Page 137 of Sinners Reunion

Jim originally planned for us to detour over to Yosemite, but the threat of foul weather near our final destination pushed up the timeline. We had to cut out the sight-seeing excursion in favor of hoofing it north as quickly as we could. Kindra and Ezra want to be married at the lake tomorrow. We just have to beat that storm.

I don’t want to think about what happens the next day.

After getting ambushed in the woods, I hurried back to the RV. King was there, waiting for me and worrying where I’d been. I told him I went for a walk. It wasn’t a lie. He hasn’t yet brought up revealing Blayne’s dirty secret, but when he does, I’ll have to convince him to keep it quiet, and not because I give a fuck about Blayne. I just don’t want him to ruin whatever chances King has to convince his kids to let him live.

King’s arm is wrapped around my shoulder as we rock on a swing. The sun sets over a mountain. If a fucking deer walked out right now, this could be a Hallmark moment.

Minus the two naked elderly people wading into the water.

“They really don’t like wearing clothes, do they?” I say.

King sighs. “Oh, to be so free.”

“You will be soon. Tomorrow, you’ll attend your son’s wedding, and in two days, you’ll be reunited with all of your children.”

“Yes, and in two days, two of them will murder me. What a lovely family reunion that will be.”

“Don’t say that. You still have time.”

“I’m afraid he doesn’t,” Jim says. He steps onto the porch, and the aged boards creak underfoot. “The children have voted, and they’d like to move the final day up. Bennett and Aven are tired of waiting, and we can’t host the wedding tomorrow.”

“Tell them no,” King says, sitting forward. “And what’s this about the wedding?”

“The storm has advanced faster than anyone anticipated. It’ll be on us by tomorrow afternoon. Bennett suggested we swap the days around so that they can have a sunny wedding, and even though Kindra and Ezra both fought hard for their wedding to be when they want it—when you’re guaranteed to be in attendance—they were outvoted.”

“Blast and bother,” King mutters. “Can’t we tell them Carter can’t be located until the final day?”

Jim shakes his head. “We’ve given them the impression that he could materialize whenever you and I make that happen. We thought we had everything in hand.”

I tip my head back and let out a groan. “They probably think they’re helping. They want them to have a nice wedding.”

“And I want to be there for it,” King says.

“You still can.” Jim takes a deep breath. “I meant what I said. I’ll tell them it was all my fault, that I did it without your knowledge. You have too much to live for, King. What do I have? Money? My backfiring experiments?”

“That blasted bird, for one,” King grumbles. “You aren’t leaving me to care for him, always masturbating on everything.”

“He has natural urges,” Jim whines.

“You have your nieces and nephews to live for,” I add. “I’d kind of miss you, too, Jim.”

We all look out at the sunset and release a collective sigh. What a mess.

But maybe it’s less of a mess than they realize.

“Was Blayne part of the vote?” I ask.

King and Jim look at me.

“No,” Jim says with a shake of his head. “He and Ice Pick were helping Chef get preparations together for something he referred to as ‘feetza.’ I didn’t ask questions.”

“Let’s keep it from them,” I say.

“Why?” King asks. “I don’t want him around to swoop you up once I’m dead. I want him out of here before tomorrow.”

“No, I see what she’s saying,” Jim says.

“You do?” I clear my throat. “I mean, yes, exactly.” I motion to Jim. “He gets it.”