Chapter 28
CASEY
I don’t need silence, I need bass. Music blares so loud it almost makes my head hurt. Almost. But it feels so good. With my hands behind my head, I stare at the ceiling, unblinking until my eyes hurt.
Why the hell did I tell Kendra about David? I told myself I’d go to my grave with that secret, but it was eating me alive. And I don’t generally get eaten alive by secrets I keep. If I did, I’d probably be in jail.
It’s always weird to be laying in bed while the RV rolls on. Sun streams through the windows, making the small room brighter than I want right now, but it’s fine.
Everything is fine. Especially since Charles will be dead soon.
I sit up and push to my knees slowly to reach into the cabinet above me to grab my sketch pad and crayons. There’s something about drawing out a plan with crayons that I love. Oh, and glitter pens! I grab my stash and hope they aren’t all dried up. That would be a tragedy.
I spread out the colors in rainbow order. There’s a fuck ton, so it takes me a bit of time. Having every shade available means I can add subtle details that only I notice.
I pull up the blueprint of the convention center and start plotting Charles’s murder. Probably should have done this earlier, but I wasn’t ready. Sure, he knocked up my mom, but that doesn’t make him anything to me. Not even my god anymore.
So why the hell have I been hesitating? Taking him out will save countless lives.
Save countless children from the life we lived or worse.
Maybe we should have gone after him as soon as we learned who he was from Darla.
Our spies said the man didn’t have a kid with him as far as they could tell and he never met up with any.
All of the evidence points that he’s either stopped or he’s much more sophisticated than he used to be. I wouldn’t doubt it. Charles was always adapting. Always finding ways to punish the servants if we didn’t do what he wanted. It didn’t matter that I was his blood. I think he hated me.
I kick my legs as I draw and scheme while laying on my tummy in the twin bed.
Charles has several panels and appearances scheduled.
We already have our assigned parking spots in the lot for RVs so I could get him there.
Thankfully, he won’t be anywhere near our tank.
I don’t want him touching our baby. That fucker cost a pretty penny.
The RV moves to the right and decelerates. We must be switching drivers. I should probably join everyone again, but I’m not done with my plans.
I could snipe Charles from the roof. Kendra would be able to kill the security cams for a bit of time.
But that just feels too easy for Charles.
No, I want him to suffer. Suffer hard. I want him to hurt.
I want to watch the light drain from his eyes.
I want my audience to tell me how to kill him.
I want to waterboard him and pull off his fingernails.
A frustrated growl leaves my lips. Then I go back to flipping through the blueprints. Maybe I can find a nice soundproof room no one goes to and I can set up a Nightmare show. I haven’t told my little freaks there won’t be a show this week, but maybe there will be.
I spread my work out on both twin beds and stare at the possibilities. So many.
The big problem is going to be getting him alone. I have ideas, but I hate every single one of them.
There’s a soft knock and the accordion door slides open slowly.
“Hey,” Kendra says, even though she knows I can’t hear her.
I slide the headphones around my neck.
“We’re grabbing some lunch. Want to come with us? Some local fast food place.”
My stomach rumbles and I nod.
“Doing better?” She looks at my art and laughs at the one I labeled Die Hard with a stick figure falling off the roof of the convention center. “Love it. Can I help you push him off?”
I nod and get to my feet. The art stays where it’s at and I follow her through the RV and out into the parking lot.
The place is called Cluck Cluck Box, so I’m guessing chicken.
“Sounded good,” Hayden says, holding up his phone.
Dallas holds out his hand, and I take it.
There’s something so comforting about his big warm hand covering mine.
Sure, I’ve had countless hookups, but Dallas.
There’s something about Dallas that soothes me.
I have to remind myself he’s not a hookup anymore, he’s my partner.
At least he is so far. He could decide by the time we get to Influencer Con that he wants nothing to do with me, then I might have to kill him too.
I pull my phone from my pocket and start making an order.
I’m not ready to talk to anyone, but being around them is fine.
My headphones still ring around my neck and if the noise gets too loud, I’ll pop them back on.
Funny. Heavy bass soothes me, but the sound of clattering loud people around me makes me want to run through a window.
Steel wool scrubs inside my brain. I really need to take out Charles sooner rather than later.
The door clucks loudly as we enter. Nope. The headphones go on and I sigh in relief.
The scent of fried food hits me in the face, but not in a bad way. I breathe it in. Oh, maybe I need food. That will probably help.
We make our way to the short line and I watch the tracker on my phone as they work on my order. Had I realized they had kiosks inside, I would have waited to order. Oh well.
Doesn’t take long for all of us to get our meals and instead of eating in, we take it back to the RV.
Dallas slides in next to me in the dinette, trapping me in, but it makes me feel safe instead of terrified. We’re all silent and I hate that it’s probably because of me, but I’m still not ready for more words. I worded hard today already. I deserve quiet lips to process. Or to scheme.
Kendra knocks her shoulder into Hayden’s. “How old are you? You’re the little nerdy behind-the-scenes guy. Everyone knows Dallas is thirty-two because three months ago you made a whole birthday post.” She squints at Hayden. “You’re younger though. I just feel it in my bones.”
Thank fuck for Kendra for breaking the tension. It’s as if we all release a breath.
“Twenty-eight.” Hayden bites into his chicken strip and his eyes flutter back. “Holy fuck, this is good.”
We all hum in agreement. Everyone keeps away from heavy topics while I eat and listen. When I’m done, I wipe my hands on my napkin and drop my head onto Dallas’s shoulder.
So tired. Mentally and emotionally exhausted. I can’t do the vulnerable thing every day. I rub my head along his arm before settling down. Just need a bit of comfort.
Dallas wraps his arm around me. “Do you want cuddles when we get started again?”
I nod.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze back there,” Kendra says. “Unless you want to push the twins together. Or stay up here on the couch.”
I tip my head toward the couch.
“Couch it is,” Dallas says before kissing my temple.
We wrap up lunch and Kendra takes over the driving while I cuddle next to Dallas. I pass out wrapped in his arms.