Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Josie
Sleep wasn’t that hard to come by last night. Despite being locked away in the dungeon, King’s little bet really helped soothe the constant ache between my thighs. It was nice to have the bed to myself as well. I worried it would be awkward to sleep beside him, but he stayed gone all night.
The bathroom situation, however, is not cool. The RV has one, but King didn’t want to fool with water tanks, so I’m forced to use a bucket. That was a shocker the first night—having a chain long enough to shut myself in private, only to discover a bucket for a toilet.
Now I’m no longer chained, but that bucket remains. As does the confined vibe. What a fucking vacation.
I’m awake long enough to brush my teeth and take a desperate piss in the bucket before King finally appears. He unlocks the door and steps into the space as if he didn’t leave me caged in here all night.
His hair springs all over his head, and a few twigs and sprigs of grass give his gray coif some color. The dress shirt is a rumpled, dirt-smudged mess. His belt no longer exists.
“Did you sleep in the fucking woods, dude?”
He looks down at his shirt and attempts to dust off the mud smudges. “We need to dress. The event begins in an hour. I’m headed to the showers if you care to follow.”
“I don’t need a shower, but I’m dying to hear about your night. You look like hell.” I stand from the bed and go to the closet to dress. “Wait, scratch that. Your outward appearance looks like hell, but you seem almost . . . happier.”
King joins me at the closet and begins digging through his things. “Nothing to tell. It’s exactly as I said last night. I needed to blow off steam, so I did, and now I feel much better.”
As he rips off his dress shirt, I notice claw marks on his muscled back. My brain immediately goes to a time I put those same marks on him. Yeah, looks like he was blowing off some steam, all right. He blew it right into someone else.
I don’t want to feel angry or jealous, but damn it, I do.
Emotions aren’t an active choice for me, despite what the psychologists tried to teach me.
No amount of cognitive therapy could retrain the broken machine that is my brain.
The emotions crawl through me and make me feel ways I don’t want to feel.
How can I choose to be happy when images of King sticking his dick in someone else keep playing through my head?
He shoves a few toiletries into a gym bag and straightens. “Are you coming?”
“No, but give me ten minutes and let’s see what happens,” I say as I push past him.
“I only need five, remember?”
“I didn’t mean you.” I smirk at him over my shoulder and exit the RV. As luck would have it, the perfect petty jab walks right into view, accompanied by Ezra and Bennett. “Morning, Blayne! Just the man I was looking for.”
King scoffs and steps around me, heading for the showers.
Blayne’s head whips toward me as I wiggle my fingers. He comes to a halt, and Ezra and Bennett stop with him. All three men look serious as the grave.
I look back at King to see if he’s noticed, but he spares them little more than a glance before continuing on.
Meanwhile, he had it right when he called me Nosey Parker, which is British slang for someone who puts their nose in everyone’s business. I just call it caring.
“Is something amiss?” I say as I step closer to the trio. “You three look like you just found out what happened to Harambe.”
Bennett points to the other end of the RV semi-circle. He grimaces, then says, “Lice Pick locked Blayne out of the RV. He won’t let anyone inside, and we’re worried about him.”
“I told him to stop after two beers, but the guy doesn’t know his limits,” Blayne says.
“When he came in this morning, he had a nasty hangover. He looked like shit when he went straight to his cabin in the back of our rig. I figured he’d cuddle with his girl a little and maybe skip the event, but when I came back from the showers, the door was locked and he was crying. ”
“What about Charity?” I ask. “Is he holding her hostage?”
Blayne shrugs. “No clue. She isn’t hollering or anything, so I’m not that worried about her. Fuck her, honestly. She’s probably the reason he’s so upset, the little hussy. I caught her trying to make eyes at that British grump-ass last night.” He looks at Ezra. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Ezra says.
Cat, Eve, and the elderly couple who drugged me wander over. Concern only grows as the newcomers learn of Lice Pick’s current state. I listen as they discuss how to handle things.
Meanwhile, my brain is back on that bit about Charity flirting with King.
I hate to make an ass out of you and me, but too many puzzle pieces slide into place, and I don’t like what I see.
The passion scratches on his back; staying out all night; his vastly improved mood—they all point to one thing.
King got laid last night, and Charity was the recipient of those blown frustrations.
That cunt. I don’t even know who she is, and I want to claw her eyes out already. And for more reasons than this stupid jealousy I have no reason to feel. Cheaters fucking suck.
More Sinners join the discussion, and by the time King finishes with his shower and returns to the group, it’s a regular party.
We’re only missing Jim and the two people suspected to be holed up in the RV at the other end of the lot.
We’re ready to break down doors and get to the bottom of things, but King isn’t so sure.
“Perhaps he’s feeling under the weather,” he says, and I hate how good he looks right out of the shower.
Couple that with the fresh suit and tie, and I’m almost ready to forgive him.
“Maybe he and his woman are having a bit of a spat. Regardless, when he’s ready to talk about it, he will.
Until then, we have an event to attend.”
I smirk to myself. I just bet he’d love to shove this under the rug. And because he looks so delicious, I’m almost ready to let him. After all, we aren’t anything serious and he’s free to fuck whomever he pleases.
But almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and it doesn’t matter if makes sense or not. I’m pissed.
“Why don’t we go talk to him, just to be safe?” I say, more than happy to go against the asshole. “We don’t have to go so far as breaking down doors, but we should at least check on the poor guy. I mean, a bald guy with a name like Lice Pick has enough going against him.”
“No time, no time,” Jim says as he approaches the group. Bodies part to allow him into the center. “I’ve heard enough, and I’m here to put an end to the discussion. We’re going to the event, and that’s final.”
“Jim, I’m not comfortable playing a game until I know he’s okay,” Blayne says, and I nod to show my solidarity.
King rolls his eyes and drags his hands down his face.
“I’m with Blayne too,” Eve adds. “While all of you are coupled off, I end up spending a lot of time with that roly-poly little fuck, and I’m not going to the event until I’ve at least laid eyes on him. Even if it’s through a window.”
Murmurs of agreement drift around the group until only King and Jim remain as detractors. Those two might be heartless, but the rest of us can’t go murder people in the woods while he’s crying in his room. It just isn’t right.
“I don’t think any of you realize what you’re saying,” Jim says with a shake of his head. “The event was set to begin twenty minutes ago. If we don’t get started immediately, we might as well call the damn thing off. Cleanup will take time, and I’ve only booked the field for another six hours.”
“I can’t stick around that long. My package is at a post office in town,” Bennett says. “If I don’t pick it up by five, they’ll send it back.”
“You and this godforsaken—” Jim places his fingers on his temples.
“What is so damn important that you had to have it shipped in? Hmm? The Dollar General breeding program is healthy as ever. Could you not find what you needed from one of their black-and-gold offspring dotting the entire countryside?”
“That’s not important right now,” King says, taking control of the spiraling situation. “We’ll go and tend to the bastard and cut our losses with this event. We’ll get Bennett to the blasted post office to pick up his mysterious delivery of fruits and vegetables—”
“Hey!” Bennett barks.
“—and then we’ll carry on to the site in Tennessee with no more interruptions.
I mean it.” King points at Jim while keeping his eyes on us.
“This man has worked too hard to put this together for you ungrateful lot. I don’t care if your arms and legs fall off.
You’d best be at the next event with bells on. Is everyone bloody clear?”
Heads nod, and a few people even speak their agreement aloud. Meanwhile, I’m still wiping the drool from my chin after hearing him use his authoritative tone.
You’re pissed at him, remember?
Yeah, but my pussy would love to pretend we aren’t.
I steal a few glances as we move as a group toward the other end of the field. Something about him is different, and I can’t put my finger on it. It isn’t just the cocky walk of a man who emptied his balls the night before. There’s something—
“You didn’t shave,” I say with a smirk. “Is someone trying to prove they know how to cut loose?”
King scratches the stubble at his jaw. “I’m on vacation. I never shave on vacation.”
“Then why’d you make me turn around for your grooming kit when you forgot it?” Gary asks, genuine confusion on his face. “You even said you’d be damned if you walked into the public eye without a clean lineup.”
King sets his jaw and walks a little faster.
We reach the RV tucked toward the end. It’s a lot longer than the others in the fleet because it has an extension on the back for the extra bed. It’s basically its own attached camper, and that’s where Lice Pick and his lady love have locked themselves away.
Jim sniffles and steps off to the side as the others crowd the door.
King joins him, and I stay close. I’m dying to see what happens when Lice Pick confronts him for sleeping with his woman.
I’m sure the scrappy little fellow can get in one good punch before the rest of the Sinners hold King back from sending him to an early grave.
He wouldn’t stand a chance if King actually fought him.
No one would.
Blayne bangs on the door, glancing back at the rest of us when Lice Pick wails something about leaving him alone. He slams his fist against the metal again.
‘“Come on, Pick. Whatever’s got you all upset, it can’t be that bad.”
“It is that bad,” Lice Pick wails. “We were in a committed relationship, and she cheated on me!”
I glance at King’s face to see his reaction, but the man’s countenance is a stone mask. It doesn’t even slip.
“If you come out now, we can still do the event,” Jim says. “It might cheer you up to kill something.”
“Too late for that,” Lice Pick whimpers.
The locks click, and the door squeaks open. When he steps into the morning sunlight, gasps ricochet through the group.
Red circles rim his eyes, which are puffy from crying. He doesn’t look like the sort of man who would cry, even over a woman, so that’s a bit shocking. But it’s not the most shocking thing about his appearance.
Because Lice Pick is covered from head to toe in blood.