Page 37 of The Hate We Breathe
“Wait!”
The door squeaks shut behind me, locking upon impact as Allen launches himself up from his bed and comes to the face of the bars.
“Do you know who did it?” he demands.
I meet his frantic gaze, tilt my head to the side, and then, without a word, I turn and walk down the hall. He calls out to me again, demanding answers as his voice echoes off the concrete. Were it up to me, he would stay in a hovel like this for the rest of his life. Innocent or not, Allen Donovan brought Morpheus Calloway into Juliet’s life, and for that, I will never forgive him.
15
JULIET
Wind whips past me, sending my hair flying back over my shoulders as I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face against Nolan’s shoulder. The morning weather is chilly, but on the back of his bike, even with a long-sleeve shirt underneath his now stolen hoodie, it’s downright freezing.
Nolan’s wide body blocks out the worst of the cold air, keeping me from turning into a full icicle. Still, I’m grateful to know it’ll be over soon when he slows down and turns into the school parking lot.
Engine rumbling a purr between my legs like a big cat, we come to a stop next to Gio’s red Firebird. G is already out of the car and waiting against the back bumper, his arms crossed, a pair of aviators covering his eyes. As I slip off the bike and right myself, I cast him a wary glance. He looks like he didn’t sleep for shit or he’s in a sour mood—maybe both.
“You get Lex’s message?” G asks as soon as Nolan cuts the engine of the Indian.
“Yeah.” Nolan’s answer is short and sharp. I glance between the two of them as I shake out my legs and arms to stop the tingling sensation that always happens after being on the back of Nolan’s motorcycle.
“What’s up with Lex?” I ask. “Where is he?”
Nolan pockets his keys and swings an arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side. “He’s visiting someone today.”
I grunt under the impact of his movements, but don’t let up. “Who?” I demand.
“Don’t worry about it, Princess,” Nolan says, waving for G to join us as we start walking towards the sports building.
I halt and when Nolan tries to urge me forward again, I dig in my heels and glare at him. “Not a chance in hell,” I growl. “Where the fuck is Lex and who is he visiting?”
Both men exchange a look and it only serves to piss me the fuck off. I narrow my eyes on the two of them. “What are you hiding?”
“We’re not hiding?—”
“Bullshit,” I cut Nolan off before he can finish the lie, turning to Gio. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?”
Despite his earlier somber expression, my words make a smile break out over his face. “I’d love to have you beat me off, Prep Girl.”
“That’s not what I said.” I remain in place for a moment more, waiting, staring. When neither of them offers me an answer, I nod as if I’d expected as much. “Got it.”
“Got… what?” Gio asks, his amusement slipping.
“Obviously, you’re keeping secrets again,” I say casually, dropping my arms as I take a step backwards. Almost as if instinctively drawn, both Nolan and Gio move forward at the same time. My smile is all teeth and anger. “So, I’ll just take matters into my own hands.”
“Juliet.” Nolan’s voice dips into gravel territory, going so low that I know it’s a warning. I don’t care. We’ve been through this and I’m not doing it again.
“Nolan.” I mimic his tone, dropping it before my next words. “We don’t keep fucking secrets from each other—or did we not agree to that?”
He grits his teeth, but doesn’t respond. I take another step back, but Gio bursts forward, nearly tackling me as if he’s worried I’ll turn and run at any second. Run? No. Break the windows of his car? Yeah, probably. Stab a pen into the back wheel of Nolan’s tire? Absolutely.
They aren’t the only psychos here.
“Okay,” Gio says quickly. “Lex is meeting with your dad. He went to the prison today.”
I go still, my brow furrowing. “What?” I snap. “Why?”
Gio groans and his forehead comes down on my shoulder as his arms wrap around me. “Fuck, I don’t know. He didn’t say why. Just texted us at the ass crack of dawn to let us know he wouldn’t be at practice or school,” he admits.
