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"But it happened! He has to pay."
"I'm not saying it didn't happen, but look at history. Politicians get away with everything. A sexual assault claim against his son, not even him, will do nothing. Oliver practically has his foot in the White House already."
"So we just let Andrew slide?" My teeth are gritted. I’ll never let that happen!
"No," he responds sharply. "We need to find another way to bring him down. Give me time to dig deeper. The cameras in her apartment will get Andrew a few years behind bars, but knowing his dad, that will likely only result in a slap on the wrist. I need to make sure it was even Andrew who had them installed. Are you sure it's not—”
I cut him off, "It's nothim," referring to the other man watching Poppy—the man Theo owed a favor to.
I feel like dirt. Poppy was honest with me, yet here I am, still lying. Covering up a secret that isn't even my own.
"I will tell her, but I can never find the right time. Now certainly isn't," I admit.
"Perfect timing doesn't exist. The stars don't align for us, Julian; we have to make plans, and eventually, we have to act before someone else does. I know you love her. I see it, and I hear it in your voice. Don't let Theo's mistake stain your relationship," My uncle replies, speaking like someone in the CIA.
I grab my shoulder, now healed from the injury, and rub it. "I won't. I'll tell her soon."
"I think our best bet is the senator's son Oliver wanted Andrew to kill. That's something that can't be as easily wiped away. But Julian, promise me you won't act rashly."
"I never act recklessly," I retort. My actions are driven by passion, not impulse.
"Julian," Uncle Dan scolds me, sounding more like my dad, "We have the power of the unknown on our side, but it's slipping away. If it was Andrew who placed those cameras, he is going to know they were found. This can work in our favor. Andrew's obsessed, and now his line is cut off. He's going to be desperate and desperate men fuck up. Don'tyoufuck up, Julian? Let Andrew trap himself."
"And what if you don’t find anything to hang him with? What if he slips the snare? What then?"
"You see, Julian, that was a stupid question to put out into the open. That could be used and twisted against you. Leave this up to me," Uncle Dan hisses, then he ends the call.
He’s right; lucky for me, I know his phone isn’t tapped, but shouting out statements like that could backfire for me. Uncle Dan knows as well as I do the Sterling men won’t let Andrew and his father get away with this, evidence or not. I just have to be smart if the case is the latter.
Chapter 9
Harper
"Your face is turning blue," Julian softly says.
I reach up and touch my jaw. That's because I can't breathe. I open my mouth to try, but instead of inhaling, I do nothing.
"Breathe," Kent whispers, his hand touching my shoulder.
How can I breathe when Poppy has been buried alive with all of this for years? How can I breathe?
I never liked Andrew, but Poppy was happy, so I tried to be happy for her. I watched Andrew trying to drive a wedge between Poppy and me, but he ultimately saw how futile it was. I would never back down.
Andrew and I had this unspoken agreement to avoid each other. It was like Poppy was our child in a divorce. I got her certain days, and Andrew had his days.
I drop my hand and clench my stomach. "I never went to Andrew’s parties because I hated him," I whispered. I also never went because, during those parties, I snuck over and saw Peter.
Guilt fills me to the brim, thickening my throat and making me feel like I want to vomit. Nothing comes out; I just shove it all deeper inside, like the other secrets I’ve kept from Poppy.
"He’ll pay," Kent whispers. Nothing is playful about his tone; he sounds more like Julian, serious and lethal.
When Julian called me over, Kent was with me. I could see from Julian’s face that what he had to tell me was going to shift the earth under my feet. I've been running for so many years, sprinting away from emotions, going from one fling to another, so I didn't form attachments. It seems the soles of my shoes have worn out because I can't run, not even if I wanted to.
I don't want to.
Poppy needs help. I need help. We each have a Sterling man trying to help us.
As soon as Julian said, 'Poppy needs me to tell you something,' I knew it was going to feel like another death. Kent stood to leave, but I grasped his hand tighter. He stayed and listened just as I did. Motionless but still seething like a volcano.
