Page 66 of Sinners Reunion

Josie responds before I can. “After you stitched up my arm, I don’t see how we can say no. But please, it’s on us.”

“By us, you mean me,” I mutter.

“King!”

Right, right. I should be grateful they helped the little brat at all. “Our treat,” I say to Rose. “In fact, I’ll plan the whole thing.”

I have just the place in mind.

Chapter Twenty

Josie

Asixteen-hour drive took closer to twenty, but we rolled into Louisiana a little after lunch. Not even flat tires and multiple potty breaks could stop us.

Gary and Blayne took turns swapping with Eve and Jim so that we could keep this caravan rolling. Gary helped out of the goodness of his heart, but Blayne’s trying to absolve some guilt, I think.

As he should.

He’s a Texan, for fuck’s sake. They’re the most gun-savvy humans on the planet. Walk into any backroom at a Fort Worth gun convention, and I guarantee you’ll see at least five of them circle jerking it around the newest safety guidelines. Blayne should have known better than to aim center mass, even with a fake weapon. You only do that when you mean to stop your target.

I shudder in the passenger seat when I think of what could have happened if King hadn’t moved. Then I shudder again when I remember that he did move, clearing the way for my injury. It’s difficult to rationalize the warring emotions, so I stop trying. Whether he lives or dies, I’ll be miserable either way.

“We’ll rest here tonight,” King says, putting the RV in park. We’re at yet another campground. “Then we’ll set off for the event area in the morning.”

I cover my mouth as I yawn. “Why aren’t we camping at the site?”

“Not safe. Too many gators. Wouldn’t want them to eat you.”

It would be nice to be eaten, honestly. I’ve had zero playtime since the bushes, and my one-track mind runs right through a gutter. It’s all I can think about.

King looks at his watch, then closes his eyes and tips his head against the seat. “Wake me in a few hours. We have that dinner thing with the German and Rose.”

“They were serious about that?”

“Quite.”

“I was kind of hoping it was just a polite gesture.”

“Hope in one hand. Shit in the other. Let me know which hand fills faster.”

I curl my lip at him, but he doesn’t see. His eyes are still closed. “I have a better idea. I’ll jack you off with one hand and rub myself with the other. Let’s see which of us comes faster.”

He cracks one eye and peeks at me. “As tempting as that is, we’ll do no such thing until we set our ground rules.”

So he’s keen on the rules again? He’s so hot and cold. I can’t keep up. It’s making me uneasy, if I can be honest.

“You were the one who said we can’t use the same rules,” I say. “I was fine with what we had in place before.”

“Okay, same terms.” He clears his throat and closes his eyes again. “Just make sure you don’t get attached.”

“And no kissing.”

His eye pops open again. “Right. No kissing.” He closes his eye and settles deeper into the seat. “We never really talked about that rule when you made it five years ago. It’s quite strange. What’s it about, anyhow?”

“You’re just now questioning why you can shove anything but your tongue in my mouth?”

“Puh, keep your secrets, then. It’s probably something silly, like you’re worried I might comment on your breath.”