Page 80 of Vicious Sentiments

He’s still in his shirt and jeans, typically he gets into bed in some shorts and no shirt, but tonight he’s still fully clothed and smells like the warm scent of fire, probably from the fire pit out back, and I deduce he’s been out there this whole time.

“Is everything okay?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer me. The only sound is him repeatedly rubbing the stubble on his chin. A scratchy white noise.

I’m being vague, but whatever is going on has to be about Julian, and it makes the pit in my stomach double in size.

“Cape?” I try again, starting to feel like I don’t care if I come off as a silly worried girl.

“Huh?” He stirs as if just now realizing I exist.

“Julian was supposed to beback…”

“He’s fine. He’s a big boy,” he says quickly.

I don’t like his tone, it’s clipped and distant, as if he’s already had to say it once.

“What did Margo—”

“Margo’s being dramatic,” he cuts me off, clearly exasperated, and I shut my mouth.

After a few moments of lying awake in the dark, he sighs and the scratching sound ceases.

“Get over here,” he says, twisting and grabbing my waist.

He pulls me on top of him and manhandles me by my ass to situate me where he wants me. Which is apparently lined up with his cock, where it presses against my underwear. I can’t say it doesn’t make me melt and I wiggle harder against it.

“God, you’re tempting me,” he groans, his warm breath tickling the top of my head. “Julian’s fucking nuts with this waiting till your birthday shit.”

Ialmostsay it. Ialmostsay we don’t have to wait. It would be so easy for him to unzip his jeans and slip my panties to the side. We would barely have to move, and I could get to feel him inside of me. I would take all of him, which seems daunting if I’m going off of what I feel between our clothes, but I need all of him, even if it breaks me in two.

But I want Julian too, and he’s not here. I don’t know where he is and it’s eating at me. I know it’s only been the day, but I feel on the cusp of tears. Have I lost my mind? Probably. Can I be this attached to him already? The idea of something having happened to him makes me feel like I might as well be sitting back on the edge of death in Bridgerock. I just wouldn’t be able to bear it. I would need to find the peaceful nothingness of Death to stop the pain that would be worse than anything I’ve endured.

“Are those tears on my shirt or drool?” Cape shifts.

My cheeks burn at the mention of drool—god, have I been making a habit of that?—and I answer him honestly if only so he doesn’t think it’s the latter.

He sighs just like Julian, and I tighten my arms around him, desperate for him to understand.

“I’m worried,” I say.

“Well, don’t be. Shit comes up, just like I told Ma. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten held up in places I don’t want to be. It’s part of the job. He’ll show up.”

I want to believe him but I’ve gotten used to his voice, and his tone is not typical. He’s worried too, even if he won’t admit it.

Chapter Forty-Three

I’m a wreck after two more days. I don’t even bother making myself a plate of food at breakfast, and Margo doesn’t give me one either. She’s staring off into nothing and doesn’t even have a cup of coffee in her hands like she usually does. As if Marney can sense the vibe, she’s grabbed a muffin and high tailed it out of the kitchen.

The food sits on the counter untouched while me and Margo both emit the dying scent of wilting flowers. She has to know that I’m losing my mind as well, but she doesn’t say anything to me, and I’m too afraid to bring it up. In case she tells me something that sends me over the deep end.

I just keep listening to Cape, who tells me to relax but gets more and more tense as the hours go on.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Cape jogs down the stairs, hair fresh and wet from a shower. He slides into the kitchen with a pep in his step, and despite my mood, I can’t help but salivate a little. He’s absolutely mouthwatering as his hair drips water onto his black shirt and he flings his head to get it out of his eyes.

“You ready, speed racer?” He walks around me and leans on the counter, grabbing a piece of bacon.

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