Page 121 of Sinners Reunion

I pluck his fingers off my chin and ease his hand away. “You handed over nothing.”

“Oh, that’s right. You were snooping. I forgot.”

“The box fell.”

“And then you just happened to read an entire letter by accident.” He raises that eyebrow, and I can’t decide if I want to gargle his balls or slap him.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” I shrug. “I don’t want to kiss. What’s the big deal?”

He sighs, then leans back in the seat. “I’ve been thinking about Quinn’s mother quite a bit lately.”

“Are you trying to bully me into telling you?”

“I don’t bring her up to remind you of my past love life. I have a point, if you’ll let me make it. She was an important part of my life, but I’ve been at peace with her decision to let me go for a long time now. I’ve recently come to realize that she didn’t love me, and it couldn’t have worked between us, even if she had. The challenge kept her in my heart far longer than she should have been. ”

Now I see where he was going with this. The challenge of kissing me is what’s kept him intrigued. As I feared in the back of my mind, it’s still just a game to him. But as I’m about to tune him out, he says something that stops my heart.

“Then I realized that it wasn’t about the challenge anymore. It had grown into wanting to understand you. If you have no desire to be kissed, then I’ve no desire to kiss you, but I at least want to know the steps that brought you to that decision.” He rubs his eyes, then scrubs his hands down his face. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it’s hard not to take it personally when you can’t even share this with me.”

“Move over, Captain Cocksure. Inspector Inferiority Complex has entered the chat.”

He cuts his eyes at me. “Puh. I’m still plenty cocky, thank you very much. There’s nothing inferior about me.”

“I dunno. You have pretty questionable decision-making abilities.” I grimace. “I might even say they’re . . . inferior.”

He grunts and heaves himself out of his seat, then heads toward the back of the RV. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of time to chat, my beauty. We won’t have a chance to shower, so do the best you can to clean yourself up with those flowery wipes and sprays. The limos arrive in thirty, so make it quick.”

The entire crew of Sinners fills a private VIP lounge above a very busy nightclub. Bass thumps through the floor, but that’s all the noise we get from the chaotic nightlife below our feet. In our little tower, we recline on white leather sofas as a jazz quartet plays soft, smooth music in the background. A bartender cleans glasses and waits for us to order another round.

King sits beside me, eyeing me up and down every now and again. It’s the outfit I chose. When I bought this snug purple cocktail dress, I never pictured I’d get to wear it in Vegas with Grantham Carter, all four of his children, and his eccentric brother. It was fate, really. The powers that be knew I needed to look my best in a room full of serial killer royalty.

And I’m fucking the king. How fitting.

We’re the only patrons in this place. Jim owns the entire building, so he cleared out the top floor and had his special crew come in to work. He said it was the least he could do to make up for the event getting canceled tomorrow.

Apparently, one of the staff members left his Pop-Tarts in the toaster too long, and they caught fire. All Cattle and three staff members were lost at the holding facility. With no way to get more Cattle on short notice, there’s no one for us to slaughter tomorrow.

Everyone is pretty bummed. He should have at least gotten us drunk before telling us. Dropping the bad news bomb as soon as we plunked our asses in the seats was certainly a choice. It brought the mood down, and the only people having a nice time are Cat and Bennett as they linger by a pan of chicken wings on a buffet table.

I’ve heard about the turkey, so I make a mental note to avoid passing anywhere near their RV later tonight.

“Does anyone have a song request?” Jim asks with a clap of his hands. “Or I could have a DJ take over if anyone would like to dance?”

Blayne raises his hand, putting on his charm as he smiles at Jim. “This place is real nice, and I like that we can drink for free, but maybe we’d have a better time if we hit up one of them casinos or something. I’ve never been out this far west, and I’m interested to see what it’s all about.”

Everyone scowls and looks at him as if he just shit himself. Even Ice Pick seems disgusted by his suggestion.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Eve says. “Did you not just drive five fucking hours after only a few hours of sleep? I ain’t that old, but I guess I’m old enough to know when to sit the fuck down and rest. You can go to a casino if you want, but I’m staying parked right here with a glass of white wine and an AC vent pumping cool air on my skin.”

Grumbles of agreement ripple through the group, and Maverick raises his glass of champagne with a nod.

Blayne raises his hands, palms out, and I wish I could kick his ass one good time to wipe that smarmy little smile off his face. “Sorry, y’all. I know when I’m beat. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay with the group than head off on my own.”

No one says anything. No one fucking cares. I almost start giggling when I realize what an absolute pariah he’s become. I can’t wait to get Eve alone so I can ask her when she started to hate the guy.

I should have hated him the moment I realized those curls aren’t natural. Something about a man who pays more for his haircare than I do just gives me the absolute ick.

I glance at Blayne. He looks embarrassed, and that gives me a coochie twinge. I’m so glad to see that he understands just how far he’s fallen from grace. He’ll have to start digging up soon; rock bottom is coming fast.