You Betrayed Me (The Cahills #3) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,138

up for adoption even though she herself had been estranged at one time from her mother, their grandmother, Marla Amhurst, who had married a Cahill—James’s father!

“So he’s not related to us?” Sophia had asked, intrigued, and really, James was handsome. She’d seen pictures Julia had on her phone.

“Not really. His mother is half-sister to our grandmother or something like that. It’s no biggie. But the point is, he’s rich, rich, rich. Going to inherit mega millions, and I’d like to be a part of it. I thought you might want to also.”

Sophia had stared down at a picture of James.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Well, that’s fine.” Traffic had begun to move again, and as they inched across the dark water, Sophia had thought of her life, how lonely and empty it had been, and now she and Julia could be together.

So Julia had dropped it for a while, but as the weeks had bled into months and they’d become closer, Sophia had slowly decided her sister was right. Julia had sworn no one would get hurt, not really. They were just reclaiming what they should have gotten in the first place.

Eventually, Sophia had agreed to go along with the plan. After all, it was all about family, wasn’t it? Finally, she had a sister and not just a sister but an identical twin! Everything would work out. Julia’s enthusiasm had been contagious. Also, the more time they spent together, the more like Julia Sophia became. They could finish each other’s sentences and thought so much alike it was weird—but in a good way. And Sophia eventually came around to her sister’s way of thinking. Hell, yes, they were entitled to a piece of the family fortune!

Then she’d met James.

At the heart of the scheme.

At the heart of everything.

How the hell had that happened?

And then there was something else . . .

As much as she hated the idea, she had a sneaking suspicion that Julia had something to do with what had happened to Phoebe, but she wouldn’t go there—at least not yet. Certainly, her sister couldn’t have tried to kill the old bat. Sure, the old lady was a snoop and irritating, but . . . seriously, her twin wouldn’t go that far.

Or would she?

The uneasy feeling persisted, because though she’d tried to convince herself differently, Sophia had noticed a darker side to her twin. She hated to think of it as evil; that wasn’t it really, but Julia was quick to get mad, her temper explosive, and little things irritated her. Worse yet, she was always suspicious, and she’d taken to the idea that Phoebe Matrix was onto them, like she was a master spy or something. Julia had mentioned that living here would be a lot easier if Phoebe wasn’t around . . . well, that was true, but so what?

Sophia chewed her lower lip, refused to think of the time that Julia, in California, had berated a coffee barista for sloshing coffee on her, yelling at the girl, calling her an “idiot,” and threatening to sue the shop, causing such a scene that the girl, all of sixteen, maybe, crumpled into tears and ran away from her station with all the patrons and workers in the coffee shop looking on. Only when the girl was completely humiliated had Julia been satisfied. Another time, a feral cat had made the mistake of crawling into the open window of her car and sunbathing. Julia had discovered it and threw open the door, finding an umbrella to shoo the skinny thing out. She’d landed a blow, and the cat had turned and hissed, ears back, needle-like teeth showing before jetting across the street and nearly being run over by a passing pickup. “Too bad the truck missed,” Julia had remarked, eyeing the feline as it skittered down an alley. For the next two hours, she’d been in a dark mood. And how about all the times Julia had claimed that life wasn’t fair, that she’d gotten a bad deal, that she would “get back” at anyone who crossed her. She’d gotten a look in her eyes that had actually caused goose pimples to rise on Sophia’s skin. No matter how many times Sophia had warned her to “calm down” or “chill out,” Julia hadn’t. In fact, once, when discussing how unfair the situation was, Julia, who had been chopping onions with a vengeance in the kitchen, had nicked herself, blood dripping, onion juice getting into the cut. She’d whirled,