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“Forever,” James grunts. “And beyond that.”
“They’ve gone too far this time,” Brad says, tossing a filthy look back at the boat as we start a leisurely swim back to the shore while the girls chug along beside us. “Rose and Beau are rubbing off on Pearl. Not acceptable. Sort your women out.”
“Just let us know if you want to climb onboard,” Rose sings.
Oh, they’ll be sorted out. “Fuck off, Rose,” I pant.
“There’s no need to be like that.”
“We had it covered.” I spit out some water.
“Sure you did.”
“We had it fucking covered!”
“I’d save your energy. It’s still quite a way to shore.”
“I’m going to kill her,” I mumble. “It’ll be slow. Painful.”
And that’s what I do the entire way to shore. I plan her punishment. What the hell was she thinking?
73
BRAD
* * *
We make it to the shore, virtually crawling up the sand, and find the others looking pretty sorry for themselves with various injuries. “Any fatalities?” James asks, looking around at all the bodies lying around. “Any of ours?”
“None of ours.”
Leon appears—God love that kid—with a tray of beers and a pack of smokes. He’s limping. “You okay?” I ask.
“Just a graze, B-Boss,” he says, nodding. “The girls just took Pearl to the ladies to try and clean her up.”
Try. I nod. It’s probably wise they took her. I feel like I might explode with the pressure of my anger. I need to cool off before I take in more injuries. “Thanks.” I swipe up a bottle and drop to the sand, lighting up and swigging. This cigarette. My God, it’s glorious. And the beer? The salt in my mouth is washed away with each swig.
James lowers to my side, his face still twisted, and Danny on the other, his scar deep. I won’t tell them to chill out. I lost my shit when Pearl took a trip to an ATM alone. This is beyond my comprehension.
We look at King’s boat bobbing in the distance.
“He was definitely dead, wasn’t he?” Danny says, exhaling.
“That crossed my mind too,” James muses.
“I checked,” I tell them.
“You checked his pulse?”
I frown. “No.” I didn’t have time to check his pulse.
“Rule number one,” James says. “Always check the dead man’s pulse.” Something appears in front of us, held up by James.
“What’s that?” Danny asks.
A small click sounds.
And the boat blows up in the distance, lighting up the sky, forcing me to shield my eyes. “Well, there’s definitely no need to check for a pulse now,” I muse, taking a swig and a drag.
