Page 132 of Sinners Reunion

“One can hope,” I mutter.

But we’ve no such luck. The final act is a giant rendition of the spike-through-the-hand trick. A massive round table is pushed to center stage, with sections designated by black lines, like a pie. A single pointed spike protrudes from each section of the pie. Paper bags the size of men are brought to the table and placed in each wedge of the pie so that Blayne won’t know where the spike is once Jim gives it a spin.

Once the table is properly turned, a Cattle lowers from the rafters above the stage. The man screams, flailing his unsecured arms and legs as a harness dangles him above the table’s outer edge, right above one of the bags.

Jim instructs Blayne to spin the table until he’s ready to stop, and then the man will be dropped onto the bag, and, eventually, the spike. Blayne makes his choice, and the Cattle falls.

Right onto the spike.

How anticlimactic.

He seems a little embarrassed that he fucked it up so royally without even trying. Jim looks annoyed. The audience gives him a tiny smattering of applause, save Ice Pick, who stands and beats his meaty hands together as if his friend has done something incredible.

How is it that the closest man to him can’t see how awful he is? How is Ice Pick so blind to who he shares his house on wheels with?

We exit the theater and make our way toward the limos parked out back. We’re headed to a nicer campground tonight, one with proper trees and grass. Josie walks in front of me, chatting with Quinn. I can’t say that I mind the view. Her legs go on for miles in that dress.

Now I just want them wrapped around me. But first, I need to speak with Jim.

Chapter Forty-Two

King

It was only fair that I let Jim know we’ve pulled Ezra, Kindra, Frankie, and Maverick into the fold. I didn’t expect him to take it this poorly, however. He throws his snifter of brandy at me and ruins my new khakis.

“In every simulation where we told the children before the final day, it didn’t end well. You survived none of them, King.” He paces in front of his bed the best he can. It’s a three-step job each way, but he’s doing it. “Do you want to die? Do you have a death wish?”

I don’t want to die, and the only wish I have is an impossible one.

“None of it matters anymore. I’m calling it.” I stroll to the bed and take a seat. He won’t risk throwing anything at this expensive duvet. “It’s over, Jim. Bennett and Aven won’t be moved, and in four days, I’ll be dead.”

Jim stops pacing. He shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “No. I won’t hear of it.”

“I came here to make sure you’ll take care of Josie once I’m gone. The kids⁠—”

“No!” He stomps his foot and throws his fists down to his sides. “I’ll tell them I did it. I’ll tell them that I took your semen without your knowledge and performed this entire experiment myself. Let them kill me. I’m surprised they don’t want to already.”

“No one is angry with you because everyone understands you meant no ill will. You’re too daft to hurt someone intentionally. Me, on the other hand . . . I’m known for my callous and unfeeling ways. I have no excuse for abandoning them.”

He finally sits beside me. “I don’t know whether to feel moved or hurt.”

“That’s my point. You’re not even a serial killer, Jim. You just join in sometimes because you like group activities. You’re the fun uncle, even if most of them don’t know it. No one gets mad at the fun uncle.”

“There is a way, King. I’ll find it.”

“Jim—”

“No. I won’t look after Josie, and I won’t look after the children. You’ll do it all yourself.” He folds his arms over his chest again. “I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed now. We have a long drive in the morning.”

I sigh and rise from the bed. “Okay, Jim. We’ll table it for now, but I’ve made my wishes known.”

He says nothing more, so I leave the RV.

Scraggly pines stretch toward the night sky. Their branches look like ink marks against the navy backdrop. Like someone painted this melancholic sight just for me. The stars are white paint splatters winking behind drifts of gesso clouds. I tip my head back and inhale summer air into my lungs while I still can.

Cat and Bennett laugh somewhere nearby. Maverick and Ezra stand by a campfire with Chef and turn hot dogs on sticks. Frankie, Quinn, and Eve sit opposite them, and Josie and Kindra are tucked beneath a tree in the shadows. Judging by their arm movements, they’re discussing stabbing techniques.

Turning a circle, I find Aven, Ice Pick, and that asshole Blayne. Ice Pick and Aven are chatting, nodding their heads and taking turns talking. Blayne stares into the distance, and I follow his gaze to Josie.