Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Josie
We pulled up to King’s lake house a few hours ago, which sits thirty miles from Lake Tahoe, tucked in some thick woods.
The house isn’t as grand as the place where we started our journey.
It’s a humble home, with four bedrooms instead of twenty and the cutest wraparound porch you ever did see.
The one thing it has in common is the massive lake out front.
King described it as a little fishpond. Are we fishing for fucking Nessie?
Jim originally planned for us to detour over to Yosemite, but the threat of foul weather near our final destination pushed up the timeline.
We had to cut out the sight-seeing excursion in favor of hoofing it north as quickly as we could.
Kindra and Ezra want to be married at the lake tomorrow. We just have to beat that storm.
I don’t want to think about what happens the next day.
After getting ambushed in the woods, I hurried back to the RV.
King was there, waiting for me and worrying where I’d been.
I told him I went for a walk. It wasn’t a lie.
He hasn’t yet brought up revealing Blayne’s dirty secret, but when he does, I’ll have to convince him to keep it quiet, and not because I give a fuck about Blayne.
I just don’t want him to ruin whatever chances King has to convince his kids to let him live.
King’s arm is wrapped around my shoulder as we rock on a swing. The sun sets over a mountain. If a fucking deer walked out right now, this could be a Hallmark moment.
Minus the two naked elderly people wading into the water.
“They really don’t like wearing clothes, do they?” I say.
King sighs. “Oh, to be so free.”
“You will be soon. Tomorrow, you’ll attend your son’s wedding, and in two days, you’ll be reunited with all of your children.”
“Yes, and in two days, two of them will murder me. What a lovely family reunion that will be.”
“Don’t say that. You still have time.”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t,” Jim says. He steps onto the porch, and the aged boards creak underfoot. “The children have voted, and they’d like to move the final day up. Bennett and Aven are tired of waiting, and we can’t host the wedding tomorrow.”
“Tell them no,” King says, sitting forward. “And what’s this about the wedding?”
“The storm has advanced faster than anyone anticipated. It’ll be on us by tomorrow afternoon.
Bennett suggested we swap the days around so that they can have a sunny wedding, and even though Kindra and Ezra both fought hard for their wedding to be when they want it—when you’re guaranteed to be in attendance—they were outvoted. ”
“Blast and bother,” King mutters. “Can’t we tell them Carter can’t be located until the final day?”
Jim shakes his head. “We’ve given them the impression that he could materialize whenever you and I make that happen. We thought we had everything in hand.”
I tip my head back and let out a groan. “They probably think they’re helping. They want them to have a nice wedding.”
“And I want to be there for it,” King says.
“You still can.” Jim takes a deep breath. “I meant what I said. I’ll tell them it was all my fault, that I did it without your knowledge. You have too much to live for, King. What do I have? Money? My backfiring experiments?”
“That blasted bird, for one,” King grumbles. “You aren’t leaving me to care for him, always masturbating on everything.”
“He has natural urges,” Jim whines.
“You have your nieces and nephews to live for,” I add. “I’d kind of miss you, too, Jim.”
We all look out at the sunset and release a collective sigh. What a mess.
But maybe it’s less of a mess than they realize.
“Was Blayne part of the vote?” I ask.
King and Jim look at me.
“No,” Jim says with a shake of his head. “He and Ice Pick were helping Chef get preparations together for something he referred to as ‘feetza.’ I didn’t ask questions.”
“Let’s keep it from them,” I say.
“Why?” King asks. “I don’t want him around to swoop you up once I’m dead. I want him out of here before tomorrow.”
“No, I see what she’s saying,” Jim says.
“You do?” I clear my throat. “I mean, yes, exactly.” I motion to Jim. “He gets it.”
Jim nods and rubs his chin. “Yes. If things start to go south, we can use Blayne as a distraction. Put the children’s bloodlust toward something more productive. And when they’ve killed him and sated their rage, we can all sit down and have a civil discussion.”
Okay, not where I was going with it, but also not the worst cover. I’ll fucking take it. “Yep, that’s what I was thinking.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll let them know to keep the changes a secret for now.”
“Hang on,” I say. “We should do something for the final night. One last opportunity to really convince Aven and Bennett that killing you isn’t the only way to get closure.”
“One last hurrah before I’m dead and gone.” King nods. “I’m in.”
“Yeah, that’s the spirit,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Jim claps his hands. “This is the tipping point! I can feel it. I’ll start planning, and I’ll see the two of you this evening.”
Chef Maurice looks like a petulant child as he eyes the tables of catered food with a scowl. He lifts a beautifully roasted chicken breast and raises his mustached lip. “Doesn’t even look like they seasoned it.”
“There wasn’t time for you to prepare anything,” Jim say with a flail of his hands. “We can try your feetza another day. Go and enjoy yourself for once. You aren’t just here to cook us meals.”
“That’s literally all I do,” he grumbles as he wanders away.
“Catered food, Jim?” King’s eyebrow rises. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese . . . you never eat any of this stuff. What is all this?”
Jim glances around, then steps closer to us. “A family reunion,” he whispers. “What better way to bring them closer than by surrounding them with memories of family and kinship?”
“You mean . . . all the things they never had because of the experiment you guys came up with?” I grimace. “Yikes.”
“Oh. I didn’t consider that.” Jim frowns.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” King says.
But it’s not fine. As we line up and pile food onto plates and settle around large outdoor tables, no one discusses the weather.
No one speaks of the upcoming marriage or how the cannoli filling is to die for.
They don’t even talk murder. All most of them can talk about is finally meeting Daddy Carter and how he messed up their lives. They even throw his fate to a vote.
The consensus splits down the middle, with half the group saying Carter should die, and the other half saying he should be spared.
The man himself is forced to hear all of it.
My eyes jump to King each time Bennett and Aven discuss how he should be slain. He hides his pain well, but the Hawaiian pineapple shirt he borrowed from Bennett isn’t fooling me. I see the little jump to his jaw muscle. The way he stops making meaningful eye contact.
“Maybe I’ll use that evisceration technique you taught me, King.” Bennett grabs his steak knife and swipes it through the air.
King smirks and shakes his head. “Remember to keep your wrist level. You’ll make a steadier cut.”
This is torture, and I don’t know how much more I can listen to. Hearing him give his son tips on how to kill him is a bit much, even for me. I need to get some air, but I don’t want to pull King away from his chance to connect, even if it feels pretty hopeless.
I slide out of my seat and try to slink away without being noticed, but Jim’s eagle eyes spot me.
“Don’t run off,” he says. “I’ve planned a fun little surprise for us. Gary and Chef are down by the water setting it up now.”
“I just wanted to stretch my legs a bit. Maybe I’ll see if they need some help,” I say.
King goes to stand, but I place my hand on his shoulder and lean down until my lips rest beside his ear.
“You’ve already made me love you,” I whisper. “Now make them love you too.”
He pats my hand and sets his jaw. He knows I’m right, even if this is torture for him too.
I start toward the water. Moonlight guides my way.
The California wilderness boasts an eerie sort of quiet that you won’t find out east. In this part of the west, at least. The bugs don’t seem as noisy, and even the water sounds more like silk than glass.
It bumps against the rocky shoreline every time a breeze nudges it.
Chef Maurice and Gary don’t look like they need much help.
They’re positioning nude Cattle by the water, five in total.
Each Cattle is bent over a large stone, with their ass in the air.
Chef is currently working a large cardboard tube into a gaping asshole as Gary covers his mouth and looks mortified.
I walk past them. I go until I can no longer make out the faces sitting around the table. When I’m sure no one is watching, I slip into the woods.
I don’t know what my plan is or what the fuck I think I’m doing, but I just couldn’t sit there anymore, listening to them kill him with their words.
When I was a little girl and the world got too big and too scary, I’d walk into the woods and pretend I could communicate with the animals.
I’d tell my raccoon army to prepare to break me out of there.
I’d ready the squirrels to strike at sunrise.
My hands took up stick swords, and I prepared to hurt my parents in the ways I watched them hurt animals.
And I can only hope Bennett and Aven do the same thing I did after that, which was go home, have supper with my shitty parents, and go to bed. Because they can’t kill King. They just . . . can’t.
Deep in the shadows, I sit on a downed tree and allow myself a deep breath.
Tucked away from prying eyes, I let a few tears fall.
It’s so unfair that I finally convinced him I was worth keeping around, but now he’s going somewhere I can’t follow.
When he leaves me this time, there will be no more chances.
The five years I pined for him will be laughable in comparison to what I’ll soon endure.