian Kohler? Don’t you have dead people to—”
“That’s enough.” Julian’s words crashed over the room like a wave, and a feeling of intense fury saturated the air. “Bianca is a person—not a problem, responsibility, or your own personal toy. If you cared so much about her, you would have taken her seriously from the beginning.”
“I have taken her seriously,” Finn protested, his voice slightly more subdued.
But still, I couldn’t look at him.
“I’m not sure what she’s told you,” Finn continued, regaining his confidence. “But she’s ill. She’s under a strict treatment regimen. Sometimes she makes up things for attention…”
My heartbeat sounded louder in my ears with every cruel word. Meanwhile, Julian’s demeanor had almost turned glacial in its silent, deadly fury. He moved his hand back, barely touching my arm.
The touch was cold, but I wasn’t sure who the chill was from at this moment. But then the contact broke, and he stepped away from me, moving toward Finn.
“You need to leave.” Julian pointed toward the door.
Finn made a sound that was between a growl and a curse. “You can’t tell me what to do, you—”
“Now.” Julian’s voice brooked no argument.
I couldn’t see what was happening—Julian had purposely kept himself between us—but less than a moment later, the sound of the door closing broke me from my stupor.
“Wait.” I stared at Julian’s back, disbelieving. “He actually left?”
“He had no choice.” Julian turned toward me and stepped forward, running his hands over my arms clinically. “Are you hurt?”
I was staring at the wooden door, dazed,
and almost missed his question. “What?”
“Let me help.” Julian lightly touched my arm as he guided my shaking form toward the living room and to the couch. Pain suddenly broke through my shock. Even though he barely touched me, the ache radiated throughout my body.
He let go of my arm at once, moving his hands until they hovered over my shoulders. He seemed afraid to touch me again, and I almost missed the contact.
His concern, though, would have been more heartwarming if not for the situation. I only wanted to be alone—to lick my wounds in peace. This was not impressive, and I couldn’t imagine what they had been thinking. I was so embarrassed that he had to see this—that he’d had to save me.
I was pathetic.
Besides, it was my fault, too. I had gone behind Finn’s back. If I hadn’t made him angry—
“Bianca.” Julian’s face swam in my vision. “Please, can I take a look?”
But why? If I let him do these things…if they continued to help me in these ways, I could easily become a burden and a “problem” for them now.
Julian seemed to sense my hesitation, and suddenly there was a touch under my chin, guiding my gaze up until our eyes connected. “Bianca, it’s not your fault. You aren’t a bother.”
My breath caught—how did he know what I was thinking? And if it wasn’t my fault, then why did fury still swim deep within those eyes of his?
“You’re angry at me,” I observed. I had screwed this up already.
He blinked in surprise before frowning. “Not at you.” He moved his hand as he traced his fingers over my throbbing jaw. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I don’t anger easily…” he trailed off before continuing. “When I saw what Finn was doing—heard what he was saying—it brought back memories.”
More guilt swamped me—it wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of memories. “I’m sorry.”