Four Score

Thirteen

I’m sitting on the balcony, feet propped up on the wall in front of me, looking out to the ocean. There’s no wind this afternoon, and the water is like glass. It’s breathtaking, and it somehow calms me just being able to see it. People standing on long boards, paddling in the bay. Surfers on the shore, their boards forgotten since there are no waves. Children are building sandcastles on the shore, and in the distance, I can see the Ferris wheel turning on the pier.

So much life in front of me, people living normal, unencumbered existences. People without prices on their heads.

People who didn’t have to die to get away from the life they were born into.

I want to be one of those people, but as I listen to Jase speaking on his cell phone in the kitchen, I’m reminded yet again of the horrific existence we share. The cold reality of our families and their sins.

“Already?” Jase asks whoever’s on the phone. “He was in a friggin’ coma two days ago.” A pause. “Whatever. So, he’s at the clubhouse now?”

A spike of dread stabs into my stomach, and I look at the ground. I can’t be staring at that beautiful Ferris wheel, or the innocent children on the beach while I think about Dornan.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Jase says. I hear him toss something down on the bench, and assume it’s his phone.

I rise and enter the kitchen, almost colliding with him. We eye each other awkwardly as the waves of reality begin to crash against our thinly constructed wall of denial and hope.

“He’s awake,” Jase says grimly.

“Already?” I ask dully.

“Yesterday, actually,” Jase says. The bitterness in his voice is like poison. “I have to go to Va Va Voom to see him.”

I’m already grabbing my purse, but when I look back at Jase, he’s horrified.

“What?” I ask, alarmed.

He points at my purse. “What are you doing?”

I look down, expecting to see a spider or something on my purse, but there’s nothing.

“I’m coming with you.”

Jase’s face twists with anger. “You. Are. Not. Coming,” he growls.

I raise my eyebrows. “He’ll be expecting Sammi. If I’m not there, he’ll kill me.”

Jase shakes his head. “He’ll kill you anyway. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s a lot wrong with me,” I snap impatiently. “I think we’ve established that.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere near him, Juliette.”

I shake my head. “Jason. What did you think was going to happen? Did you think I’d just forget about it all because we had sex a couple times?”

My tone is nastier than I’d intended, but I’m livid. What did he think, that I’d abandon my vengeance so casually?

Jase bites his lip, and the next words come out with difficulty. “I fucking love you, Juliette.”

I smile despite the tension. “I fucking love you, too. But my love for you doesn’t change my hate for him.”

Jase looks dangerously close to throwing me over his shoulder and locking me in his bedroom until he can talk me into staying away from Dornan. But I won’t let him. I refuse to give up my vendetta against the Ross brothers and their demon father.

The score’s only at four. And until it’s at seven? Love will have to wait.

“You think this is funny?” Jase demands loudly. “I went to your fucking funeral. You can never forget something like that! And now you’re going to walk back in there, and expect that he’s not going to figure you out soon? He’ll kill you for real this time.”

I struggle to stay calm. “Maybe he will.” I shrug. “It’s been a risk all along, but you know what? He hasn’t found me out yet, Jason.”

“So,” Jase says bitterly. “You’re saying that your need to make him pay is more important than what we have?”

“It’s not just about me,” I counter. “Or you. Or us. It’s about my father! It’s about Mariana! They died trying to save us from this life, and we owe it to them to do everything we can to destroy that man.”

Jase’s eyes burn into me; the sadness and reluctance to let me go is almost too much to stand. I feel like I can’t breathe, especially when he puts his hands on my shoulders and begs me. “Not like this,” he says feverishly. “Please, Julz, not like this.”

It’s probably the wrong reaction, but his begging makes me so angry, I could scream. How dare he try to use what we have against me? How dare he try to stop me from claiming vengeance against the man who destroyed us all?

I see red, and regrettably, I go for the sucker punch. “He killed your mother and left her in a bathtub full of blood for you to find. You’re his son, and he did that to you?” My voice threatens to break. It’s so high and shrill. “What do you think he did to them?! I know they suffered. I know it more than I know anything.” I clutch at my chest as I think of my father and what he must have endured at the end. “He made them suffer, and now I’m going to make him suffer.”

Jase’s face is drawn, fixed, decided. “Juliette,” he warns, “If you walk out that door—”

“If I walk out that door, what?” I interrupt. “What are you gonna do, huh? Nothing, just like you did nothing for six years.” I’m nasty, and I can’t help it. “Don’t worry. Leave it up to Julz. I’ll clean up the mess that you never could.”

I yank the door open and slam it shut behind me, the loud noise and violent gesture extremely satisfying.

I’ve got Jase’s car keys in my hand, and as I stalk to his car and yank open the door, anger bubbles in my veins.

Anger, and the sweet taste of impending revenge.