Julian states, his voice hard, making me gasp with shock. “Yeah, orange will look good with your cuffs. Too bad you won’t be her when your dearest mommy goes.”
I gasp, my heart shattering in my chest at those words. They sting a lot, but before I can say anything, he pushes me back a step, then shuts the door in my face. The loud clicks and dials of the door locking also make me jump as the bitter realization sinks into me.
Not only did Shane set me up, but Julian is going to make sure I pay for something I didn’t do.
Orange really isn’t my fucking color!
18
JULIAN
It’s that devilish wink that’s sealed her fate.
I knew Mia Montague was going to a bitch, but there’s something about her bitchiness that’s so advanced, like it achieved a PhD from wherever girls like her who like to play the victim, pretending to be one thing when, in fact, they’re another sexy monster all together, just waiting to be unleashed.
For Little Minx, it’s just a matter of time.
The thing is, I don’t know where she stands or who exactly she is. Fake, yes. Mean with necessity, but a conniving player? I don’t see that in her, but I have a feeling she came with her A-game. Which means one thing for me.
I have to make sure she burns herself to the ground on a large scale, as grandiose as her entrance into my house.
There’s no way I’m going to just let her roam free in my castle, in my kingdom, living a lie about her life, her mother and every broke, shitty thing about herself.
“Well, the good news is, she’s stayed out of your way so far,” Cole chuckles, as we shoot hoops.
“It’s only been two days, jerk,” I grumble, thinking of her snooping around from Sunday then the look on her face when she was checking me out. “It won’t take long until someone leaves that house in a body bag.”
“I don’t think it’ll be her, man,” Cole says, dribbling the damn ball with a skill that brings out my competitive side. He does that shit a lot. “If I had to bet, my money would be on that girl, she’ll kill you in your damn sleep.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” I grit out but he’s fucking right. I wouldn’t put it past her to slit my throat in my sleep. Then there’s the Saturday thing. “But she might be a killer on the loose.”
“A lipstick killer?” Cole raises a brow, watching me, then in three perfectly executed twists around me, he shoots and scores.
“Yeah!!” Cheers and screams come from the bleachers as soon as Cole shoots and I almost groan in pain. I’d forgotten that we have an audience.
“Did they have to come along?” I grit out, trying my hardest not to look at Casey or her posse of popularity-loving, power hungry, nasty bitches with attachment issues, who couldn’t understand the words, ‘we’re nothing’. Or better yet, ‘I’m not your fucking boyfriend.’
Cole glances over his shoulder and waves, they scream even louder. I shoot him a look.
“What?” Cole chuckles. “Can’t handle a little emotional, mental or whatever that is, support?”
He sounds like Liam with that mess. Again, my chest tightens, and I press a hand there, thinking I need to visit him again. Yesterday he was knocked out on drugs, but I stayed the entire time. I fell asleep for a short while only to wake up with him staring at me, texting on his phone with one hand.
“Besides, you’re the one who did this, called the boys to play. You could’ve told me in confidence that we were playing hoops. Now, you’re most definitely not in the right frame of mind to actually show the fuck up.”
“I did show up,” I growl.
Lies.
“You know what I’m fucking talking about. You didn’t bring your A-game, son.”
“I am playing with my fucking A-game.” No, I’m not and Cole calls bullshit.
“Maybe your fucking fifth-grade A-game.” He shakes his head. “This is pathetic.”
And with that, Mark, one of our teammates passes him the ball and he shoots without hesitation, just to prove a fucking point.
“If you want a time out to pull yourself together or to locate your balls, just let me know.”
“Come on, J!” Casey shouts from the bleachers, her crop top revealing her tanned belly. In her mind’s eye, she thinks she looks attractive but instead she looks like a hooker on a slow night. “You can do this!”
“Even Casey’s cheering for you,” Cole mocks, laughing.