Page 69 of Vicious Sentiments

There’s a C-PAP machine attached to Margo’s face that fills the dark room with a continuous rhythm that feels like white noise and it’s comforting. I don’t know if Julian came back in a couple hours like he said he would, or if Margo redirected him as well, but I’m grateful to not be alone. Every time I close my eyes I see the mangled face of my dad splayed out against the white floor.

It’s like it’s tattooed to the back of my eyelids, and I wonder how long it will be like this. I try to believe in what Margo said, that I’ll be okay. That I’m young and resilient. The words get stuck in my head and I repeat them over and over again mentally. I think that’s the pill though.

I try so hard to keep my eyes open but the medication is making them heavy. I’m forced to see the lurid blood while chanting the word ‘resilient’ as I fall asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Six

At some point in my drug induced coma, Julian carries me back to my room. He smells like fresh soap with a hint of bleach. I’m vaguely aware that he stays in the room with me, taking up residence in the chair in the corner.

When the sun finally rises, I feel tense and groggy but I can take him in more clearly. He’s asleep with his head resting on his shoulder. He’s in different clothes than last night, a more comfy attire of gray joggers and a black long sleeve henley.

Knowing he’s right there, sleeping like everything is okay, relaxes something in me and I snuggle deeper, tucking the comforter under my chin. I keep my eyes on him, fighting my eyelids and their stupid visions. If I can just keep them open and on Julian, I feel okay. Even though my mind runs wild with what he did with the body.

Did he bury my dad in the middle of nowhere or dump him in the ocean? But Margo said the body would never be found, and those possibilities seem risky. Did he burn the body? Cut it up into tiny pieces? Did Julian rip out my dad’s teeth with a pair of pliers and his bare hands? I can’t help but squint at his fingernails, looking for dried blood, even though I know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave any behind.

Every part of me logically knows I should be afraid of him, of Cape, of Margo, of the whole nasty business spelled out in the FBI folder,but I’m just not. As terrifying as Cape was, he saved me. Another kick and my dad would have drug me out by my hair and forced me back to Bridgerock to suffer until I grew the courage to throw myself off the bridge. And Julian, no matter what he did to clean up, was only cleaning up a mess that followed me here.

I’m more grateful than I’ve ever been. If I had somehow managed to kill my dad, I wouldn’t have known what to do with the body, or wouldn’t have had the stomach to do what needed to be done. I would have sat with it till the police took me away where I would have spent the rest of my life behind bars.

Even Margo, how can I fear her when all she does is feed me, clothes me, and check to make sure I won’t be a teen mother? In the short time that I’ve known her, I’ve never felt more cared for. She’s the woman I always needed in my life, leading with strength and telling me that I too can be strong.

They maysend messagesand illegally sell guns, but every family has secrets, at least with this one they protect and care for me.

Julian twitches and then his head snaps up, eyes wild and searching. He scans the room, sitting up with urgency. And then when his eyes land on me he sags, relief evident as he lets his grip on the arms of the chair relax.

I don’t mean to but my eyes well up, my lip instantly trembling under his gaze and I start to cry.

“Baby, baby, baby.” He stands and comes to my bed. “You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

“I know,” I croak, as he sits and pulls my head into his lap.

“Then what’s wrong? Everything is taken care of.”

I don’t even know. I don’t care that my dad is dead and I’m not worried about Cape getting in trouble, not after hearing what Margo said and how she said it. But I know I need to just cry, even if it makes me look like a headcase.

“Are you in pain? I can get you another pill,” he sounds so sincere, and it would be so easy to just say yes, at least that would make sense for my sudden onset of tears.

“Yes, but that’s not what’s wrong.” I let myself be honest.

“Then what? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

I giggle. And then I giggle again. And again a little hysterically. Does that mean he’s afixer?It’s just so perfect. I can’t help it.

“Hailey?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I try to stop.

“You must still be loopy from the pills.”

“No. I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay if you aren’t. Cry or laugh or whatever you need to do. I’ll be right here.”

His words make me cry harder. “I’ve never had anyone.”

“I know, babygirl.”

“I’m glad he’s dead.”

---