Page 65 of Vicious Sentiments

“Oh, no you don’t.” Dillon stands. “You’re not leaving me in this.”

Margo laughs and scurries out of the room with her glass in hand. I scowl at Julian but he just shrugs with amusement as Dillon puts his napkin on the table and follows Margo.

“Okay. What are we thinking?” Marney pulls up her phone and pushes her plate aside. “Bora Bora is—”

“Bora Bora? Why can’t we stay here? What if we just go to dinner?”

Marney drops a hand on the table and gives me a flat look. “No.”

“Go easy on her,” Julian warns Marney.

She levels him with a stare, but Julian wins, and her shoulders slump.

“Fine. We can stay local,” she sighs. “But dinner isn’t going to cut it.”

I consider that a small win and go back to eating my cake while she prattles off ideas.

Chapter Thirty-Four

With Julian back, I haven’t seen much of Cape, even though I ache to get back in the workout room. I’ve passed it a couple of times but it’s been empty, and I wonder if Cape went back to his penthouse.

During the day, when Marney is at school, the house can feel a little empty. I’m not sure where Julian goes when he says he has work to do, and Margo is always in and out, running errands that I’m sure she could get someone else to do.

Thankfully, I don’t see much of Dillon, who I now think of as a cartoon character, since I’ve never seen him in anything but running gear, as if that’s his character outfit. He’s always out of the house training before breakfast and only appears after everyone has dissipated. Margo saves him a plate that he scarfs down with an appreciative eye thrown her way, and then he’s gone again, doing what, I don’t know.

A content feeling has started to creep up on me and I find myself sitting on the back deck. I make a point not to check the workout room like an adrenaline junkie and instead enjoy the peace and sound of crashing waves. It’s oddly warm for late fall, but I guess that’s normal for California. In Bridgerock, I would have been freezing my ass off.

I picture the bridge Julian found me on, how it’s probably coated inblack ice and the river flowing below it with icicles here and there. If Julian hadn’t showed up would I have jumped? Would anyone have looked for me? Would my battered body be wedged between rocks, lifeless and still?

The imagery is like a dream. It used to be so real, so vivid. I pictured it every night, hoping to someday have the courage. I thought it was my only way out. What if I had gone through with it? I never would have known that peace could be found elsewhere.

I breathe in the salty air, relishing it and then the doorbell rings. A little confused, I stand up, unsure if I should answer it. I don’t recall Margo ever having any visitors and I don’t feel like it’s my place to answer her door.

But then it rings again, followed by knocking.

I make my way through the house and as I grow closer to the door, I realize the knocking is more like banging, and the bell is being repeatedly hammered on. I hesitate near the door, not remembering if I saw Margo leave today or not, and hoping that Dillon might appear.

The banging becomes more insistent, and in a haste I flip the lock and pull the door open. It’s definitely not my place, but whoever it is seems insistent.

I blink against the person standing before me and my whole world tilts. I have to grab the frame to stop from falling over. This can’t be real. It can’t.

“Fucking whore.” My dad steps forward, and on shaky legs I get out of the way, instinct kicking in. “I thought, there’s no way, but low and behold.” He stretches out his arms, voice booming.

How did he find me?Whydid he even bother finding me?

He shuts the door behind him and sneers at the brass handle. “Guess that shithead Kyle had some good info.”

My mind scrambles to figure out how he’s standing here right now.His mud caked boots and holey cargo pants sullying the foyer. He looks so out of place, like a monster in a ballroom. His face is blotchy, a telltale sign he’s been drinking and I skirt against the wall, instantly remembering how to act in his presence.

Why did I open the door?

He looks around and laughs, the sound making my stomach twist. Did Kyle tell him about Julian? The McLaren? Is that how he found me?

“Who’re you spreading your legs for to stay here?” He stomps past me as if I’m a dog he doesn’t expect an answer from.

In a panic, I follow after him. My heart is thudding in my ears and my legs feel weak.

When he cuts a corner towards the kitchen, I realize I’m not breathing. I shouldn’t have answered the door, or at least looked out the peephole. What was I thinking?

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