Page 94 of Vicious Sentiments

“Shit,” Julian says and starts to climb out of the bed. But it’s too late, that tiny amount of disrespect was all it took. Cape grabs Dillon by the throat and slams him into the wall. I clamor against the bed board and throw a hand over my mouth.

Iwasscreaming bloody murder. It’s an honest mistake. If anything I’m a little touched that Dillon would even care to check on me. But Cape’s reaction is making me glad that I didn’t tell him about the last time Dillon was in my room.

“Let him go,” Julian says, putting a hand on Cape’s shoulder. “Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.”

Cape shakes him off a little roughly, and Julian winces, grabbing his side.

“I don’t trust him.” Cape keeps a hold on Dillon, who despite his situation is remaining calm.

“He’s our brother,” Julian sighs.

“Nah.” Cape tightens his grip, and Dillon’s throat makes a noise that curdles my insides. “I don’t think he’s one of us.”

“Get off your high horse, Cape.” Julian rolls his eyes and tries putting a hand on him again. This time Cape doesn’t shake him off, but he stares down Dillon, grinding his jaw. The muscles in Cape’s arm are twitching, chomping at the bit to what? Crush his throat? Over a harmless mistake? Jesus.

I crawl out of the bed, slowly but determined. “Stop. I was screaming, he came to help,” I say, but Cape doesn’t turn, doesn’t lessen his grip.

On shaky legs, I come up beside the three of them and then dip under Cape’s arm, wedging myself between him and Dillon. Cape’s eyes flick to me for a second but then back up at Dillon.

“Move,” he grits, and despite the tone in his voice, I stay put.

“No. Let him go.” I know my voice wobbles damn it, but I mean it. I’ve had enough of the confrontation and drama. Enough of the violence. I spent my whole life in it. I’m barely coming to terms with the karmic fate that met my dad and I just spent the last week worrying about the violence that befell Julian. I do not want anymore. I just want to get back into bed between them and sleep soundly.

I stomp my foot when Cape doesn’t budge.

Julian snickers, and I shoot him a deadly look. He quickly smooths his features and lets go of Cape, backing up with his hands in the air.

Cape cracks his neck to the side but doesn’t take his eyes off Dillon.

I put a brave hand on Cape’s chest. His heart is hammering like the gallop of a horse.

“Let him go,” I say more firmly. Everything in me says I should be frightened right now. I’m standing in front of a man that has the ability to snap me in two and I know all too well that the rage of a man needs to go somewhere, and I’m right in front of it.

But I’m not scared. I raise my chin a little higher. I’mnot. Something in me knows that Cape would never hurt me. Julian either, and even if they would, I refuse to take it anymore. I can’t control what happens to them but I can control what happens to me.

Cape’s eyes narrow, but I feel the muscles in his chest relax and then his arm slowly comes down. Dillon tries to hide it but he gasps for breath like he was a second from blacking out.

“Don’t come in here again,” Cape growls. “Don’t walk past that door.” He points. “Anddon’tfuck with me, Dillon.” Cape wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against him.

Dillon’s voice is scratchy when he speaks, and I wanted so badly to give him a silent thank you, but it all goes out the window.

“Sick fucks…” he says.

Cape flings me to Julian so fast that I slam against his bad side and he lets out a smalloof.I hear the sound of Cape’s fist connecting with Dillon’s face.

Chapter Fifty

The tension in the air is as thick as the pancakes in front of me on Halloween morning. Typically, Dillon wouldn’t be at breakfast, but Marney has him in her clutches, applying makeup to the black eye he’s sporting.

“You’re supposed to be abear,”she screeches. “Not a zombie.” She grimaces at the blue and purple outline on his occipital bone.

Dillon’s eyes flick begrudgingly to Cape, who is as cool as a cucumber, eating a pumpkin muffin and unaffected by the gaze on him.

Meanwhile, there’s a litany of strangers scurrying around us with fake cobwebs and strings of purple lights. I’m amazed by how quickly the house is turning into a spooky masterpiece and how none of the workers even care about the agitated state of us.

“I didn’t hit myself,” Dillon grumbles.

“Well, you didn’t trynotto get hit either,” she huffs, and I can’t help but smirk when I see Cape do the same.

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