Page 88 of Vicious Sentiments

I’m surprised when the backdoor on the other side of the car opens and a man I’ve never seen gets out. He’s massive, muscles on muscles and can barely wedge between the wall and the car. He’s cartoonishly large, and if I wasn’t distracted by the blood smeared on his shirt, I would be able to remember the name of the character in Marvel who is big and green.

“Move!” he booms and comes around, shoving the chauffeur out of the way. Margo has already stepped back with her hand tightly holding her chest.

Within a second of taking the old man’s place, the hulk—the character suddenly comes to mind when I see how strong he is—is heaving a body out of the car by the legs.

My heart shoots into my throat and I can’t breathe past the clog of erratic thumping.

Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. Please.

I find myself rushing forward when I see Julian’s face in Cape’s lap. Cape is shimmying out with his arms latched under Julian’s shoulders, but Julian isn’t awake.

Not dead, just not awake.I can work with that. I gulp down my heart and try to suck in air, clear my head, figure out what I can do.

All three of them, minus the chauffeur, are covered in mud. It’s caked onto their clothes and mixed with dried blood. It’s under everyone’s fingernails and trapped in their hair. There’s so much of it that I can’t tell where the blood is actually coming from. Surely, it’s Julian right? He’s the one that’s unconscious. I take an assessment of Cape just in case, so I can make sure and just worryabout one of them.

He looks okay, despite the mud, and he looks clear of mind. His face is covered in more stubble than usual and his eyes have taken on a seriousness that I haven’t seen on him before. The only thing that’s concerning is the strap going across his chest with a very large gun attached to it. I notice that the hulk has one too, plus another smaller gun in the back of his pants and knife strapped to his ankle.

I back up and scramble to open the door as they carry Julian through the garage.

“Easy, Denny!” Cape grits through his teeth when the Hulk/Denny bounds up the step without so much as breaking a sweat.

We’re on the ground level where the workout room is, and I don’t know where they are trying to go with him. Up the stairs? But Margo is suddenly bustling beside me and opening one of the guest rooms.

I’m surprised when I see that one of the dressers has been cleared off and replaced with a lay out of tools. Needles, bottles, scalpels, cloths, and gloves. Did Margo set this up in the last hour?

They gently scuttle towards the bed and then lay Julian down.

“Talk to me, Cape,” Margo says and starts pulling on gloves.

Cape uses the back of his wrist to push the hair out of his face and grimaces.

“He’s dehydrated. Gun shot through and through on the abdomen. There’s glass or something in his back, lots of it. But more than anything, he’s dehydrated. Do we have a saline bag?”

Margo throws a clear bag of liquid across the bed at Cape and he catches it with one hand. They both start busying around the room, and I’m left standing next to Denny who I peek up at. He looks me up and down and nods his head to the side.

“Trouble. But I can see the appeal.” He shrugs.

“What?”

“You’re Julian’s girl right?”

“Careful, Denny. She’s mine too.” Cape spits from over the bed.

Denny’s bushy brows shoot up and he looks between the three of us and then waits for Margo to acknowledge him.

“I raised savages, okay? What do you want from me?” She is cutting off Julian’s shirt and doesn’t bother to look up.

“Your family is too close.” He shakes his head and gives me another side glance.

I purse my lips and look away, not in the head space to feel ashamed.

When Julian’s shirt is peeled away from his torso I see the wound and my chest constricts. Is he going to survive that? My god. Shouldn’t he go to a real hospital? I don’t want to discredit any skills that Margo has but I don’t want to risk Julian’s life.

“Fuck, Ma.” Cape rears back. “Maybe we should—”

“No. No one is going to treat him better than I can. They’ll give him as much effort as the common criminal. Not my son.”

Cape grits his teeth but doesn’t say anymore as Margo starts trying to wipe some of the mud away. She’s got a deep line across her forehead and her eyes are determined, fixed on Julian, and maybe she’s right.

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