บททั้งหมดของ Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers : บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The line outside the club stops around the corner of the street, in front of a fast-food restaurant that Marcus had insisted we stop at to get some wings. Strobe lights flash from inside the building, dancing across the asphalt road, where cars are scarce because of the sheer number of people packed outside. “Man,” Marcus sighs. “I thought we were early.” He drags a hand through his hair. “We might not get in.” Truth be told, I don’t want to go inside. I’m tired, exhausted, with my feet throbbing from moving around all afternoon and evening. The slushie place was fun—and they had amazing pizza, as Shane said, but then we went to a studio owned by one of Marcus’s friends, where I found out that he was an upcoming artist. He didn’t sound half-bad, but by the tenth retake, my ears were already bleeding. And now, this. I tuck my lips together, muffling a yawn. Shane turns, his brows furrowing in worry. “Hey…” he murmurs. “You okay? We can call it a night if you want

He saved me. I’d thought, all this time, that Adrian tore my family apart. I accused him of taking the only thing I had left. My freedom. “I knew about the money,” I mutter, absently tapping on my thigh, “I told him I was going to stay as long as it took to repay it.” The corners of his mouth lift. “I know you think he’s holding you hostage, but my brother could’ve kept you in one of his many houses, with an army of bodyguards to make sure you didn’t leave. He’s done a few unsavory things to people who cross him.” “You didn’t ask me to.” Adrian’s low, rough voice slips through my mind. Back then, I believed him when he said he would’ve killed Gerald. Now, it sounds like a promise. I’ll kill him if you ask. I won’t fail you. “Pineapple for you.” Gio appears out of nowhere, holding a steaming flat tray of pizza. He drops it in front of Julian with a disapproving tsk. I get a combination of mouth-watering toppings and a pleasant smile. “I hope you like it.” “I’m sure I

Julian lets out a low whistle the second I appear at the top of the stairs. “Whew,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “My brother’s lucky he saw you first.” A flush creeps into my cheeks as I gather the hem of my dress carefully, making my way down before my heels kill me. His gaze drags over the red fabric. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Red was definitely the right choice. Way better than yellow.” I laugh softly. “You’re weirdly invested in this.” “That’s because I watched Adrian lose his mind over it.” Julian jogs up the stairs to meet me halfway, offering his arm dramatically. “You were at school, and this man dragged me through, like, twenty stores.” My brows pull together. “Adrian picked this dress?” “Oh, he absolutely picked the dress.” Julian sounds far too entertained by it. “Nothing was good enough. Too bright. Too plain. Too much. Too little.” He lowers his voice mockingly. “‘She won’t like that shade.’ ‘That fabric looks cheap.’” A strange feeling settles in my chest.

“Are you okay?” I read Adrian’s lips, making out his words. But the ringing in my ears drowns out the sound of his voice. My heart is racing so fast I can barely breathe without forcing the air in and out of my lungs. My head is racing, and my body is shaking uncontrollably. I open my mouth to speak—to tell him about Julian, because the gunshot we heard could’ve been him, but he gathers me in his arms, leading me to a car that pulls up minutes after the first move drove away. “Sit.” I don’t hear the word, but he gently pushes on my shoulder, urging me in. I shake my head frantically as I grab his arm to stop him from leaving. “You’re safe. You’re safe.” He repeats the words, glancing over his shoulders as people come rushing out of the building in a flurry of panic and haste. There’s no sign of Julian. I struggle with all my might, forcing and begging my brain and tongue to cooperate. “Julian!” His name bursts out of me. Adrian turns, his brows furrowing sha

Julian clears his throat. “Ahem. I think I’ll wait outside so you two can talk.” I don’t look at him. Adrian doesn’t, either. I take a deep breath as the door closes, feeling the heat of his gaze as it clouds the room. “It was my fault,” I launch into my explanation before he can speak, “so I should be the one to fix it.” “You?” His brows arch sharply as he crosses the room in angry strides. “Did you meet up with the man Gerald wanted to sell you off to, agree to be drugged with a black-market drug, while planting the Russians to ambush me?” He bites the words out one by one, his eyes darkening and his voice rough. “Did you tell him the only way to stop Julian from tearing the head off his body for laying a hand on you was to kill him?” I shake my head slowly, the fight—that I didn’t have in the first place—in me dying. My chest tightens as his gaze softens, his hand closing around mine. I bite my lip, fighting tears as his thumb strokes my inner palm, soothing the ache in