Page 50 of Vicious Sentiments

“Ew is right, Dillon. Go take a shower.” Margo snaps.

“I’m just playing.” He puts his hands up.

“And get those sweaty bands off my floors.”

He clasps his hands together and bows. “Your wish is my command.”

He seems in good spirits, despite whatever demons he’s battling. And despite the fact that I now have his sweat on me, I decide to give him a break. He’s just been through stuff. Just like me.

* * *

I’m still pushing around my food when I realize Margo has inched closer to me and Marney has left. She’s leaning on the counter with her cup, edging it in little circles.

Feeling conspicuous, I take a bite of the cold eggs.

“Peach?” She makes a sympathetic face.

“Hm?” I try to press on a smile.

She shakes her head, hair fluffing around her. “I’m not a beat around the bush type person,” She says with her eyes closed and then takes a deep breath.

Oh, no. Does she know? I drop my fork and sit up straighter.

“I know, better than anyone, that people like their privacy.”

Oh, god.

“And I don’t go rooting around in people’s lives.”

Was Marney wrong? Were there cameras? Did she see me devouring the FBI folder? Am I about to getwhacked?

I try to speak, ready to say anything I need to, but words don’t come out. I want to tell her that I won’t tell Marney about what I read, or Dillon. That I’ll just leave, forget it all. Or pledge allegiance to her, just please don’t kill me in your muumuu with your hazelnut coffeenearby.

She pushes up and sighs. “But I feel like I don’t have a choice.”

My lip starts to tremble.

“Peach,” she repeats, the sympathy coming back. Does it make me feel better that she feels bad about what she has to do?

“Are you on birth control?” she asks.

I have to blink several times, as if that will make me understand what she just said.

In my stupor she starts to ramble, “Look, I don’t condone whatever is going on, or whatevers going to go on, and I really don’t want to know, but I know I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got yourself into trouble because of my Jules.”

“We’re not,” I stutter.

She puts up a hand. “I don’t need to know. Can’t say I believe you anyway.” She gives a huffy laugh. “And lord knows I’m trying to keep it from happening, but I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.” She pauses and shrugs. “Well, not all the time. And I’d like to believe I raised my boys right but…”

She blows out a breath. “God, I didn’t think I would have to do this for a few more years with Marney.” She levels her eyes on me. “Look, no need to be embarrassed,” she says, but I think she’s trying to psych herself up more than me. “We can go and get something. They have all types these days, arm plants—”

“Margo.” I stop her. “I have an IUD.”

The one and only time someone took pity on me was a doctor.

I had no choice but to go to a clinic, in fear that Mr. Canes had left a part of himself inside me. The doctor was a man but he was ancient and kind, and I think he knew what had happened. I was only fourteen, but he offered me the IUD, in fact, he pushed it on me. He was sweating bullets when he put the thing in, mumbling about losing his license but that God would see his good deed. He didn’ttry to charge me for it and made a point to walk me past the nurses desk, hurrying me out and whispering I have ten years.

I had never been more thankful in my life and I hadn’t even met Kyle yet.

---