Page 80 of Sinners Retreat

Typically, I love to see her smile, but now her smile is my death sentence. Tonight, before anyone else has the chance, I need to tell her the truth. It won’t be easy, but it’s my last shot at redemption.

Maverick wouldn’t tell her out of malice. He’s not like Bennett. But Maverick is young, and he isn’t as tight-lipped as he should be. In his youthful exuberance, he’s liable to slip up and call me AA, even if I explain why he shouldn’t.

For now, I need to make the most of the time I have left. If I can make these final hours memorable, maybe it will be enough to help her forget what I’ve done.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kindra

After a few rounds of bowling in this heat, I’m more than ready to cool off, so we head toward the dock to participate in a water activity. After losing out on the first few days of the retreat, I’m eager to give the experience a real effort for what time I have left.

Ezra seems to have shaken off the funk he was in after lunch. I make a mental note to avoid the topics of sports and politics since they seem to sour his mood.

We board the fishing boat and travel below deck to change into wetsuits and scuba gear. Ice Pick, Maudlin Rose, and Grim are already dressed and waiting in the wheelhouse.

Before pulling out the wetsuits, Ezra gives me a crash course on scuba diving. I know more about the hobby than when I first boarded the boat, but I still don’t think I know enough to participate. Then Ezra hands a neoprene suit to me, and I’m more afraid of the attire than the actual activity.

“How the hell do I squeeze into this?” I ask as I hold up the wetsuit. “Cat’s smaller than me, and she wouldn’t even fit in this thing. It looks like it was designed for a stick person.”

Ezra holds up his suit. “They’re meant to fit snug, pet. It creates an insulating barrier so that you don’t freeze. It’s also advised that you piss in the suit for warmth.”

“Piss insulation. Got it.”

He chuckles and helps me into my suit, and it’s not that bad. No worse than wearing a waist trainer, which I tried in my late teens before I embraced my fuller figure.

Looking like demonic, emaciated Teletubbies, Ezra and I make our way up the stairs and onto the upper deck. Ezra shields his eyes from the sun and looks toward the wheelhouse. Grim gives us the thumbs up, and we motion back that we’re ready to haul anchor and kill some Cattle.

Ice Pick comes down, and he and Ezra fool with the anchor while Maudlin Rose and I take a seat and watch. I steal glances at the silent woman beside me. Right now, covered head to toe in neoprene, she could pass as anyone’s grandmother. You’d never know she’s a highly sought-after serial killer who also enjoys sunbathing her butthole.

“It’s very warm today,” I say.

She smiles and nods.

“I hope the water cools us off.”

More smiling and nodding from Rose.

“What did you think of?—”

She rises from her seat and walks away, heading toward the wheelhouse. Apparently, Ice Pick isn’t the only one who can’t read a room, as I’ve annoyed the poor woman to the point that she had to get away.

Ezra returns to my side, and I’m glad for his company after that awkward interaction.

“Why doesn’t she speak?” I ask him.

“Maudlin Rose?”

I nod.

“Have you never noticed the scar on her neck?”

“No. Most times, she’s been nude, so I didn’t want to look too closely.”

A deep laugh bubbles out of his chest and melts the crotch of my wetsuit. God, does he do anything that isn’t sexy?

“She can’t speak, love,” he says. “Many of us have some sort of trauma that catapults us into this line of work. She’s no different, though she isn’t a discerning killer like you or me. She targets men, and having a penis is the only requirement.”

“So what set her on her path?”

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