Page 50 of Sinners Reunion

The door to the camper flies open, and Chef Maurice drops a brown paper bag on the entryway floor. Onions and a few potatoes roll across the linoleum as Josie and I scramble to make it seem like we were doing anything other than what we were. It’s hard to argue with my ass in the wind, however.

“Get out! Out!” Chef’s face turns a shade of red I’ll see in my nightmares.

I reach for my shorts, panicking as I nearly fall trying to pull them up. Josie is unbothered, giggling up a storm as my foot connects with a potato and sends it skittering down the middle of the bus.

Chef’s eyes widen, and he blocks the door as I try to escape. “What the hell is that? Is that mayo on my counter? And why are there peppers on the floor?” He looks between us. “Is everyone a filthy food fucker? I can’t work in these conditions!”

“We came here so that you can tell me where King was the night Charity cheated on Ice Pick,” Josie says. The girl has guts, bringing that up at a time like this, but it works in my favor this time.

He points a finger at me and bares his teeth. “I won’t keep your secrets. He didn’t send my assistants back to the facility. He spent all evening torturing and killing them, just as I’m going to do to both of you if you don’t get out of my sight!”

With a dramatic sidestep, he throws out his arm and commands us to head for the door. We tuck our tails and do exactly that. We don’t stop stepping until we’re outside in the fresh air.

We come to a stop, both of us smiling in disbelief that we escaped. But then her smile falls, and she grows serious.

She rubs her arms, looking down at the ground. “You really didn’t fuck Charity, did you?”

I shake my head. “I did not.”

She takes a moment to come to terms with her idea of me and the reality of me. It’s difficult when the two sides don’t match.

“You still meant what you said earlier, though, right?” she asks. “About finding out who fucked over Ice Pick?”

I give her a single nod. “By the end of this trip, someone will pay for hurting my friend.”

Before I can elaborate further, a shout emanates from the bus. “What in the hell were you cooking, and why is there so much shit in my trash can?”

Josie and I stare at each other.

“Is that a penis?” Chef bellows.

I grab Josie’s hand. Together, we make a break for the safety of our RV. It’s getting late, and I need some rest. We have a long drive tomorrow, and I have so much to think about.

Chapter Fifteen

King

From Tennessee, we pushed on until we reached Wisconsin. This road trip isn’t a straight line across the United States. Rather, it’s more of a heartbeat monitor, zigging and zagging, but always carrying us toward our destination.

The drive to the farm should have taken us one day, but Jim demanded we stop in Indiana to see the world’s largest ball of paint, where we each added a layer. Bennett also added a bit of his mother. We felt it in poor taste to make a roadside attraction part of her eternal rest, but the lad insisted. None of us had the heart to argue further.

All told, the little side quest added a day to our journey.

It’s not a big deal if the timing is a bit off, but I don’t want to drag out this time with Josie. I just want to enjoy the moments I have left with her. And slay a few more Cattle, of course.

The next event waits at a secret facility in a section of cheese country Jim commandeered many years ago. Back then, he thought he might take a break from his experiments and try his hand at ranching. He bought everything he needed—lots of land, a decent head of cattle, and the best cutting horses money could buy.

His interest waned after two weeks. We sold off the cattle and kept the horses and staff. With a little direction, I turned it into a horse farm.

I’m excited for Josie to see the place. My pet name for her actually has nothing to do with her appearance and everything to do with a discussion we had about the merits of a good horse. With her upbringing, she had more horse knowledge than most women.

She is my Black Beauty, the beast who could do it all; the indomitable creature who could stomp its defiant hooves in the face of life. The horse who would not lie down and die.

In a way, it’s even more fitting now. Much like the dark horse, my little chestnut filly has been reunited with the groom who admired her all those years ago.

Granted, Joe Green didn’t want to bend Black Beauty over a table, but my point stands. She’s been returned to me by some twist of fate named Jim, and now I have to figure out what to do with that.

As excited as I am to show her the horses and the ranch, I’m more eager to get out of this RV. Things have been awkward since calling a semi-truce. Once she realized I didn’t fuck Charity, she lost the desire to bite my head off at every turn.