Page 103 of Sinners Reunion

She shrugs. “What’s a little attempted murder between lovers? Bennett and I couldn’t stand each other at first, but getting locked inside a cabin changed our minds. The heat of passion makes you do crazy things.”

Like shove marshmallows into your pussy? Yeah, tell me about it.

King and Bennett head toward our nearly finished racer as Aven meanders back to his group with Quinn, Eve, and Gary. Staffers scurry like ants to clean up the evisceration demonstration in the back, while a few others begin wheeling some of the event Cattle into the room. Once we’ve bolted them into their death machines, we’ll load them into a large truck and make our way to the canyon.

“Thanks for showing me how to do that,” Bennett says to King as they draw closer to us. “And thanks for being on my team for the event. You didn’t know this, but when I was younger, I saved up for a month to buy an entry into a soapbox derby. I didn’t mention it to my ma because I didn’t want her to feel bad that she couldn’t pony up the fees, but it didn’t matter anyway.”

“Why’s that?” King asks, and I feel bad for listening in, but I can’t help it.

Bennett chuckles, but there’s a sadness to it. “I had the money for the entry fee, but I had nothing to race and no one to help me build something. The event organizers wouldn’t even return my money.”

From the corner of my eye, I spot a wheelchair moving toward us. This one’s different from the rest, however. The Cattle strapped in this seat wears a big red bow. The staff member parks the chair in front of us, and Bennett and King step closer.

“Hey,” Bennett says as his eyebrows pull together. He looks back at King and points at the chair. “That’s the guy! That’s the sonofabitch who took a little kid’s money and wouldn’t give it back. How’d you do this? I never told anyone what happened to me.”

King shoves his hands into his khaki pockets. “You might have thought no one knew, but your mother was more aware than you realized. She mentioned it during one of her spells, and the orderly jotted it into her notes. I merely paid Ezra handsomely to track him down and procure him for us.”

My heart swells in my chest. I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s the sweetest, most terrible man I know, but it still shocks me whenever I see these little moments of absolute kindness from him. It’s like witnessing a tigress nursing a newborn lamb—wholly unnatural and kind of unsettling, but genuinely heartwarming.

“This was really sweet of you, King,” Cat says as she pushes the chair closer to the racer. “I know it means the world to Benny Bear.”

“Don’t call me that in front of people,” Bennett says with a quick swipe of his eyes. He turns to King. “But she’s right. This means more than you know.”

Cat pulls a familiar purple toothbrush holder from her back pocket. “Don’t forget this,” she says as she hands it to Bennett.

King and I exchange a glance, and I cringe internally when I remember where that thing has been.

“Ready to go for the ride of your life, Ma?” Bennett pinches a bit of dust from inside and places it into a locket, which he affixes around the Cattle’s neck.

The staff have already been instructed to leave this locket behind when they retrieve the remains and wreckage.

He steps back and studies the writhing man strapped into the seat. “The Grand Canyon is about to get a little grander today.”

There’ll be something else attached to a few of the cars as well: more letters for Daddy Carter. I often wonder when that illustrious asshole will make his appearance. I want a front-row seat to his downfall when he does, that’s for sure.

Once our special guests have been caged inside their death traps, the staff collect the vehicles and get them loaded. Several limos wait just outside the facility doors, ready to ferry us to the actual event location. We pile into a car with Cat, Bennett, Ezra, and Kindra.

“At least the weather is more forgiving today,” Ezra says. He reaches over Kindra and grabs a bottle of bubbly and a glass. “This will help take the edge off.”

“Why are you on edge?” I ask.

Kindra smiles and pats his knee as he tosses the glass aside and gulps from the bottle. “He’s had a few bad run-ins with heights. He’s not a fan.”

“I suggested Yellowstone,” Ezra says. “The acid geysers would have done all the heavy lifting for us. But no, Jim insisted on the Grand Canyon. The only fond memory I have of heights is tainted by my father and the fact that no matter how hard I try, I can’t recall his damn face.”

He tips the bottle against his lips once more, putting an end to the conversation.

The limos rock along until we eventually wind up at an empty dirt parking lot. Red rock stretches as far as I can see. Jim explains that we’ve been taken to a closed section of the canyon for our special event. The powers that be didn’t want us fucking up the natural wonder, so they agreed to our game only if we’d launch from this section where we’re less likely to damage something important.

They haven’t met our merry band of idiots, however. If something can fuck up, it probably will. That’s what I’ve learned since joining their weird little crew. We’ll just have to wait and see what goes wrong this time.

Chapter Thirty-Two

King

One member of each team stands on a large ramp behind each racer. Cat is our chosen starter. She’ll give the cobbled-together car its initial push, and then Bennett will use a set of controls to steer it through a course and over the cliff. Josie and I will be his eyes and ears.

Jim perches on a platform off to the side of the starting ramp. He holds a megaphone in one hand and a large green flag in the other. Kenny flaps his wings atop a perch beside him, then rambles on about something incoherent in his creepy little bird voice. Jim nods and agrees with him.