Page 115 of Vicious Sentiments

“I’ll still put whatever you want in them.”

I’ve had four blueberry pancakes and probably all the bacon. Julian made a really good spread, and I surmise that he gotthatfrom Margo. I almost feel bad that we aren’t at Margo’s with Marney. I hope that I get to see her just as much now that I’m living at Julian’s. I make a mental note to plan a sleepover with her, even if that is childish. I never got to have sleepovers and I don’t think Marney will have a problem with it.

When we finish eating, the boys take a shower, and I gravitate back to the piano. I play a sad song that was always my go to but it doesn’t do much for me like it used to, and I find myself yawning. Probably a food coma. I slink over to the couch with the intent of just resting my eyes.

I’ve never been so content.

Just knowing that Julian and Cape, two men thatwould never hurt me and would protect me at all costs, are up stairs, and Margo and Marney are down the street, fills a hole in me that used to ache so much I would have to turn off the pain and go numb. I clutch my wrist with my bracelet against my chest and lay down.

I think of the piano and how it will always be there for me to play whenever I want, and I smile despite my worry about learning how to ride a motorcycle.

I don’t intend to, but I fall asleep, excited about my new life and everything to come.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

When I wake up it’s dark and there is a thick knitted blanket wrapped around me. How long was I asleep? I feel so disoriented, and who is yelling?

I sit up, clutching the blanket and squinting to read the roman numeral clock Julian has hanging above the fireplace. If it’s correct then it’s nine p.m., and I’ve slept through the whole day and evening.

There’s a glass of water on the table in front of me that looks enticing, but the yelling seems more pressing. It’s far away. Out back maybe?

As I make my way through the house it gets louder, and I can make out that it’s Julian, outside and arguing with someone else. When I make it to the kitchen I pause behind the wall so they won’t see me through the glass doors.

It takes me a second but I register that it’s Dillon he’s arguing with. Feeling braver, I step around the corner. Outside the glass they are just a foot apart from each other on the deck. Dillon is in a hoodie over his running pants while Julian is dressed in a button down. The two of them look like a businessman reprimanding a kid on his property. An indignant kid.

“Get overit!”Julian shouts but doesn’t encroach on Dillon.

“It’s not right!” Dillon is shaking with anger but his voice comes out whiny.

What is his problem now?

He takes his phone out of his pocket and starts dialing someone. The police? For what? Does he ever take a chill pill? Maybe Margo should force him onto medication.

“What’s going on?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at Cape’s voice behind me.

“I don’t know,” I say, gripping my chest and turning around.

Cape has a big paper bag with the Harley Davidson logo on it in his hand and he absently hands it to me, looking over my head and stepping around me.

When he pulls open the door the yelling halts.

“What the fuck is going on?” Cape barks.

Julian runs a hand through his hair and sighs, pushing past Cape and coming inside.

“Who are you calling?” Cape asks Dillon, who now has the phone pressed to his ear.

“Margo,” He seethes.

Cape makes a scoffing sound and turns in the doorway, his brows raised at Julian.

Julian grinds his jaw and then gives me a sympathetic look.

“Just shut the door,” he tells Cape.

But before anything can be decided, Dillon saunters past Cape and starts yelling again.

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