Page 66 of Vicious Sentiments

He’s got his hands on his hips when I spot him taking in the kitchen. He sways a little but stays standing. That’s not a good sign. It means he has his bearings but is drunk enough to harness that inebriated strength.

“Where’d you go?” he shouts and turns. “Oh. There you are.” He frowns, his eyes bobbing around in their sockets. “You really got yourself a sweet deal here.”

I back up when he comes towards me, wondering if I can somehow lead him outside. Whatevers going to happen, cannot happen inside this house. It would feel wrong, like a stain on a shirt.

“You know you made me look like a fool? Had the damn sheriff running plates,” he yells, lunging at me.

I dodge to the left, my heart racing, and he stumbles.

“Bitch!” He straightens out and his face turns red with anger. “When I get my hands on you…” He points and advances again.

I shrink out of his reach again. I know it’s a bad idea, thwarting him,it only makes it worse, but I can’t help it. The bruises have healed and my rib has started to feel better. I don’t want new ones. I’ve been enjoying my painless existence, my reflection in the mirror, my new found peace. If he hurts me, I don’t think I could take it. I don’t have my walls up anymore, I’m not numb anymore. The switch is dead.

“I’m sorry,” I plead.

“You’re gonna be.” He lunges again, but I’ve backed myself against a wall.

“Please,” I beg, trying to push off, but he slams his hands into my chest and I bang against the wall, my head bouncing against it. For a second, I’m stunned, little black dots popping in my eyes and then I’m on the ground. My elbows cracking on the marble as I cry out. How did I end up on the floor?

“Get up,” he demands. “We’re fucking leaving.”

The tears come quick and hot as I try to slither away.

“You fucking stupid?” he bellows and then his boot connects with my rib.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and my body curls up like a dead spider in pain. It’s the same rib and it hurts even worse than the first time. I’m lost in agony, waiting for the next blow, unable to do anything but stay shriveled.

There’s no numbness, nowhere to float away to. There’s only pain and fear. I can’t look, can’t see what’s coming for me. Will he drag me out by my hair? Is his boot coming for me again?

All the dread I used to carry returns with a fury. And I won’t be able to hide from it this time. He’ll never stop. I’m going to end up back in Bridgerock with all of this life as nothing but a memory.

“Who the fuck—” My dad starts, but then a resounding crack echoes through the kitchen followed by a hard thud right next to me.

I fight to open my eyes and confusion outweighs the pain for a second. I see my dad on his back, not more than a foot away fromme. I scramble away, not sure what happened, till I look up and see Cape. He’s shirtless and dripping in sweat, but that’s not what holds my gaze. He’s seething, his eyes black and feral as his fists clench at his sides. The veins in his neck and forehead are throbbing and look about to burst. His whole body looks like it’s about to explode.

I grab my side and push out of the way. It’s not the same look he had when Julian brought up Madison, this is worse, scarier. I don’t see a single shred of the man who wrapped my hands for me. H

He careens forward and grabs my dad by the shirt.

“Bastard…” my dad slurs as he withers in Cape’s grip.

With that, Cape snaps his head forward and bashes it into my dad’s face. Blood immediately pours from his nose and soaks his shirt.

The air clogs in my chest at the sight but I can’t close my eyes. I’m stunned into the horror like a train wreck that I can’t look away from.

Cape shakes him, trying to get him to stand on his feet but his head falls back as he cups his nose. Instead, Cape drops him and my dad crumples to the floor with a huff.

My dad peers up, his eyes suddenly sober and he ambles back on his hands, trying to skitter away from what he sees. Bloody prints smear the white marble besides him. A quick glance at Cape tells me what my dad sees, a terminator on steroids, a fight he can’t win. But I see Death, in the form of a man for the first time in my life.

He may be messy, chaotic, but he’s serving me peace, just like I thought Death always would.

My dad isn’t quick enough, or agile enough to get away as Cape kicks him, void of anything but fury. The sound is sickening and destructive. I hope it breaks his bones the way he’s broken mine.

Cape follows it with another and then another. My dad’s body curls around in the fetal position as Cape changes to stomping. His foot comes down on him like a hammer before Cape straddles him and grabs him by the shirt again.

With a hand over my mouth, I back up to the wall, flinching every time Cape’s fist connects with my dad’s face. I watch in horror as my dad becomes unrecognizable. His nose has flattened, blood spraying out and his eyes instantly swelling shut. But Cape doesn’t stop, like a broken program he continues caving in the face of the man who tortured me my whole life.

After what feels like hours, Cape peels himself off my dad’s body. Cape’s chest is heaving and splattered in blood as looks to me. I’m still huddled against the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks as I clutch my side. I realize though, that he’s not looking at me so much as through me. His eyes are still black, irises gone, and I don’t think he’s really here with me.

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