CHAPTER 56: CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

Catherine’s POV

A knock came barely a minute after I tossed my phone aside. Three short, impatient taps. I laughed, already knowing who it was.

I didn’t need a psychic to tell me that was Julian. He was obviously here to get me to delete the picture.

Besides, only one person in this house knocked on my door like he was doing me a favor.

"Julian, you better go away!" I shouted, not moving from my bed.

He didn’t respond. After a silence that lasted for two seconds, the knob turned and of course, he walked in.

He stood at the door in his grey sweatpants and an expression that said I was about to be murdered.

"Delete it," he said simply.

I blinked. "Delete what?" I asked, pretending I had no idea of what he was talking about.

"The picture."

"Oh," I said with exaggerated innocence. "The picture." I crossed my legs. "But what picture?"

His jaw tightened. "Catherine."

"Julian." I mirrored his tone.

He sighed and shut the door behind him, striding toward me like a predator that’d finally found its prey. "I’m not playing. Delete the damn photo you sent to me."

"Why?" I tilted my head. "You looked cute in it."

"Cute?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You drew pervert on my forehead."

"Technically true," I said with a smirk. "Why should honesty be punished?"

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath before stepping closer. The mattress dipped when he placed one knee on the bed.

"I’m serious, Wildcat. Delete it."

I held the phone closer to my chest. "No, I’ll not delete it. Especially if you keep calling me that name."

He used his thumb to wipe his nose, before staring directly into my eyes. "Do you have any idea how annoying you can be?"

"No but I’m sure it’s the square root of how annoying YOU can be."

He rested his forehead on his palm and I wanted to laugh. He must be really fed up.

"Give me your phone."

"Make me," I challenged and sat up.

His eyes turned dark, sharp, and full of dangerous amusement. "You really want to play that game?"

I grinned. "I live for it."

He reached for me, fast but I was faster. I slid off the bed and darted toward the door, laughing. "Catch me if you want it, moron!"

"Catherine!"

His voice followed me as I sprinted down the hallway, heart pounding, the thrill of it all buzzing in my veins.

I turned a corner and accidentally ran straight into Lucy.

"What the hell!" she gasped as the impact nearly sent her backward. Her cup of smoothie splattered across the floor.

"Sorry!" I said quickly, catching my breath. "I didn’t—"

But of course, Lucy’s eyes immediately widened in performative outrage. "You did that on purpose!"

"What?" I frowned. "No, I didn’t!"

Before I could even explain, Julian appeared behind me, breathing hard, eyes still on me.

"Catherine!"

Lucy turned dramatically to him. "She pushed me, Julian! Look!" She gestured to the spilled drink on her dress. "It’s everywhere! What is wrong with this girl?!"

I stared at her, speechless for a second, then anger flared through me like a lit match. "You liar!"

"Excuse me?" she shot back, her voice shrill. "How dare you..."

That was it. The final straw. Before my brain could talk me down, my palm did the thinking for me.

A hot slap dashed on her left cheek.

The sound echoed through the hallway.

Lucy’s head jerked to the side, her hand flying to her cheek as if she couldn’t believe it happened.

I pointed at her, as my voice shook with rage. "Don’t you ever tell lies about me again! I’m sick of your fake little victim act!"

Julian stepped between us immediately, grabbing my wrist. "Catherine, that’s enough!"

"She started it!" I snapped. "She’s always twisting things to make me look like the problem."

"I don’t care who started it," he cut in sharply. "You crossed a line. You don’t hit people."

"Oh, but it’s fine when she lies about me?!"

"She didn’t lie!" he said firmly.

That one hit deeper than I expected.

I stared at him. "You’re taking her side?"

"Catherine—"

"No, answer me! You’re really taking her side again?"

He hesitated. "I’m not taking any sides. I’m standing by what’s right. You slapped her just now, can’t you see that you are FUCKING problem?!"

That was all the answer I needed.

Something cracked inside me, not just anger, but something meaner.

I scoffed and before I could stop myself, I slapped him too.

The sound was even louder this time.

Lucy gasped. Julian froze, his jaw tightening, his hand still hovering midair where he’d meant to stop me.

"Don’t talk to me if all you’ll ever do is defend her," I said, my voice trembling. "I’m done with it, Julian. Done."

And before he could say anything else, I turned and ran to my room, slamming the door shut so hard the frame rattled.

I locked it not with the key but with the bolt, then leaned against it, my chest was heaving, my hands were shaking and my throat burned.

The tears came before I could stop them. "God, I hate them. I hate both of them!"

I threw myself on the bed, and buried my face in my pillow.

"’Don’t hit people,’" I mimicked bitterly into the fabric. "Maybe tell that to your precious Lucy next time she hits on you like a mosquito."

My pillow muffled my laughter and sobs at the same time. "Pervert. Moron. Betrayer of women. Mr. Always-Takes-Lucy’s-Side."

I sat up, sniffling. "She deserved that slap, though. I should’ve used my left hand too. Equal rights."

The thought made me giggle despite the ache in my chest.

Then I saw my reflection in the mirror, puffy eyes, messy hair, and an expression that screamed chaos, and laughed harder. "Wow, Catherine. You’re really losing it. Congratulations."

The laughter slowly faded to a whisper.

"Can’t he just pick me for once?" I muttered. "Just once. Fucking moron!"

A faint buzz from my phone cut through the silence. It was a message from Julian.

Julian: Open the door.

I stared at the screen. Then I threw the phone under my pillow and muttered, "Go text Lucy instead, moron."

And then, because life loved irony, another text came in.

Julian: I’m not leaving till you open it.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. "Then die there."

And that’s exactly how I fell asleep, angry, tear-stained, and secretly hoping he wouldn’t leave.