Page 90 of The Hate We Breathe
“Maybe Juliet is right,” Lex admits, his fingers gripping mine so tight that I flinch. He feels it and eases his hold with a whispered apology before refocusing on the others. “If they know we aren’t going to let her go anywhere without one of us, then they are expecting her there at the meeting.”
The reality slams into me and I say what I’m sure Lex is thinking. “It would be the perfect time to kill me.”
“With all three of us there to protect you?” Gio shakes his head and steps towards me and ducks his head to look at me from beneath the long charcoal lashes that line his deep, soulful eyes. “Do you really have so little confidence in us, Jules?”
“It’s not that I lack confidence in you,” I tell him honestly. “But we do need to consider that this is a trap.”
“She’s right.” Nolan’s jaw is a tight line as he says the words, his expression one of frustrated rage.
“Then what are we supposed to do, turn back?” Gio flips to him. “At least if we’re here, we’ve got each other and Viks is right outside.”
“We can’t count on him,” Lex snaps.
“Oh, fucking Christ, come on, man!” Gio shoves his hands up through his hair, mussing the slicked-back look he’d been rocking for the formal in one movement. “Just because you don’t want to trust the man doesn’t mean he’s out to get you.” Gio jabs his finger at Lex with a growl. “He’s backed us up when we needed it and asked for nothing in return. He’s come through each and every time. What other fucking adult has done that? Eliza. That’s it.”
Lex narrows his gaze on Gio and carefully retracts his hand from mine as he steps up to Gio—the fronts of their suits brushing. “He’snotone of us,” Lex bites out.
“He’s your fucking uncle and he seems to give a shit about you,” G snaps. “Why won’t you give him a chance?”
“This is not the fucking time for this.” Nolan’s wide frame steps between the two of them, one hand on Gio’s chest and the other on Lex’s, gently nudging them apart. They go, but their eyes remain locked and angry.
My phone buzzes against the side of my boob, loud in the sudden silence, and all of the guys’ eyes land on me. With afrown, I pull it free and check the screen. Mads’ name flashes over the top. I swipe my finger over the red button with a grimace, but before I can shove the cell back into my dress, it starts vibrating again.
“Who is it?” Nolan demands, striding closer to me to look over my shoulder before I can answer.
“Mads,” I say anyway, answering Lex’s and Gio’s frowning expressions. “She never calls back-to-back like this.”
“Answer it,” Nolan suggests. “She might be here looking for you. We don’t want her to come looking for us during the meeting.”
Pressing my finger to the green button, I swipe up and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mads, can I call you back in a?—”
“Jules—” Madison’s voice halts on a strangled noise that has an alarm screaming through my head. Ice seeps into my veins. “Jules, I—” The phone crackles, her voice coming in loud one second and then far away the next.
“Mads?” I press the phone harder against the side of my head and plug my other ear as if that’ll make it easier to hear her. “What’s wrong?”
The guys seem to sense my own dread. They step closer.
“You—” The buzzing of air whips into my ear, making me wince, but I keep the phone right where it is. “—come, please. Don’t know?—”
“Come where?” I ask, followed quickly by, “Where are you, Mads?”
The true reason for my apprehension creeps out from the shadows of my mind. All this time, someone has been after me but they haven’t killed me. It’s not even the potential of my own death that scares me.
No—what petrifies me is the thought ofthem.Nolan. Lex. Gio. Mads. Roquel. Every name is a vein the stalker could sever just to watch me bleed from the inside out.
They’ve already killed twice—Morpheus and that girl, Amber. They might have framed my father and made my mother run away, and there’s something personal about that.
As Madison’s voice crackles across the line, sounding far away and uneven, tears and anger in her tone, the note the guys shared with me burns in my skull.
Whoever wrote it knew. They knew about Morpheus—what he did to me. They didn’t write it like simple information, but like an accusation. Maybe they thought I’d been willing and they killed Morpheus because they thought he meant something to me.
Amber makes no sense, though. The only thing that would even somewhat tie her to me was…the wig.She’d been wearing a blue wig. What if she wasn’t collateral at all but mistaken identity? What if whoever mistook her for me ran her over because of it?
“Juliet!” I blink as Mads’ voice rises in pitch. “Call—it’s—upstairs!”
“You’re upstairs?” I latch on to that final word. “Where, Mads?” Someone brushes my shoulder, but I jerk away. “Madison, tell me where you are!”
If this fucker killed Morpheus and a stranger without proof that they meant something to me or that they were me… what will they do when they have someone I actually give a shit about?
