Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Josie
Iwanted to scream and back away the moment I opened my eyes this morning. It was as if Luca Brasi paid me a visit, but not even Don Corleone would be this cruel. A horse’s head is nothing compared to waking up beside your ex.
Also, fuck all these shit-ass butterflies in my guts. They’ve been swimming in stomach acid and making a real mess of things since I woke up. Beside him. In a bed.
The flutters only persisted as he politely apologized for not discussing sleeping arrangements first. Then he brought me breakfast—two eggs, scrambled, with a bit of ketchup over the top—and I damn near asked him when he wants his dick sucked.
King hasn’t pampered me like this since the night he left me.
And as he’s donning a camo getup and trying to find the armholes in a blazing-orange hunting vest, that’s when it strikes me.
King is up to something. He buttered me up all those years ago so that the blow wouldn’t strike its mark quite as hard, so what is he buttering me up for this time?
I push my legs into a pair of hideous camo pants and smirk to myself.
He thinks he’s playing a game, but I’m the one with all the cards.
I know that he slept with Ice Pick’s lover, and shame on him for that.
Also, shame on him for being a shitbag and making everyone play along so that I’d keep calling the poor guy the wrong fucking name.
If he thinks he can just keep sweet and get back in my good graces after fucking that Dolly Parton wannabe, he’s in for a rude awakening, but I’ll let him keep it up. For now.
“We won’t actually be hunting animals, will we?” I study the shotgun lying beside me on the bed. “I like the meat-eating part, but the killing part? Not so much.”
“You didn’t get the urge to abuse animals from your parents? Certainly rubbed off on your brother.”
I sigh and pull the gun into my lap. “You remember how I like my eggs, but you don’t remember how much I adore animals. That’s why I saved that sloth, you know. She was set to be shipped to another backwoods operation, but I stole her.”
“Stole her? Didn’t your brother’s possessions shift to you upon his death?” He tucks an orange cap on his head, blocking all that glorious gray.
With a frown, I rise and go to his side. He tries to take a step back when I reach up, but then he relents and lets me fix him. I adjust the cap so that it’s backward and a bit of gray can still peek through the keyhole.
Too bad he won’t let me fix the rest of him.
“There. Now you can be our bait. One of those female Cattle is liable to run right for you.” I raise my finger gun. “Then I’ll get her. Blam! Right in the asshole.”
“Yes, and while you’re butt-fucking her with your finger, I’ll be busy blowing her brains out with the shotgun.”
“God, you Europeans are so literal.”
We grab the single pump-action shotgun we’re meant to share, and then we exit the RV. I’m glad when I see everyone else looks as silly as we do. Well, all except Blayne and Ice Pick. They look like they were made for this outfit.
Jim and Gary are the only two not wearing camo as they approach the group.
“Is that everyone, now?” Jim says, placing a black gift bag at his feet.
Maverick raises his hand. “Everyone but Grim and Rosie. They said something about sunning their buttholes, and I didn’t want to know more.”
Jim clears his throat and raises his eyebrows. “Noted.”
He stands before us in his suit and explains the game. We’re meant to search the woods for Cattle, then shoot them on the spot. The Cattle have been secured in specific zones, but they’ve been assured they’ll be released if they go without detection. This is basically murder hide-and-seek.
“What about the whole Carter aspect?” Ezra asks.
“Yeah.” Bennett adjusts a cardboard box under his arm. “When do we get to the part where we murder our father?”
“All in good time,” Jim says. “For now, we need to bait him out a bit more. If any of you happens across a stream, I suggest you follow it until you find a cabin. Inside, there are three special targets.”
The group releases a collective groan.
“Not Normies or feds or anything like that,” Jim says with a roll of his eyes. “These three are a few of the targets Carter wants to tidy up before ending his spree. He plans to strike tomorrow, so we’ll take them out today.”
“The notes, Jim?” King says.
“Oh, right. Also, each Carter child should leave a note behind for their father. Say whatever is on your mind. I’ll make sure they get into his hands.”
“Should we let him know we plan to kill him? He might go back into hiding if he knows we’re after him,” Ezra says, and he stands a little taller.
King scoffs. “Doubtful. The man fears no one, and if you think he’ll be caught unawares, you’re mistaken. He’s very aware of what we plan to do.”
“Well, he needs to fear us,” Frankie says. “I had no qualms taking out my mother, and I’ll have zero when it’s time to kill him.”
“Might help to egg him on,” Bennett says with a laugh.
Eve chuckles. “You would bring up food, wouldn’t you?”
Jim clears his throat and gets the group back on track. “The Cattle are worth twenty points each, but the three special targets are worth fifty points. You may only tag one of them, however.”
“Who are they?” Cat asks. “You know I can’t kill without a good reason.”
“These three men are the only Carter targets of the event. The rest are our regular Cattle.” Jim glances at me, then looks at each of the Sinners. “These three men don’t realize they have something in common. All three wronged Carter in some way.”
“Then shouldn’t we save them instead of killing them?” Ezra asks. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.”
Heads nod as everyone agrees.
King clears his throat. “It’s not that simple. These men deserve what’s coming to them. They went rogue on a job and slaughtered women and children who weren’t on the list. Their actions were far worse than just killing, however, if you’d like to—”
“Nah, that’s enough,” Cat says. “I get it.”
“When you make a kill, put this on their wrist,” Jim says as Gary starts handing out game tags. “Eve, you’re on your own since Charity is dead and that leaves an uneven number.”
Ice Pick whimpers, and Blayne puts a protective arm around him.
“Why don’t we pair her with Gary?” I ask.
Gary looks hopeful at my suggestion, but then the hope fades. “I don’t want to mess her up. I’m not a killer, and this is a competition.”
Eve throws her arm around the man. “Come on, Gare Bear. I’ll handle the shotgun, and you handle the tracking.”
“I don’t even have an outfit,” he says, looking around at all of us dressed up like the most ineffectual hunting party to ever step foot in the woods.
Jim steps closer to the little man and holds out the black gift bag that’s been sitting at his feet. “I was hopeful you might change your mind. I had these prepared for you.”
When Gary pulls out the paper and reveals hideous camo coveralls, you’d think he’d just been handed the Stanley fucking Cup. His eyes well with tears, and he shakes his head. “You’re too kind to me, Jim.”
“You’re a very good friend to all of us,” Jim says, misty eyed. “It would make me proud if you joined in.”
Agreement resounds, and Gary dons the coveralls with our encouragement. And I can’t lie; it’s doing a little something to me too. This is one weird little family, but that’s the only way I can describe it.
A family. Friends. A sense of belonging.
All things my nomadic life hasn’t afforded.
As the group starts toward the beginning of the woods, I search my mind for a happy memory to cling to, but all I find are the reasons I ran away from my life in the first place. The reasons I wanted to die. The reasons King found me and showed me that I actually wanted to live.
“You okay?” King asks. “Is your stomach being a bother?”
“Stop trying to send me back to the RV.” I step over a large rock and nearly break my ankle. King reaches out to right me, and I snatch my arm away. “And stop being nice. I know what you’re up to.”
There’s some commotion at the front of the group, and we quicken our steps to drink the spilling tea. King is just as nosey as I am, and I don’t care if he says otherwise.
“You can’t take anything with you,” Jim says to Bennett, who clutches that small cardboard box to his chest like a lifeline. “You’ll have to leave your box with me. I’ll have no secret advantages for any of you.”
With a huff, Bennett opens the box and pulls what looks to be a vase from inside. “I’m not leaving this behind. She’s coming on every step of this trip, and that’s final.”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve got a pineapple in there,” Kindra says.
Bennett opens the lid and pulls a baggie from the shadows. It looks to be filled with carpet dust. “Here. Satisfied?”
“Oh my god, he brought his mother’s cremains,” Maverick whispers, but someone really needs to teach that guy how to speak softly, because we all hear him.
“I never brought her anywhere because I never had the money to take her traveling. Now I’m gonna leave a little piece of her all over the United States, and not a single one of you assholes will stop me.”
“I think it’s sweet,” I say, and all heads turn toward me. “Seriously. Let the man take his mom on the trip he never could.”
“Fine,” Jim relents with a groan. “Just be sure she doesn’t wind up in any food, or we’ll all be leaving her somewhere.”
“Bennett is the food fucker, right?” I whisper, and King nods. “Why would his mother end up in our food? Are we eating food he’s already fucked?”
King sighs. “With this lot, so many things end up in our food.”
Jim spreads all of us out and raises a starter pistol. “Now remember! Gun safety is imperative. Know what you’re shooting before you shoot. Pink, red, and yellow are fair game, but orange is off-limits!”
The pistol fires, and we’re off.
Couples dart in every direction. Some take off running, but King and I hang back and study the lay of the land. In fact, we’re the only people to stop and assess.
“The stream is that way,” I say. I point to our left. “I can hear it already.”
“My beauty,” he says with a smirk, and we start in that direction. “I knew I could count on you for the big points. You were always a fair tracker.”
“Learned from the best, and that’s the only compliment you’ll hear from me today, so eat it slowly.”
He laughs, and it sounds like something I want to commit to memory. I wish it didn’t. I wish time had been cruel and that he’d become some wrinkled, aged, and wretched thing. Instead, he’s still as beautiful and enigmatic as ever.
“I’m surprised you’re being so amenable today,” he says. “I figured you’d insist on being Blayne’s partner for this excursion.”
I shrug and step over a massive root. “I felt bad for Ice Pick. Figured I’d throw him a bone. Plus, I rubbed one out this morning so I could focus.”
“That should last you through lunch,” he says. “Then what?”
Before I can answer, he throws out his arm and stops walking. He brings his finger to his lips.
“Do you hear that?” he whispers.
A wisp of red hair falls into my eyes as I shake my head. I brush it away, as if clearer vision will help me hear better, sort of how turning down the radio makes driving feel safer. I listen, straining my ears, but I only hear the distant rush of water.
King closes his eyes to concentrate, but it’s the same look he makes when I’m doing a really good job sucking him off, so my mind goes there because it’s just wired that way.
I remember a time he made that same face while we were in the woods, and nope, I won’t make it to lunch.
The ache is already back between my legs.
“Do you ever think about that time we murdered the couple by that waterfall?” I ask. “It was so romantic.”
I’m shocked when he whispers, “All the time.”
“Really?”
He nods and finally opens his eyes. “Yes, really. Now focus. Listen again and tell me what you hear.”
His hands land on my shoulders, and he turns me so that my back is against his chest. He’s in teaching mode, which would piss me off if he were anyone else. His lessons always have a way of leaving me smiling, though.
He pulls me closer, and I feel his heart thumping against my spine. His warmth. His—
“You really are thinking about that time in the woods, aren’t you?” I say with a grin.
“Close your eyes and listen.”
My eyes close. The stream whispers to me, but so does something else. A faint whimper. It could be mistaken for a bird, but it’s definitely human. I open my eyes and look up.
Fifty feet above us, a woman stands on a wooden platform attached to the tree. It’s small and narrow, almost like a tree stand, but the large red bullseye beside her shows me what we’re meant to do.
“It’s like a dunk tank,” I whisper, “only she’ll fall onto limbs and rocks instead of water. But that’s only fifty feet. She has a chance to survive that.”
King readies the shotgun and holds it toward me. “Survival odds are based on receiving care after the initial injury. I see no ambulance on standby.”
“Good point, but don’t you want to take the kill? You’re usually so greedy when it comes to murder.”
He pushes the shotgun into my hand, and I accept it. If he’s feeling generous, who am I to spoil his good mood? I ready my aim and release the safety.
“I got a kill in recently,” he says as I place my finger over the trigger.
“Do you mean when you fucked Ice Pick’s girl and killed any dream he had of a happy life?” I take a deep breath and let it out. “That was shitty of you, by the way.”
“I didn’t fuck Charity.”
I fire and miss the target entirely. With a fucking shotgun. At fifty feet. The Cattle closes her eyes and lets out a silent scream. Why the bitch keeps silent, I’ll never know. I’d be screaming my head off if I were her. We clearly already see her.
“Bullshit,” I say. I lower the gun and round on him. “You fucked her, and I think you’re a piece of shit for that.”
“That’s just your jealousy speaking.”
“It has nothing to do with me. I just want to know how you could do that to your friend. And to think I almost considered sleeping with you again.”
“My turn.” He takes the gun from my hands, raises it, and nails the target on the first try. He doesn’t even have to steady his aim.
The ledge collapses, and the woman collides with the ground a few feet away from us.
A rib breaks through the camo top and yellow vest, followed by a jet of blood.
Her hands and feet have been secured, but that doesn’t stop her from writhing and groaning and doing the most as the pain and lack of air make her panic.
I snatch the gun from King after he reloads. “Animal abuser, right?”
He nods, and I press the barrel to the woman’s skull, which is sadly still intact. But not for much longer.
“Sayonara, cunt.” With a smile, I turn her brain matter into pudding. “Tag her and let’s keep moving. We’ve got a competition to win.”
I’m done listening to King’s lies. It’s time to do some killing.