Page 49 of Vicious Sentiments

Shit.

I smooth it out and shove it back in with no time to worry about it as I hear Marney’s footsteps getting closer. I just slam the drawer shut as she rounds the corner.

“Anything juicy?”

A nervous laugh leaves my lips. “No. Uh. Nothing. Just stocks. Boring stuff.”

I stand and shove my hands in my pockets. I have no idea how much Marney knows, but I doubt she should know that anyone suspects Margo of having a hand in her parent’s death.

“Did you find any sex toys?”

“What?” I blurt, unable to fathom the ridiculousness of her question and how absurd it sounds coming from her.

“I don’t know. Whatever you guys use when you have sex.”

A sound like a wheeze comes out of me. “We aren’t having sex. How do you know about sex?” I’m rambling, god.

“I’m thirteen, not ten. I know what sex is.” She folds her arms across her chest.

I shake my head, unable to process anything but the list of deaths. “We should go.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Iwas queasy all night as I tried to grapple with how naive I’ve been. Of course the FBI would have a file on Julian and the whole family. Of course there would be lots of deaths. You can’t sell guns and not have blood on your hands. I guess, I just wasn’t thinking of the in-between. The part where people in the middle need to be handled. And with all the blatant money surrounding me, of course those funds would have to be altered. You couldn’t just put on your taxes that your income comes from selling illegal guns.

“Not hungry, Peach?” Margo eyes the plate of breakfast I’ve been nudging around with my fork.

She looks as normal to me as any other woman. Not the queen of illegal gun trading. She’s wearing a floral muumuu for crying out loud.

I shake my head and avert my eyes, thinking of how she got sucked into all of this with Luca, which the files made clear. She was only twenty when she married him and apparently he was already involved in shady affairs, eventually leading to the empire that exists today.

I had no idea how big this was. I kick myself again for being naive. The house—house(s)—the cars, it would have to be big to sustain it all.

The french doors swing open and I jump, followed up by gritting my teeth. I can’t seem to get a grip. At least, in Bridgerock everything was expected. I knew what was coming for me, but here? I haveno idea what’s coming. Is the SWAT team going to crash through the ceiling, suspended by rappels with little laser pointers bouncing around the room?

Dillon kicks the door shut behind him and throws himself against the counter, dripping in sweat despite the head band on his head.

“Ew.” Marney flicks her hair back while Margo pulls open the fridge and grabs a water. She rolls the bottle across the counter to him.

“You’re going to kill yourself.” Margo clucks her tongue.

Dillon smiles triumphantly. “That’s the idea.”

“Oh, stop that.” Margo bats a hand.

“I’m kidding.” He cracks the lid and chugs the whole bottle within a second.

I can’t help but wonder if he’s still taking the Prozac and if he is, how he isn’t a zombie at max dose. Despite the altercation on the beach, I find myself softening towards him with the words of the file. fresh in my mind. He really did/is having a hard time about losing his parents. So badly in fact, that he needed the max dose and therapy. And the harmless quip about him running himself to death isn’t lost on me.

Does he know about Margo’s suspected involvement in his parents death and that’s why he was so passionate about me getting away from the family? But he doesn’t seem upset with Margo. If anything, he seems taken with her.

I squint at him, trying to figure him out. Why hate the business? The files say his parents were involved too, that Margo and Macala were friends. Was he really just trying to warn me about how serious the business was, using a scare tactic to get through to me?

I’m studying him so intently that I don’t notice the wrist band being flung at me till it’s sweat soaked fabric slaps against my chest.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Dillon says, before tossing the second one at me. I manage to dodge that one but it doesn’t help menot frown at the wet mark on my silk pajama shirt.

“Ew.” Marney laughs.

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