“So,” Julian hisses in response. “Dexter doesn’t appreciate his toys consorting with the enemy.”
“The enemy?” I repeat, rolling my eyes. “He’s hardly a fucking villain. Besides, you’re all Firstborns. Aren’t you supposed to have a gang of some sort? Why would Easton be an outsider? And I’m no longer engaged to Dexter, in case you forgot. I don’t owe him anything.”
The two boys exchange knowing looks, but neither of them explains the mystery to me.
“Look, I need to get to my next class,” I mutter, pushing my bag higher up on my shoulder. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, or are you going to let me go now?”
A noise outside disturbs us, and the boys glance toward the small window pane in the door.
“I’ll go check,” Lai offers. “Keep an eye on her.”
He leaves us alone in the room, sending shivers down my spine. Julian scares me. There’s something about him that feels almost sinister. Calculating. He makes me afraid.
But what he doesn’t know is that I have something on him now, and maybe this is the perfect time to remind him that I have some power after all.
He doesn’t seem to notice the thoughts racing through my head, approaching me and lazily grabbing a tendril of my hair that’s escaped the bun I piled on top of my head this morning.
“I like you better with your hair down,” he tells me.
“All the more reason to keep it up,” I mutter.
He laughs, then tugs on the hair until more and more strands escape the pins holding them in place. He starts tugging them out, and I stand there, waiting for the perfect moment to tell him all the things I know.
“You remember the party at your place, Julian?” I ask him, and he nods absent-mindedly, wrapping his fingers around my hair.
He starts tugging on them, more and more painfully. He doesn’t seem satisfied until I wince in pain.
“That hurts,” I remind him, but he merely shrugs in response with a wicked grin playing on his face.
“I know. I like hurting you.”
“Seems kinda unhealthy,” I say, my heart hammering in my chest because I know I’m about to spill the first secret I found out from Lily Anna’s diary. “I wonder where you learned all those bad habits. Maybe from your parents?”
His eyes darken, and he hisses at me, “What the fuck do you know about my parents?”
“Oh, not much,” I purr with innocence. “I do know that they haven’t always treated you the way they should though.”
He narrows his eyes at me when I make a comical sad face.
“Poor little Julian. I bet you were so cute as a little kid, too. I can hardly imagine how anyone could hurt you the way your parents did.”
“Fuck you, little girl,” he suddenly snarls at me. “You don’t know shit, don’t pretend like you do.”
“Oh, I do,” I say. “Or at least, the girl before me did.”
He pales at this, and I take my chance, striding forward and smirking in his ridiculously handsome face.
“Poor baby,” I mutter, allowing my fingertips to wander over his chiseled face. “How scared were you when they just left you in the family crypt? Did anyone come to you when you cried out? How old were you when they did that to you, Julian?”
His bottom lip juts out, but he doesn’t answer. I can tell I’ve struck a nerve though. His body is straining with the effort to hold it all together. I don’t give a shit how badly I’m hurting him. It’s nothing compared to everything the boy has put me through.
“You must’ve been really tiny,” I sigh dramatically. “They must be sick, sick people to do that to a little boy, Julian.”
He lets out a sigh, and the sound is so heartfelt it almost breaks my heart. Almost.
“Maybe that’s why you still can’t sleep anywhere but in that crypt,” I finish sweetly. “Maybe that’s why you’re so fucking broken on the inside, Julian. You know, no matter how pretty your face is, I can see the rotten person you are beneath. And I’m not the only one. Everyone can fucking see.”
He flinches when I touch his lips, seemingly frozen to the spot. I can tell I’ve hurt him, and while it should please me make impact, I find myself regretting my words.