Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Josie
We rolled into Arizona late last night after entirely too long on the road. Jim and King pushed everyone through the night, mile after grueling mile. This next event comes with a very strict timeline. Jim could only stop air traffic over the Grand Canyon for so long.
I hold a set of glittering pink racing coveralls against my body. The metallic finish on the helmet matches, as do my racing goggles. There’s just one problem.
“Isn’t Jim concerned about heatstroke?” I run the thick fabric through my fingers. “It’s summertime in Arizona. We’ll die, dude.”
King grunts as he steps into a set of glittering black coveralls.
“This event happens in two parts. The first part is our racer construction. We’ll be in an air-conditioned facility, so not to worry.
The second part happens at the canyon tomorrow.
We’ll change into more agreeable attire before we race our Cattle over the cliff. ”
The event sounds fun, but it’s not enough to get my mind off everything else. Like the fact that I’ve set a date with the girls and can’t back out of telling them my secret now. Or the mystery of which of us ruined Ice Pick’s life.
Then there’s the whole King issue. I’m discovering new breaches to my defenses on a daily fucking basis. If I’m not careful, I’m heading toward a loss of epic proportions. I’ll lose not only the bet, but my sanity as well.
“What’s on your mind?” King brushes my hair out of my face and sets the helmet on my head, and I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. So kind. So caring. “You look miles away. Do you need release before the event?”
I shake my head, wishing it were as simple as needing an orgasm.
“Would it be okay if I sat this first part out?” I say. “I kind of need some time to think.”
He eases the helmet off my head, tosses it to the bed, then raises my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Too much peopling?”
I nod.
“You take all the time you need to recharge. I can’t skip it, I’m afraid. We’re paired with Bennett and Cat, and I’d hate to see what the two of them come up with without supervision.” He grimaces. “That’s if they can pull themselves away from the pantry long enough to stop fucking our lunch.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull the helmet into my lap. “That’ll be good for Bennett. I bet he never got to do stuff like this with his dad.”
“So you’ve heard about their absentee father in detail?”
“I have.”
“And what is your opinion of the illustrious Grantham Carter?”
I shrug. “As far as killers go, he’s above reproach. As far as being a human, though?”
“Go on.”
“I don’t know. I just can’t find anything good to say about someone who runs all over town making women fall in love with him, then knocking them up and cutting bait.
” I shudder. “He destroyed Aven’s family by causing a rift between husband and wife.
He turned Frankie’s mother into a psychotic and obsessive dick rider from hell.
Bennett’s mother is the saddest of all, though.
She just poured her entire soul into her little boy, never having a life for herself. ”
“Bennett was her life. In a non-disgusting way, he was also the love of her life.” He shakes his head. “She struggled, but you wouldn’t have found a happier woman or a more adored little boy.”
“It’s a wonder he turned out how he did,” I say. “With so much love, so many happy memories, you’d think he would have tried to do good.”
King sighs. “Yes, well, breeding proves out, doesn’t it? It doesn’t matter how nice the bitch is. If the sire is off, the pup might be as well.”
“I think Ezra’s mother is the one I know least about.”
He mutters something, but I don’t catch what he says. When I ask him to repeat himself, he looks at his watch and says it isn’t important. Then he brings me a bottle of Perrier from the mini fridge and tells me to change the sheets if my thinking leads to making a mess.
“I’ll just be a few rigs over at Cat and Bennett’s. We’ll be leaving in the next ten minutes, but give a shout if you change your mind.”
He leaves me alone with my thoughts, and the silence closes in.
Keeping to myself all these years has had its benefits.
In quiet moments, I don’t find discomfort.
I find clarity. It’s easier to hear myself think when there aren’t fifty other sounds happening around me.
And King was right on the money when he said I needed to recharge.
I’ve enjoyed being around these people, but that doesn’t mean I’m not also exhausted.
I push the helmet to the floor and flop back on the mattress with my arms above my head. I stare at the roof and try to tackle the most pressing problem: telling the girls about my trauma and subsequent coping mechanisms. That’s supposed to happen tonight.
My stomach twists, and I roll onto my side.
They won’t be mean to me. They won’t poke fun about something as serious as this.
But they will be honest. If I’ve been irrational and held on to something stupid for this long, they’ll let me know.
I need to plan for how I’ll process it when that happens.
“If that happens, Josie,” I whisper to myself. “We are not a fortune teller.”
Because it could go the other way. They could hear my reasoning and then make fun of me. I could be the joke at the next retreat. The squash fucker who’s never been kissed. That silly girl who showed up for one of their trips as if she belonged.
I clench my eyes shut. “Stop it. They aren’t like that.”
The other women have been welcoming and kind. Friendly. I have no reason to believe they’d speak that way about me.
Well . . . they’d probably say the squash fucker part, but it’s kind of true, so I can’t be mad.
Okay, thinking about this isn’t helping anything. It’s making me feel worse.
I know what would make me feel better, though.
It’s been far too long since I tickled my own fancy, and as good as King is at working an orgasm out of me, I’m not too shabby myself.
Maybe it’s time I remind myself that I don’t need a man.
That would tackle the third problem. Then it’s just a matter of finding Ice Pick’s traitor, and I can finally sleep normally again.
Rolling onto my back, I slip my hand into my flowing purple top and run my fingertips over my nipple. The sensitive little bud perks right up, ready to send pleasurable sensations down my spine. I bite my lip and tweak the peak, and my pussy clenches.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “You know just how to touch me.”
Yes, I’m imagining King. No, I still don’t need a man. Just a mental image of one.
My other hand snakes into my sleep shorts. I drag my excitement toward my clit, forming a slippery surface. My fingertips skate over the nub and send more jolts of pleasure through my limbs. I rock my head to the side and imagine sucking King as he touches and teases me.
“Choke me,” I whisper. “Fucking—”
The RV door rips open, and I bolt upright with a shout. My eyes bulge wider when I see that it isn’t King standing inside the RV.
It’s Blayne.
Even though I’m fully clothed, I pull the blanket over my chest as if he’s walked in on me in the nude. I feel naked.
“What the fuck, dude?” I scream.
I expect him to turn away or panic or seem just as shocked as I am that he’s standing in the wrong RV, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t raise his deceptive mask into place, either. He doesn’t smile and put on a show. He’s back to looking like a weasel, and it sets my teeth on edge.
“What do you need?” I manage to get out. My voice shakes, that bitch, but I’m scared. All the others are likely miles away by now. I’m pretty sure I was thinking and rubbing my cunt for more than ten minutes.
But why would King leave me alone with Blayne?
He wouldn’t.
“King!” I yell, sitting up a little straighter.
I’ll be damned if Blayne doesn’t take a step toward me, as if he means to come silence me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t piss a little. I’m about to scream for King again when footsteps pound on the dry Arizona ground outside.
King wheels into the RV, head drenched in sweat and glittering just as much as his coveralls. He doesn’t ask any questions as he notices the intruder standing between us. He barrels forward, grabs the center of Blayne’s flannel shirt, and hauls him several inches into the air.
“Speak quickly,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice a pit of gravel and honey. “You have about three seconds to make sense of this situation before I send you into the Cattle pen to join the races tomorrow.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Blayne squeaks. “Jim sent me to tell everyone to take off those coveralls. We’ve had to postpone the event because Ice Pick collapsed.”
King looks at me, questioning if he speaks the truth, but how the fuck should I know? I was busy playing with myself when he barged in.
But when I think of the way he stepped toward me . . . that look in his eyes.
Unable to answer him, I just look away. I don’t know what to say.
“There’s one way to get to the bottom of this,” King says. He drops Blayne to the floor none too gently, then spins him around and places his hand on the back of his neck. “March. We’ll go talk to Jim.”
I throw on some sandals and run after them.
When we get to Jim’s bus, we see that he was telling the truth.
Ice Pick lies on Jim’s bed with fans pointed at his naked body.
The three-inches thing might not be a lie if he’s a grower instead of a shower.
Poor guy. I’ve been with micro machines who’ve still gotten me where I needed to go, though.
“What’s all this?” Jim asks. He pushes Blayne out of King’s grasp and starts trying to strip his friend. “Why are you still wearing those dangerous coveralls? Take them off! My god, if something happens to my—”
King pushes him away. “What is your blasted issue, old man? Unhand me! I can undress myself, thank you!”
Jim’s lips slam shut, and he looks away. “Apologies. I’m just worried about all of you. I sent Gary and Blayne to tell everyone as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, that’s what caused all this fuss.” King glares at Blayne. “Perhaps you shouldn’t just barge into someone’s residence, hmm? I’m not sure what they do in your part of the world, but where I’m from, we ring the bell and wait, politely, for someone to answer.”
Blayne raises his hands, a sheepish grin planted on his face. It’s fake, though. I can see through it all now. “I’m sorry, and you’re right. I was just terrified something might have happened to you two. Especially after I shot Josie. I wanted to make up for it.”
I study King’s face, and I’m relieved when I see that he isn’t buying it. The tight muscles in my neck finally relax.
“I’m not mad at you for panicking like you did,” Blayne says to me, as if I give a shit if he’s mad at me. “I would have done the same if some woman busted in while I was trying to . . . Well, I don’t want to assume what you were doing, but you looked so flushed, and—”
“That’s quite enough of that,” King mutters.
I turn to Jim before this can go much further. “So, how’s Ice Pick?”
“Rosie says he’ll be just fine, but we need to hydrate him and keep him cool until tomorrow. That means we’ll have to push the first part of the event until tomorrow morning.”
More footsteps pound outside, and several people enter Jim’s bedroom. It’s a regular can of sardines now as Eve, Cat, and Ezra pile in.
“How is he?” Cat whispers, tears in her eyes. “Please tell me they don’t suspect brain damage. He has so few of those cells knocking around in there already.”
Eve side-eyes her. “Does it look like they have an MRI scanner on this bus, honey? Are you sure you’re doing well in nursing school?”
“I’m sorry,” Cat squeaks. “My critical thinking shuts off under pressure.”
“Are you sure you’ll do well as a nurse,” King whispers, and thank goodness the poor girl doesn’t hear him. I give him a gentle elbow in the ribs.
Jim repeats what he explained to us, assuring the girls and Ezra that their friend will be just fine once he wakes up from his rest.
“Kindra, Aven, and Quinn will be glad of that,” Ezra says. “They were back in our RV, trying to cool off. I didn’t want them to make the trek in this heat.”
Now that we all know Ice Pick is fine, we turn to get out of these cramped quarters. I’m more than eager to get away from Blayne, too. If King hadn’t been around to save me, something terrible would have happened; I would have killed Blayne, and he would have missed the entire joyful event.
King sticks close behind me. “Wait up,” he says. “Maybe I can help you with that thing you definitely weren’t doing when Blayne came in.”
My cheeks blaze hot as I step out of Jim’s bus, and it’s not from the Arizona heat. I think I might take him up on that offer, though.