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I laugh and rub my forehead.
“What I don’t get is why?” Julian asks, shaking his head. “What did you get out of it?”
I look at Marco, because I’m curious about that too.
Before he can answer, the elevator doors open and Lola storms into the room. She walks straight past us and over to Louis, her long, dark hair hanging halfway down her back.
“You stupid fucking idiot.”
She screams at Louis, hitting him repeatedly over the head. Even Alberto is trying to calm her down, which is amusing on its own. I glance at Julian. All traces of humor disappear as he stares darkly at his fiancée.
“Are you and Lola…?”
“I’m not sure,” he admits. “Do you think she knew anything?”
I watch her for a second, not sure what to say to him. The way she’s reacting? I think she did, but I don’t know how much. She’s more upset that he got them caught than horrified her brother and father were forcing women into prostitution.
“It’s hard to tell,” I finally say.
He’s silent for a moment, then he walks over and grabs her hand. She glares at him, her eyes flashing.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
“Talk?” she repeats, laughing in his face. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Are you kidding me?” he laughs.
“Jesus, Julian, take the fucking hint,” Lola rants, throwing her arms up. “You’re the last thing on my mind at the moment.”
“We’re getting married tomorrow.” He frowns at her. “Even if it’s not today—”
“Not today?” she laughs. “Try not ever. You think this marriage was real? Of course it wasn’t. I said yes because I had to, because my father was right all along about him being a cop. Keep your enemies closer and all that?”
I freeze, because she’s glaring at me. Julian frowns and glances my way, then he laughs.
“What? He’s not a cop,” he says, dismissing the idea as ridiculous.
“Really?” Lola snarls. “Are you sure about that?” She sighs and takes a deep breath. “Just go, Julian. You really don’t want to be anywhere near this family when they start digging a little deeper.”
“You want me to go? Fine. I’m gone.”
He turns around, his glare leveling on me. I shift awkwardly.
Shit.
“He doesn’t look happy. I’m guessing he didn’t know you’re a cop?” Marco asks.
I glance at Marco, still struggling to figure out how he fits into all of this. He gives me a sympathetic smile.
“If it's any consolation, I know how you’re feeling.”
Then it dawns on me.
“You’re undercover too.”
He nods. “I’ve been working this from the other side, gathering evidence against my uncle.”
Julian stalks over to us. He glares at me.
“You have some explaining to do,” he mutters, his voice dark.
I walk over to where Julian sits, resting his head in his hands. I feel for him. I really do. He’s angry, upset and embarrassed and he’s no doubt going to be firing all of that at me. I sit down, my body tense. Fuck, this is messed up. He looks up and glares at me, his eyes dark.
“I should’ve told you—”
“You’re damn right you should have told me,” he growls. His head lifts and his eyes meet mine. “Did you know she was playing me?”
“God, no. Not for a second,” I promise him. “If I knew that, I would’ve …”
“What?” he snaps. “Lied some more?”
I stare at him, wishing I could explain this to him. But how do I put it into words when nothing is going to make up for it? Saying sorry isn’t going to undo this mess. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t change the fact that she was using him. Sure, that’s not my fault, but if it makes him feel better to blame me, then he can put this on me as much as he wants.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shrugging helplessly.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “I’ve been hearing that a lot …” He sighs, takes a deep breath and then looks at me. “So. You’re a cop. Fucking hell, Fre…Adam. Are you going to arrest me for smoking weed that time last month?”
I chuckle. “No. You’re good.”
He nods, then sits forward. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were close.”
“We were. Are,” I say, stopping to correct myself. “This had nothing to do with trust,” I say to him. “If Alberto thought for a second you knew anything …” I stop for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “If anything happened to you because of my selfishness, I never would’ve forgiven myself. Telling you would’ve been just that. All it would have achieved was making me feel less guilty.”
He nods, then stands up. I watch him as he slowly saunters off, not sure whether to go after him or not. Then he turns around.
“I need some time to get my head around everything,” he says. “I’ll call you.”
“Sure. Hey Julian?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you’re angry, I just want you to know if you need to talk about anything …” I pause, not sure whether to bring it up or not. “I know the baby must be a huge shock and now this crap with Lola … I’m here for you if you want to—”
