Page 16 of Sinners Reunion

My words strike a nerve, and he sits a little straighter. His jaw muscles flex, and I have to rip my gaze away before old habits return. For several bright months of my life, nearly a year, I would reach out and soothe him whenever I saw the tension building within him. Damn my fingertips for nearly leaping to their old task.

“Speaking of clothes, your friends didn’t exactly give me time to pack a bag,” I say. “I hope you don’t expect me to wear this outfit the entire time. It smells like lake water now.”

“I don’t expect you to remain with us for the entire trip, so it’s none of my concern. Jim’s nearly had it with your antics, young lady.”

I roll my eyes and settle in for the long haul. For the next hour, I do my level best to pull information out of King. I learn I’ve slept through the first part of the drive, and we’re nearly out of Florida already. We’ll travel up the coast and stop for the night at a small campground in Georgia. But that’s as much as he’ll tell me.

I never realized there was a secret club for serial killers, but what’s even more shocking is that King isn’t the one calling the shots here. That honor seems to belong to Jim. Maybe I’ve been trying to butter up the wrong man.

Settling into my seat, a new plan forms. If I can get in Jim’s good graces, that may give me more leverage for fucking up King’s good time.

I set my sights on the horizon. The next time we stop, I’ll find a way to talk to Jim. Maybe I’ll tell him where that sloth is after all. Whatever it takes to get the upper hand.

Chapter Five

King

The caravan no longer stretches before us as I take the final exit for the night. My passenger’s frequent need for the lavatory put us miles behind everyone else. Jim waits for no man . . . or woman. After the third stop, the others continued on without us.

I steal glances when I can. Why? I couldn’t say. I’m only torturing myself with each glimpse of her red hair and glistening green eyes.

Josie Rogers is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, but my eyes are the only part of my body I’ll allow to enjoy her. She was pretty as a fresh twenty-something, but time has matured her in ways I find almost undeniable.

But deny her I will, no matter what she throws at me.

“If you grip the steering wheel any tighter, it’s liable to pop right off,” she says.

I loosen my hold, and my knuckles return to a normal color.

“Is there any more water?” she asks. “I’m thirsty.”

“I tossed the remaining bottles in the bin. If I’m forced to walk you again, I’ll scream.”

“Walk me?” She scoffs. “I’m not a fucking dog.”

“You whine to be let out. You smell. You throw your ass around like a bitch in heat.” I shrug. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck?”

When I first saw that it was her, I had a moment of insanity where I thought we might get to relive those wild months we spent together. She quickly told me where I could shove that fantasy, and now I’m keen to hurt her feelings right back. I don’t care that it’s petty.

“Aw, I see what this is. Someone’s jealous that I asked to ride with Blayne again.”

Jealous is a strong word. I’m more irritated by her request than anything else, and not for the reason she believes. It’s not that I don’t want anyone else to have her. It’s just that . . .

I don’t want anyone else to have her.

Blast.

“I liked you better when you were underwater,” I mutter.

The CB radio crackles to life. Jim insisted we install these damn things, and there was no arguing with him.

“Air Force Fun to RV There Yet, over,” Jim says.

With a groan, I raise the radio to my mouth. “I’m not using the idiotic call signs, Jim.”

The speaker crackles again. “Air Force Fun to RV There Yet. Over!”

Josie snatches the mic from my hand and holds the button. “RV There Yet to Air Force Fun. We copy. Captain Cocksure hasn’t pulled the stick out of his ass yet. We’re working on it. Over.”