Page 35 of Sinners Reunion

“I was locked away like a prisoner, so it couldn’t have been me,” Josie offers. She turns her green eyes toward me. “What about you, King? You never returned to the RV after you locked the doors.”

I smile at her. “I have no alibi.”

“Not sure how loudly I’d declare that,” Kindra says as she and Ezra start toward the bathrooms.

“Yeah, sure would be a shame if everyone hated you as much as I do.” Josie flicks her hair over her shoulder and saunters away.

She means it now—the hatred. The girl believed she could handle a no-strings relationship all those years ago, but she proves time and time again she isn’t the sort who can be loved and left. Even now, when I’ve only eaten her pussy to settle a bet, she feels she has a claim on me.

Blowing off steam didn’t have quite the desired outcome, though, because I feel the same way about her.

Damn.

We sit around a large fire. Most of us, anyway. Maurice hobbled off once the talk about Charity started up again. He said he had to go clean up after dinner, but in reality, he’s following my orders and walking away before he says something he shouldn’t.

You see, he’s my alibi for last night, but I don’t want little Miss Nosey Josie to know I wasn’t balls deep in Ice Pick’s woman. I want to get to the bottom of things and wring the bastard’s neck myself, but I want to toy with the silly bird a bit first.

“So who does that leave?” Cat asks. She counts heads and recalls alibis. “Bennett and I were fucking. So were Kindra and Ezra. Maverick and Frankie saw her wandering around the RV camp before they went to bed, but Blayne saw her right after that.”

“As did I,” I say, willing to heap the suspicion my way now.

The tighter I can wind that little redhead, the more delicious she’ll be when she comes undone. And I’ve decided she will, whether Jim pushes me with another bet or not. By letting her think I fucked that woman, I’m merely improving my chances of success. Jealousy is an aphrodisiac for my beauty.

Josie raises her finger. “I’ve been following along. The only people not accounted for are Eve, King, Chef, Gary, Blayne, Jim⁠—”

“Basically anyone aside from you who isn’t in a relationship?” Frankie offers.

“Exactly,” Eve says. “Which is unfair. I like a pair of big titties as much as the next person, but I would never fuck my friend’s girl. All of you should know me better than that.”

I glance at Blayne. “Yes, I think we know everyone well enough . . . aside from one of us.”

“Ain’t no way,” Ice Pick says. “Blayne’s my best friend. If she even so much as came onto him, he would have told me.”

That’s a slap in my face, but it’s deserved. I had no plans to tell Ice Pick how his deceased lover tried to grab my dick through my pants. The man struggles so with women, and I thought it would only damage his confidence. This Charity person wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I question if she’s even a real serial killer.

Well, was a serial killer. Now she lies six feet below the Georgia pines.

“I was drugged, so it wasn’t me,” Blayne says. He rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head. “She must have seen an opportunity and seized it.”

More like this asshole saw an opportunity and seized his best-friend’s girl.

“Well, as fun as this is, we have an event in the morning, and I’ll be damned if I miss this one.” I stand and stretch, then motion for Josie to join me.

She looks at my hand as if I’m offering a dirty nappy.

“No thanks. I don’t know where those fingers have been.” She rises to stand; at least she’s being obedient.

“Don’t worry, Ice Pick,” I call over my shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. And when we do—” I turn my attention toward Blayne, but Josie steps directly into my line of sight.

Ice Pick? she mouths. She grits her teeth, clenches her tiny fists, and widens her eyes. Then she mouths it again, forming every syllable with her mouth as loudly as she can. Fucking Ice Pick?

I see her die a little inside, and I suppose that’s enough.

“Yes, you’ve been calling him the wrong name all this time, and now you’re the butt of the joke.” I smile down at her. “Ha. Ha. Now let’s get you to bed.”

She’s too stunned by her embarrassment to argue. But by the time we get to the RV, she’s ready for a rebuttal.

“You aren’t locking me in here again,” she says with a shake of her head. “Hell no. I refuse to sit on my ass while you’re out there playing Whack-a-Mole with every vagina in a one-hundred-yard radius.”