Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
King
We’re gathered around the outdoor tables again. Chef prepared his feetza for us, and it’s just as disgusting as it sounds—pizza with toes for toppings. He swears the softened bones provide a satisfying crunch. I’m not inclined to see if he’s correct.
Josie sits beside me. Aven and Bennett sit across from us. They’ve just finished explaining everything to her.
As it turned out, Blayne wasn’t the only one who overheard some of my conversations with Jim.
Bennett and Aven have known my identity for much of the journey.
They told no one but each other, making a pact to torture the fuck out of me until the last day—my well-deserved penance.
They had no way of knowing the wrench they were throwing into our machine.
Everyone also suspected Blayne was the one who slept with Charity. They’re shocked to learn the extent of the cowboy’s ruse, however. The one question we still don’t have an answer for is why Blayne believes he’s a Carter sibling. He can’t be. There were only four mothers.
Speaking of him, he’s currently tied up at the end of the table until we figure out what to do with him.
His death is coming, and swiftly. We just haven’t decided which vehicle will cart him straight to hell.
Even if he’s my son by some cruel twist of fate, I won’t allow him to draw breath much longer.
Not after what he did to Josie and Ice Pick.
Jim stands from the table and asks for everyone’s attention. “As everyone heard, Blayne made a pretty serious accusation today. He claims that he is King’s—Grantham Carter’s—son. I’m here to tell you that isn’t the case. Because I’m King’s brother, and Blayne is my son.”
Gasps ring out, and Josie’s hand finds mine beneath the table. Even I’m taken aback by this revelation.
He looks at me. “We needed a control for the experiment. I didn’t tell you because it didn’t really involve you. I’m sorry. I just wanted a correct experiment with useable data. I gave the mother your name, but I used my semen.”
“Uncle Jim,” Frankie says. “I’ll need time to get used to that.”
“What about Jeff?” I ask.
“He was a hired actor.” Jim shrugs. “He was weirded out after the first retreat, and I eventually had to kill him to keep his mouth shut when he asked for more money.”
“And your wife?” Gary asks. “I’ve met her.”
“Another actor,” Jim says. “In fact, I’ve been method-acting all these years. I’m not a straight man with a wife and a son. This will probably come as a huge shock to everyone, but I’m gay.”
No one gasps this time, but Eve looks sad.
“You’ve closeted yourself all this time, just to carry out some experiment?” she says. “I’m confused.”
“No, not closeted. Method-acting.” Jim rolls his eyes.
“Some of us are just really good at committing to the bit. The simulator said the best chance of bringing everyone together was if the children had a straight uncle with a wife and a kid, so that’s the part I played.
Everything else was the real me, though.
Including the bit about lying to you, King.
I’m sorry. I should have told you about Blayne. ”
He looks around the table.
“I shouldn’t have lied to any of you. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at your idiot uncle.”
Quinn brushes a tear from her cheek. “We aren’t mad at you, Jim. Everyone has some wounds to heal, but we want to heal them together.”
“Blayne is the only one who needs to fucking pay,” Frankie says. “He’s the one who tried to kill Ice Pick and Josie. You and King might have fucked up along the way, but you never tried to off any of us.”
Hearing his name and the truth of his lineage sends the man of the hour into a writhing fit. He screams something behind his gag and rocks his chair until it falls over. Josie rises from her seat and rights him.
“Good golly, boy. How’d you get in this pickle?” she says before striking him across the face with the back of her hand. The ring leaves a gouge in his cheek. She looks at Jim. “Sorry for hitting your kid, but he’s a dick.”
Jim sighs and shakes his head. “No need to apologize. I feel no attachment to the young man. His mother drove drunk and killed an entire family in that crash she had, so don’t feel too horrible about his sob story, either.”
“Did you know his identity when you agreed he could join us?” I ask.
“I was aware. I had hoped . . .” Jim shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what I hoped. I wasn’t aware of how much he knew or how much anger he’d stored inside. So much could have been avoided if I’d just told you the full plan.”
“You don’t bloody say,” I grumble.
Jim motions toward Blayne. “As I said, I have no attachments. In all honesty, it would give me great pleasure to watch his demise. So please, carry out his murder with my blessing, but make it quick. We have a wedding in the morning.”
Ezra and Bennett hoist Blayne to his feet and drag him closer to me. Aven tosses his axe into the air, then catches it and holds it toward me.
“She feels right good in your hands if you want to give her a swing, Da.” He smiles and pushes it toward me.
I shake my head. This isn’t my kill to take. I nod toward Josie. “Hand it to her.”
Aven pushes the handle into her hand, and she accepts with a gleam in her eye. She turns to me.
“Are you sure?”
I lean closer to her ear. “Watching you tear him apart is the perfect foreplay, my beauty. Make it bloody, and I’ll lick you clean when we get inside.”
“Gross,” Bennett says.
Josie steps closer to Blayne, and when she grips his hair, I know exactly what she’s about to do. A smile slides onto my face as my boys flank me on all sides. Frankie joins us as well, placing her hand on Bennett’s shoulder and peering over her brother’s frame.
“Looks like you showed up at a family reunion uninvited,” Josie says into his face. “That’s just bad form, dude. Time to teach you a lesson, and I’m starting with this awful hair.”
She wrenches back on his scalp, then slides that sharpened blade against his hairline. His curls come away like a rug, skin included. Bluish-white bone shines on top of his scalped head. His eyes roll back, and he nearly passes out from the intense pain.
My dick throbs.
“Cut off his dick!” Eve yells, and Kindra claps her hands in support of this idea.
With a grin, Josie yanks down his pants. I’ll be damned if she touches another man’s cock, however, even if it’s just to cut it off. I hurry over and grip the appendage before she can grace it with her perfect fingers.
“Oh, he’s possessive,” Cat says. “Now I know where Bennett gets it from.”
“And Aven,” Quinn says with a giggle.
I grumble under my breath and try to ignore the hens. I’m more focused on the cock and not losing any fingers. But I have nothing to worry about, as Josie’s aim is straight and true. She brings down the axe, and his flaccid penis pops right off.
“Put it in his butt!” Gary yells.
“Interesting idea,” Josie says, “but that would take too much time, and he’s already bleeding out. I say we stuff it down his throat.”
“You’ll have to undo that gag,” I say.
“No I won’t.”
Blayne’s eyes go wide as Josie readies the axe like a bat and takes a swing.
His head doesn’t come all the way off, but close enough.
It hangs by his shoulder, attached to a shred of stubborn skin and a few very tough sinews.
Josie then stuffs the floppy cock into the neck stump and takes a step back.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” she asks, and we all laugh.