Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
King
Icreep away from Eve’s RV and head toward the fire. If steam could billow from human ears, it would bloody well explode from mine.
I slow my stomping before I reach the glowing circle at the edge of the field. I don’t want anyone asking me what has my knickers in a twist. The reason is so silly that even Jim and Maverick would laugh at me, softhearted as they both are.
Because it didn’t hurt that Frankie, Kindra, and Eve wanted to guard Josie’s heart. It didn’t even hurt when they reinforced my developing complex about the way I dress.
Actually . . . that one stung a bit, if I’m being honest.
But what nearly made me rip down the damn door was Josie’s audacity to ask about that curly-haired, dimple-chinned, lovesick puppy who eye-humps her legs any chance he has. And right after I gave her the best tongue lashing of her life, too!
I’ve a right mind to take the lad into the woods and castrate him. I worked on a ranch for a summer in Essex. It would take me no time at all.
No. No. Wouldn’t be right.
I should take the cock and the balls.
I chuckle to myself, my mood slightly lifted. It’s risen enough to approach the lot of blokes gathered by the fire, anyway. I start up the small hill and take in the group as the ground levels out.
Ice Pick has his shirt off now. A beer sits atop his belly, balanced like a magic trick. He belches and swipes the spittle from his mustache.
I grimace.
Jim and Gary sit together on a log opposite Ice Pick. They give me a wave, and I wander closer. As I draw nearer, I recognize Ezra and Grim. Their backs face me, but I know those silhouettes. Rosie sits on the ground between Grim’s legs, her curly hair poking above his lap like a massive gray bush.
I step beside Ice Pick and study the RVs in the distance. “Where are the crew quarters?” I ask Jim.
We planned a lot of this trip together, but he handled the staff and Cattle accommodations.
Jim looks at Gary, who sits up a little straighter and says, “We have special arrangements with decommissioned prisons along the way. Little pockets of Cattle for us to use for events. Our crew members stay with the security team we’ve hired.
They live in the guard areas. The Cattle stay in isolated holding cells as prisoners. ”
“Very good, Gary!” Jim says with a clap of his hands. “We’re working on his confidence building. With a little time, we’ll make a Sinner of him yet.”
“I still feel guilty about riding with you guys. I haven’t earned my place,” Gary says.
“Puh, stop that talk.” I point across the fire at him. “You’ve killed. It doesn’t matter how many you’ve bagged. It’s something that you’ve gotten your dick wet at all.”
“But stick with King, and he’ll make sure you bag plenty more,” a female voice—her damn voice—calls from the other side of the hill. “Wanna talk about getting your dick wet? They’ll call your dick a fucking water park once he’s taught you his ways.”
Girlish laughter follows her voice, which continues away from the fire. The other ladies must be walking her to the RV, meaning I still have time to cool off away from her. I’m God’s favorite after all.
“We weren’t talking about sexual conquests, Nosey Parker!” I shout toward the fading sound of footsteps.
Jim clears his throat. “So, I take it things between you and your roommate are not going as well as her screaming orgasm led me to believe?”
“How observant you are,” Grim says under his breath.
Rosie smiles at him and rests her forearms and chin on his bony thighs. He’s wearing short khaki shorts and a white tank top, and she’s looking up at him as if she wants to rip off every stitch.
Someone once looked up at me like that. Her red hair had looked like fire that night.
The poor girl had needed an outlet for her misery all those years ago.
I had needed a distraction after losing Quinn’s mother, Marcia.
A young, pretty redhead seemed a good enough thing to hold my attention and keep my mind away from other matters.
So, I plucked her from Jim’s suicide-study program and tried to cheer her up.
Something about seeing so much sadness within such a strong, intelligent, beautiful young woman just broke my heart.
My intentions remained purely innocent at first—a man who wanted to help someone unleash their frustration.
At first.
Things changed, however.
Chef Maurice scares the shit out of Jim as he approaches from the darkness, and the piercing shriek drags me away from memory lane. It’s for the best. I remember some of these things a bit too fondly.
“I’ve dropped meal boxes at each doorstep. They’ll only be hot for a couple of hours, though, so don’t wait too long to grab them.” Chef scratches his nose, looks at his finger, and wipes it on his apron. “Critters might get into it, too. Bugs and shit out here.” He swats at a moth.
“What’s for dinner tonight?” Ezra asks.
Chef Maurice rolls his eyes, then looks at Jim as he says, “Someone wouldn’t let me murder Raul for a nice stew, so enjoy your bland veggie water.”
“Who the hell is Raul?” I ask.
Gary raises his finger and sits a little straighter. “Jim allowed Chef Maurice to bring two Cattle into his—”
“Jim? You what?” My eyes nearly get as big as Gary’s.
“Now, don’t get upset,” Jim says, hands raised in a placating gesture as he gets to his feet. “He wanted some help around the kitchen, and I don’t do dishes.”
“You didn’t feel the need to discuss any of this with me?
Cattle, Jim? Fucking Cattle?” My voice damn near cracks as it rises, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I speak another word.
“You could have sent some staff with him. Hell, let Gary wash his damn dishes since he still thinks he’s on the payroll.
You’ve put everyone at risk. You’ve put everything at risk. ”
For once in his life, Jim Madigan doesn’t have a rebuttal. He knows it’ll do him no good.
I’m often right, and I often let it slide when I am. I only bring it up now because he’s jeopardizing people’s lives, as well as years of hard work. Two Cattle slaughtering us in our sleep wasn’t part of the scenarios we ran before decommissioning that simulator.
I point at Chef Maurice. “I want them taken to the nearest facility immediately, understood?”
Wide-eyed, he nods.
I point at Jim. “No more Cattle in the caravan. No more solo decisions of this magnitude. Understood?”
Jim nods, a pout on his face.
I run my hands through my hair and try not to scream into the sky. I’m surrounded by imbeciles.
“Are you heading to bed soon?” Ezra asks. “Ice . . . I mean, Lice Pick . . . Say, how long are we expected to keep up the silly name?”
I grit my teeth. “Until I damn well tire of it. Will that suffice?”
I had planned to let Josie in on the joke about misunderstanding the man’s name, but after hearing what she had to say to her new friends, after hearing that she’s still stuck on that lad? Well, I just might have to let her call him that a little longer.
With a grunt, I turn and march into the darkness before I say something I can’t take back. The campfire kumbaya is doing fuck all for my sour mood.
“Wait,” Ezra says. “Lice Pick passed out at some point, and I don’t think I can carry him alone.”
“Leave him,” I snap.
Ice Pick isn’t my problem, and neither is his alcohol intolerance.
Jim clears his throat, but I keep walking.
As I near the first few RVs, I spot a flash of blonde hair in the moonlight. Below the hair sits a pair of breasts her surgeon should be proud of. Meanwhile, I’m proud of myself for noticing her hair first.
How did a man like Ice Pick get a woman like her? She’s wearing a white nightie. A robe hangs over that, but it’s see-through, so why even mention it? She peers around the side of the RV as if she’s expecting someone.
“Charity?” I say.
She jumps, and as I look at her more closely, I see she can’t be much older than Josie. She places her hand over her ample—and very exposed—bosom and smiles at me.
“I think I’m a little lost. Chad’s RV is hard to find in the dark.”
She takes a step closer and places her hand on my arm. At first, I think she’s merely steadying herself in those ridiculous white heels, but when she looks up at me, she bats her dark lashes. A smile follows, showcasing her veneers. The gentle, practiced giggle is music to any man’s ears.
“Would you help me find it?” she says, and that’s when her hand moves away from my arm and ventures lower. “Or maybe I could help you find yours.”
“Charity? Is that you over there?” Blayne trots up as the lusty lass takes a healthy step away from me, pulling her proposition with her.
She shakes her head a bit, begging me not to say anything, but she doesn’t have to worry. I won’t say a word to this bellend. I give her a wink to reassure her.
“There you are,” the slow-talking jackass says. Must he drawl everything? He looks between me and Charity disapprovingly, then turns his full attention to her. “Pick’s my best friend, and I promised him I’d keep an eye on you. What are you doing out here with this guy?”
“This guy is none of your damn business.” I begin removing my suit jacket so that I may roll up my sleeves and pummel him as is proper.
“Jeez, Blayne, calm down,” Charity whines. “Stop trying to fight everyone who talks to me. You know I’d never cheat on Chad. He was just helping me because I got lost.”
She motions toward me, and the gravitational pull of her wobbling chest nearly grabs my gaze.
Steady, old man.
Blayne looks back at me one more time before grabbing her arm and trying to haul her back to the RV. She drags her little feet in the grass and wiggles free.
“I’ll go back to my cage in a moment,” Charity says. “Now go, or I’ll tell Chad what you did to his watermelon.”
Blayne looks at me. “It was Bennett’s—”
“Say no more.” I raise my hands. “Please.”
That’s enough to get the boy to stomp off, but the persistent little flirt remains. I stay around to hear what she’ll say next.
Once lover boy has hoofed it a sufficient distance, she finally leans closer and whispers, “Give me thirty minutes, then meet me behind the showers.”
My eyebrows shoot into my hairline, but she scampers off before I can offer a reply.
Flabbergasted, I head to my RV, which is at the other end of the semicircle.
I pass the fire again. Peeking over the hill, I see that only Ice Pick remains. A twinge of guilt eats away at me for not helping them carry him off earlier. Now there’s no one around to help. They’ve all bedded down for the night.
At least it’s warm out, and the smoke will keep the bugs away.
When I reach the RV, I don’t go inside. I’m still too angry. In fact, I’ve decided I’m not sleeping here tonight. Josie didn’t miss the sex, after all, and she’s so focused on Blayne that—
I unclench my jaw before I break a tooth. I have got to stop thinking about her this way.
But then I look up and see her outline in the window.
The gentle curve of her breast as she turns to the side.
She can’t consent to this voyeurism, however, so I turn away.
It’s a promise I made the moment I learned what happened to the girl to land her in Jim’s facility, and it’s a promise I will always keep, even when she doesn’t realize it. That’s when it matters most.
She isn’t consenting to anyone else tonight, either, though. I’ll make sure of that.
I open the RV door, shove the box of food inside, and close the door again.
“Hey, what the hell?” she says when she hears the door squeak shut. The subtle click of the locks is almost simultaneous.
In just a few button mashes, I’ve secured every door and window in the RV.
It’s not foolproof, and if she really wanted to escape, she could climb through the roof hatch, but it’s enough to set my mind at ease.
Even at her most desperate for a good dicking down, she’ll not climb through any tight spaces.
Or walk through a field of spiders. Or venture into the dark, use a dirty bathroom . . . the girl has myriad terms and conditions.
I pat the side of the RV. “Just keeping you secure for the evening. I’ve decided to let you have the accommodations to yourself tonight. There’s food in the box if you’re hungry.”
“No bets to win tonight?”
“Why? Do you wish to get off again? I thought you tired of my abilities long ago.”
Silence ticks for a beat before she puts it together. “You were listening to us? Oh, that’s low, even for you, King! How much did you hear? You aren’t supposed to listen to girl talk, dude.”
I check my watch and realize there’s no time to sit here arguing with her. If I’m not careful, I’ll miss my window to release some of this frustration that’s been building inside me.
It’s been too long. Too fucking long.
“Sleep well, my beauty,” I say as I walk away. “I need to go blow off some steam.”