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I bite down on my bottom lip, shake my head.
“Then fuck it, man — I don’t want to hear about it.”
Jo grabs the shoulder of my jacket. Burberry. Thought Parks would like it.
“Yeah, but Beej—” he starts and I give him a look.
“No, Jo. She fucked me over too. She might have you all wrapped around her finger because she’s got the sad eyes that win out at everything, but I’m fucked up over it too. I just want to have fun, get loose, kiss my girlfriend at midnight—”
Jonah grimaces. “Sticking with that? The girlfriend?”
I shrug like I don’t think it’s stupid myself. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Christian stares over at me, fingers pressed into his mouth, face strained.
“What are you looking like that for?” I nod my chin at him.
“You fucked Jordan,” he tells me like I didn’t already know. “For Parks, that was Pearl Harbor.”
I frown, confused. “Okay.”
Christian pats me on the arm, his mouth pulling in this funny smile like he’s sorry for me. “Hiroshima is coming.”
I roll my eyes at them and grab him by the shoulder. “As long as you didn’t fuck her, I’m good.”
Jonah grimaces. “We’ll see.”
He hands me a tumbler of whiskey.
“You’re gonna need it.” He smacks me on the arm before he walks away.
I frown after him, confused, then wander over to Jordan and Tausie by the bar.
The set up here is insane.
Not at all how you’d think the house of London’s biggest gang lord would be — or maybe it is, I don’t know.
Whiter, more gold than you’d have thought. A lot of marble. Big double staircase from the bedrooms upstairs that spills down into a foyer — you’d be forgiven for thinking you’ve accidentally walked into a hotel. Foyer spills into one of the living rooms — there are at least four living rooms. A bar on the roof that’s tended to 24/7.
Rumour has it they have a pet tiger somewhere around here but it sounds like bullshit to me — been here a few times. I’ve never seen it.
“This place is insane—” Jordan peers around it. “What’s he like?”
“Julian?” I clarify.
“Yeah.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean, he’s a bit of a G.”
“He’s literally a G,” Taura says, bored.
I sniff. “He’s cool. Wild. Like, the stories he has, the shit he pulls. It’s insane. Like straight out of a Stratham film.”
“Really?” Jordan asks, wide-eyed.
I nod. “He’s fun. You’ll like him. Always a good time.”
“Is he dangerous?”
