Julian Haites Quotes

That’s Julian Haites. I couldn’t break his heart if I hit it with a sledgehammer.” “Baby girl—” Gus gives me a look. “You are the sledgehammer.

Do you believe children carry the sins of their fathers? Have you heard of that? Generational sins, ancestral sins—do you believe in those? My brother does. Because our dad did what he did—that’s Julian’s second pass. He’s already wearing Dad’s sins—what’s a few more?

but it’s not true. I do need Julian. He’s not just my brother, he’s not just my best friend, he’s my father and my protector and my family and my home

You’re an idiot, Julian Haites.” I swallow, concentrate on making sure my face doesn’t show I’m disappointed she said no. “One of these days you’re going to say yes . . .” She pulls a big, apologetic smile. “I don’t think I will . . .” Put my hands on my head and breathe out. “You are my Everest.” She gives me a little look and shakes her head. “People die trying to climb Mount Everest.” I stare over at her. “Not afraid of dying.

Hey, isn’t that Daisy Haites—” Bridge nods her chin towards the door. Daisy Haites. Haites, as in, Julian. Yes, that Julian. The gang lord who somehow still manages to appear in GQ and gets write-ups in VICE. Jonah’s other closest friend, I’d say. Daisy’s his sister. She’s a few years younger than me, completely beautiful, sort of terrifying: dark brown hair, bright hazel eyes and skin a little more tan than your standard-issue white girl.

People we won’t work with, no matter what. Sapanta Asad, Mata Tosell, Roisin MacMathan—people who fuck with people how they fuck with people, it’s a no-fly zone for us. Julian would never. I need him to never.

Raised by her older brother Julian since their parents were murdered, Daisy has never been able to escape the watchful gaze of her gang-lord brother. But Julian’s line of work means that Daisy’s life is . . . complicated.

Are you kidding?” I push my hair over my shoulders the same way I’ll push this thought away. “That’s Julian Haites. I couldn’t break his heart if I hit it with a sledgehammer.” “Baby girl—” Gus gives me a look. “You are the sledgehammer.

3 Julian

You think you’re saved?” “Nah, I doubt it—” Julian shrugs and lets out a small laugh as he takes another big gulp of wine. “Probably a bit loved, though.

Six flights up, I take the stairs two at a time, practically fucking hurl myself at the door as I bang on it. And then it opens and Julian motherfucking Haites fills the frame.

Julian clicks his tongue. “What are you playing at?” “Nothing—” I give him a look. “Just taking my friend’s sister to an art gallery.” “Never mind that you’re in love with her, then?” he asks, eyebrows back up. “Yeah.” I sniff. “Never mind that.