Sinners & Saints (Sinners & Saints #1) (9 page)

           
“You’re
fucking with me.”

           
“No,”
I shake my head. “If I win though…” I come closer to him, my body barely
touching his. “I get to undress you… and everything I take off of you… I get to
keep for my own personal collection.”

He slowly licks his lips. God, I love
it when he does that.

“Fine,” he gives his consent.

           
I
place my hands behind my back and count off. “One… two… three… four… five.” I
pull out my fists, palms down. He carefully stares at them, but seeing it’s a
win-win, he goes ahead and picks my left. I open it, revealing nothing. It’s
cruel of me, but while I was counting, I slid the silver dollar back into my
back pocket.

           
He
sighs in arrogance and smirks in victory. “Guess you’ve won.”

           
“I
guess so.” My heart races as I move closer towards him. I place delicate
fingers on the hem of his shirt. I look at him, slyly grinning and the corners
of his mouth start to turn up in anticipation. Too bad I’m just teasing him. I
let go of the hem and place my hands on his stomach, gliding them up to his
chest that feels very nice and hard. I move further up to his neck. His lips
part and his breathing becomes ragged, matching mine. The corners of his mouth
begin to flatten as I move up to his face, placing my hands flat on his cheeks.
I look him in the eye through his sunglasses and slowly exhale. “I’m going to
undress
you
.” I tell him the truth.

I daringly remove the sunglasses from
his face, revealing the same eyes August brightened me with earlier. “There it
is.” He stares at me with a blank expression. Nose narrow and perfect, lips
plush and pink, he’s beautiful and his eyes
—
one green, one blue… the contrast is very fitting for him.
He has two sides to him and now I realize that I want to discover both.

           
I
smile broadly and his brow creases. There’s one emotion.

           
“I’m
going to hold onto these for a while,” I tell him. “You could use a break from
the dark. See it as a holiday.”

           
I
walk away, leaving him with his soul wide open for the world to see.

Hugo

She took my fucking glasses. Bitch.

5

JULIET

“So what is it with Hugo anyway? Is he
really…?”

           
“An
arsehole?” Jordana finishes my question. She gives me a sly smile before
continuing. “You’re really fond of him, aren’t you?”

           
“I’m
just curious. I took his sunglasses.”

           
“What?”
Poppy peaks her head out from behind the curtains of the dressing room. “He
doesn’t let anybody do that.”

           
“Well,
maybe he’s fond of me?” I sip the glass of complimentary champagne with
confidence.

           
“Oh
no, there isn’t a maybe. He is,” Jordana declares. I feel excited like a
pathetic girl gets when the boy she likes like her. “Hugo is very complicated,
literally the definition of it. He is capable of feelings, but I wouldn’t bet
too much on him exploring them. Remember. He doesn’t do love.”

           
“That’s
jumping the gun, isn’t it? I’m not trying to marry the lad.”

           
She
squints her eyes at me. “You seem like the type that easily would jump the gun
if you thought it was the right thing to do.”

           
I
can’t even defend myself. She’s totally right.

           
“Well,
Hugo is definitely a loaded gun,” I say as one of the sales clerks comes and
pours us another glass of champagne.

           
“Yes,
he is, but he wasn’t always like that. I guess you can say he was in
transition. Still saw a smile from him, showed his affection for August out in
the open, but that faded every day until he became who he is now. I can’t say
that I blame him. When Hugo arrived from boarding school, it wasn’t on good
circumstances. ”

           
“What
do you mean?”

           
She
looks at me hesitantly. “You know that his brother Gabriel is dead right?”

I nod yes.

“The reason why he came here was to
look after August after Gabriel killed himself.” My mouth and heart drop.
“Yeah, he shot himself in Scarlett’s room… the room where you are sleeping.”

           
“Holy
fuck,” I mumble to myself.

           
“Holy
fuck is right.”

           
“Why
Scarlett’s room? Were they lovers too?”

           
“Yep,
they were. All the original Sinful Saints
—
Michelson,
Noel Rochester
—
they all
were fucking her, sharing her, and sharing their evil ploys. Everyone at school
feared them. They just loved fucking with people. Chad, he was such a fucking
creep.
 
Last I heard he’s living in
the ghetto because his dad cut him off because of his drug addiction. Noel
Rochester left when Hugo got there. He attended Harvard and changed his ways, I
suppose. When Hugo arrived, Scarlett basically created a carbon copy of his
older brother, but according to her… better.”

“I knew I wasn’t overthinking those
family photographs,” I say.

“No one knows why Gabriel killed
himself, but everyone assumes that it was because he fell in love with Scarlett
and couldn’t handle the fact that she didn’t love him back. Hugo’s ignorance of
love is what makes him better. He has feelings, but no love
—
only tolerance,” she says, rolling her
eyes. “Whatever the fuck that means.”

           
“What
about August? He can’t be serious to say he doesn’t love his own twin.”

           
“Oh,
you can argue with him on that, but he will claim only sympathy and obligation
towards his brother.”

           
“How
could he?”

           
“Easy,
they are identical twins. Same height, same hair color, they both have
heterochromia for Christ sakes…”

           
“They’re
sick?” Poppy interrupts peeking her head again from behind the curtain, a wary
look on her face.

           
Jordana
smacks her lips. “It’s the reason why they both have different eye colors,
Poppy. They’re not sick.”

           
“Oh,”
she shrugs and disappears back behind the curtain.

           
“But
yeah,” Jordana continues. “They have all that yet only one of them came out
with a brain development disorder.”

           
“Wow.”
I take a long sip of my drink savoring it along with Hugo’s reality. “I mean,
it’s amazing how he is to me... I see his potential, but given an ass of a
father, dead brother, he’s given up.”

           
“That’s
just not it. Gabriel killed himself knowing the promise that was made between
them. Hugo told me before he became this complete shutdown. Their mother killed
herself.” I didn’t think my heart could hurt more for Hugo, but it does. “Hugo
witnessed her jump off the balcony of their condo when he was little. Hugo is
literally the definition of a kid who’s been handed fucked up cards. Us, we are
spoiled and privileged, but if not both at least one of our parents actually
love us… they’re just too ignorant to show it like they should. Hugo’s father
has always been a son of a bitch. His affairs are what made his mother sick and
want to kill herself. Hugo has hated him ever since. I swear one more snap from
his father, Hugo will seek revenge on him.”

           
“I
feel like I’m in a seventeenth century literature novel.”

           
“That’s
a good way to put it… except the author is obviously not Jane Austen.”

           
“More
like Emily Bronte,” I say.

           
Jordana
lightly laughs then becomes crabbed as she sighs, staring at the curtain of the
dressing room. “For the love of Ivy, Poppy, please pick a dress.”

           
Poppy
steps out from behind the curtain in a pink puffy dress with her hands on her
hips.

           
“I
love all of them,” she says in despair.

           
“Then
buy all of them,” Jordana suggests.

           
“Daddy
says I need to watch my spending.”

           
“Well,
which one is the one you can’t live without?” I ask.

           
“Well,
the Marc Jacobs one is really cute. Then there’s the Vera Wang. Also the Chanel
because I have these shoes that will go so well with them,” she thinks to
herself. “I’ll just get the top three then.” She giggles and twirls her body.

           
“Is
she always like this?” I whisper to Jordana.

           
“Yep.
I sometimes have to take a Valium to keep my fucking sanity intact.” Jordana
combs her fingers through her hair and turns her head. Her eyes are still and I
follow her gaze to a girl staring at us in shock before slowly approaching us.

           
“Jordana,”
she says then looks at Poppy. “Weird girl.”

           
“Margaret
Jacobs,” Jordana addresses her. “My, what a lovely surprise.”

           
“I’m
here to find a dress for my father’s charity function.”

           
Jordana
leans back amused. “Really? Your father? Charity? For who? Westboro Baptist
Chruch? He does know the hell raisers for the lord think politicians are going
to burn in hell with the rest of us, right?”

           
“No,”
she snaps. “To the AIDS research. He wants to find a cure for the people that
get tainted by your kind.”

           
“Seriously?”
Jordana laughs it off, but I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Even if I didn’t
know that this is Jordana’s secret lover, I would definitely be able to tell
that this girl was indeed a muffer by her forced crude remark.

           
As
if she said nothing wrong, she smiles at me so genuinely that it could make me
forget that it ever happened.

           
“Margaret
Jacobs.” She stretches out her hand for me to shake.

           
“Juliet
Spears.”

           
“Oh!”
Her eyes light up. “The daughter of Charles and Jessica Spears. Your family is
known for their great contribution to the growing society in the United
Kingdom, especially your father’s wonderful work under her Majesty.” It sounds
like she read this shit off a brochure or something

           
“Yes,
they are very wonderful,” I say nervously.

           
“You’ll
be attending Columbia, right?”

           
“Yes,
where do you go to school?”

           
“Sarah
Lawrence.”

           
I
hold in my amusement. “Oh, the same as Jordana?”

           
“Yes.”
She glances nervously at Jordana then back at me. “But we run in different
social circles.”

           
“Yes,
of course,” Jordana says, staring up and down at the poor girl. “But every once
in a while we tend to cross paths.”

           
Margaret’s
eyes yell run and her body stiffens like a Buckingham Palace guard.

           
“I
must be leaving now,” she quickly says.

           
“But
you just got here,” Poppy says passing the sales clerk her gold card.

           
“And
you haven’t looked around enough to see if there is anything you like.” Jordana
emphasizes the word like as if it is the definition of sex. It amazes me that
everything she and Hugo say is in an effortless seductive tone.

           
“It
doesn’t take me long to figure out what I want. I can sense dreadfulness in a
minute,” Margaret sneers at Jordana then smiles back at me. “Juliet, lovely to
meet you. I hope this summer we see more of each other at formal events.”

           
“I
look forward to it,” I respond and we watch as she nervously walks out of the
store. With my jaw wide, I look at Jordana who is laughing a little. “She came
here to see you, didn’t she?”

           
“Yes,
I texted her telling her I had to cancel our quick pillow session. Told her
where I was going, knew she would show up.” she sighs in amusement. “I think
I’ve driven her mad.”

           
“So
at Sarah Lawrence you two are more than enemies.”

           
“We
live in the same dorm.”

           
“Knowing
you people for only a day tells me that’s not a coincidence.”

           
 
“Nope,” Poppy giggles and sits on the
couch with us, excited to share the origin story. “In high school, Jordana
always flirted with Margaret and prom night Margaret snapped and finally awoke
the sexual beast within her.”

           
I
laugh and shake my head.

           
“We
had sex in a limo and of course she freaked out, declaring that it would never
happen again, but once I found out we were attending the same college, I saw
the opportunity,” Jordana informs.

           
“You
get off on driving her into a stalker?” I ask.

           
“I
like to think I am giving back to all the queers, lesbians, and minorities by
screwing the daughter of the future Republican candidate for the United States
Presidency.”

           
“My
dad hates him by the way,” I tell them. “He is absurd if he thinks he can win
an election in this day and age with views like that.”

           
“Absurd
is right, but Steven Jacobs has always been an idiot. He claims he isn’t a
racist yet talks bout the minorities’ natural genetic mentality to be barbaric
when it comes to riots due to them not getting over the past of being oppressed
and their current circumstances. Also he believes that gay people have a mental
disorder. He’s actually donating to a study conducted on it. He’s a fucking
piece of shit and if it gets out that his daughter catches for the other team,
it would obliterate him.”

           
“And
that’s what you want to do?”

           
“I’m
not that cruel.”

           
“I
think she actually likes Margaret,” Poppy insists.

           
“I
agree,” I say, grinning at Jordana. She looks away trying to hide the truth,
but I see it. She’s got it bad.