Page 29 of Vicious Sentiments

I notice the genuine worry in his eyes as she fumbles with the opener. I’ve been opening beer bottles since I was eight-years-old and my dad didn’t even bat an eye.

“She’s got it.” Julian brushes Dillon off even though his face is saying he’s worried too.

Marney tucks the bottle into the crook under her arm, standing on her tippy toes, and struggles to latch the opener around the top. After a moment, she angles the opener and it slips off without catching.

“I can do it.” Dillon stands up.

“Just tilt it the other way.” Julian makes the motion with his handand Dillon stops while she tries again. A hiss finally permeates the air and Dillon sags back into his chair.

Maybe he’s not that bad if he can care so much for Marney. Maybe he’s just concerned for me the way the woman at the restaurant was. They would be wrong, but I can see where they are coming from.

With a big grin, Marney hands the beer to Julian who then sets it in front of me.

“Want to do another?” Julian asks and she nods eagerly.

We are twenty minutes into the dinner of fajitas when Cape finally shows up. He’s wearing black jeans, boots and a tight black henley that shows just how muscular he actually is. So far, no one has discussed any family secrets but I think that’s about to change with his presence. My stomach ties itself into a knot.

Marney, seemingly unaffected, jumps up when he pulls a beer from the ice and she offers to open it.

“With that?” He motions to the bottle opener in her hands.

When she nods he shakes his head. “Let me show you how to really open a beer.”

Margo sighs. “Not on my table.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Cape smirks before positioning his beer cap on the edge and slamming a fist down.

Marney’s eyes light up when the top flies off. “Let me try!”

“No,” Margo and Dillon say in unison.

They share a small smile before Marney slinks back to her seat.

“Are you going to buy her a new table when you haven’t even been pulling your weight?” Julian turns to Cape, who has taken a seat at the head of the table.

I set my fork down, anticipating another scuffle.

“If I carry anymore weight, little brother, I might be crushed under it all.” He takes a swig of the beer, leans back and puts a boot on the table.

“Are you drunk?” Margo snaps and leans over, smacking his foot off.

“I prefer to call it numb,” Cape drawls, smiling.

I eye him cautiously. He may think he’s numb but I can see a rage brewing under his calm demeanor. Something similar to how my dad would stumble in the front door, singing a tune and walking on water, until something would set him off, and give me whiplash.

But I have to give it to Cape. His eyes aren’t swimming around in their sockets and he looks clear and aware. Especially so, as his gaze lingers over me. I try to make myself smaller, as if that will protect me from whatever he’s thinking as his eyes roam me up and down. Which must be something sinister if the way he’s biting his lip says anything.

Suddenly, Julian’s fingertip is under my chin, tilting my head up, his face close to mine.

“Don’t be afraid of him.” his words come out like a spell, authoritative and eliciting.

I scoot closer to him in my seat and straighten up, not wanting to disappoint him.

“Good girl,” he hums and grips my hand under the table. The infliction of pride in his voice makes my lungs feel a little bigger, and I take a needed breath.

When I look up, I see that Dillon is paused mid-chew with a look of disgust. I have to resist the urge to sink in my seat again.

“I can tell this dinner isn’t going to last long.” Margo pushes her plate away. “So let me make some things clear before you all dissolve into children.”

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