Page 3 of The Sinner: James

I shush her, glancing around, embarrassed, hoping no one has heard her.

Luckily, it's only us.

Grinning from ear to ear, she hops onto her bicycle.

“Where’s my ice cream?” I ask, not at all excited like her.

“We’ll get it when we return,” she says, suffocated with impatience. “Let’s go.”

“How do you know it’s them?” I ask as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

She shoves her phone into my face.

“I know someone who knows someone who’s spotted them driving this way. We can catch them at the crossroads if we hurry.”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“I want to know if they’re real.”

“They must be real if someone just saw them.”

Her eyebrows wiggle into a frown.

“Stop being a smartass. I want to see what they look like.”

I shrug, set to tease her a little more.

“Big fucking deal. Who cares what they look like?”

“Come on, Rain. Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I’m not,” I say, sliding my phone into my pocket. “I just don’t understand.”

Impatiently, she gestures at me again.

“Regardless. Start pedaling. We’re losing them if we’re not there on time.”

“Okay… All right,” I mumble, my heart still set on that ice cream.

Fifteen minutes later, we stop next to a weed-covered run-down brick fence outlining an abandoned property outside town.

Thick trees and blossoming shrubs pull a dense shadow over the grass when we lay the bicycles on the ground and perch ourselves on a wooden bench.

Her eyes glint with effervescence and anticipation.

“I told you they are real. You didn’t want to believe me,” she says.

“They may be real, but the legend is some bullshit made up by the spinsters in this town.”

Her lips curve into a soft grin.

“You and I are virgins, but not everybody in this town is. And those women are not spinsters. Trust me. They’re quite the opposite.”

“Whatever,” I murmur. “I don’t believe their stories. These women have too much time on their hands and have nothing better to do than spin a yarn.”

“Yarn or no yarn, the men are real,” she says, enthralled.

“Whatever…” I mumble again, waving her off, drawing wicked pleasure from teasing her, although it doesn't affect her that much.

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