Page 52 of Vicious Sentiments

“There you go.” He starts tinkering with the weight.

Is he really weighing me right now?Sizing me up?I’d be embarrassed if I cared about things like weight, but I don’t. I’ve been trying my whole life to eat as much as I can get my hands on. Now that I’m here, besides this morning’s breakfast, I’ve been inhaling all the food. If I gain weight, then it’s because I need it.

“Pathetic,” he drawls.

I snap my head towards him. Is he really shaming me for my weight? I’mtooskinny. Does he honestly think I’m overweight? He’s scowling, squinting at the little numbers that mean nothing.

“I could snap you like a twig. You need to bulk up. Get some muscle. Maybe then you’ll get a backbone.”

Oh. I frown. Icouldbe a little stronger. But I have a backbone. I just don’t use it.

“Do you at least know how to use your size to escape?” He leavesme standing on the scale and laughs. “I’m sorry, never mind. You clearly don’t or you would have been able to get out of my headlock.”

I step down, a little agitated. Do I really need to know how to get out of a headlock or should people maybe not put me in a headlock?

“You’re just mean.” I slap a hand over my mouth. God, where did that come from? Am I stupid, just blurting things out to a murderer?

He narrows his eyes at me, dragging the towel down his chest before throwing it aside.

“I’m mean?” He comes back to me, towering over me and I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “No, Hailey. I’m dangerous.”

Against my better judgment, I sneer. “Isn’t that the same thing?” I try showing a little bit of that backbone that I keep hidden. I don’t know what I’m thinking, provoking him. I have to fight my body’s instinct to shake in his presence, the names in his section of the file screaming in my head.

A wry smile creeps up on his left cheek. “Sure.”

And then he hooks one of his legs behind both of mine and I’m falling backwards. I brace for impact, anticipating hitting the hard marble and getting more bruises when I was just getting rid of the ones I have left.

Instead, strong arms latch behind my back and I wheeze. I’m half an inch from the ground, and Cape is hovering over me, holding me up.

“I could have let you fall, but that would be mean.” His face is an inch from mine.

“You could have not tripped me,” I say, eyeing the floor.

“You could be better on your feet.” He lets go and I softly thud to the ground. He’s standing over me, one leg on each side. “Get up, let’s try again.” He puts a hand out.

“I’m good.” I ignore his hand and awkwardly roll to my side, but I realize half way into my fetal position that he’s got me trappedbetween his legs. I wait in my inconvenient position for him to move but he just laughs.

I glare up at him.

“Enjoy slithering around on the ground?”

“No.”

“Then take my hand.”

“So you can trip me again?”

“Yes.”

I let out a grunt of frustration and take his damn hand. I’m yanked up like a doll and my feet scramble in the air before he lowers me back. Jeesh, guess hedoesn’tknow his own strength, I think to myself, remembering his warning when he was threatening to snap my neck.

“Alright, turn around,” he says.

I stare at him in disbelief. Does he really expect me to turn my back on him? I may freeze up like a deer about to be eaten but I’m not stupid enough to look the other way.

“Come on. I caught you, didn’t I?”

I roll my eyes and turn around. I guess I am stupid enough.

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