Sinners Retreat (The Slaycation #1)

Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Kindra

A s I head back to my villa, I’m walking on air. It’s incredibly stupid to throw caution to the wind, but I’ve tossed all concern into a hurricane and wished it well. The walls are down, and it’s official.

I’m falling in love with Ezra Carter.

And what isn’t to love? He’s handsome, intelligent, and witty. He looks at me the way every woman deserves to be looked at, and I feel like I’m enough when I’m with him. Most of all, he makes me happy.

Now I’m about to get dolled up for a fancy dinner date with Mr. Perfect. My current self kicks my past self for bringing such a limited selection of formal wear, but how was I to know I’d meet the love of my life on this trip? When we first set out, I was so determined to keep my head down and my heart protected. I treated everyone so cruelly, especially Cat.

Cat!

I need to check in with her and make sure Bennett didn’t kill her with an accidental overdose. I skirt past my villa and make a beeline for Cat’s place. It’s late afternoon, so I can only hope she’s had enough time to sleep off the drugs. She loves dressing up, so she’ll want to attend the dinner.

Pale orange curtains flap in the window, but I see no lights inside Cat’s villa. At least Bennett had the wherewithal to ensure she had a breeze. I rap on the door, then peer through the window when she doesn’t answer. I don’t see her in the living room. Not wanting to wake her if she’s still sleeping, I ease open the door.

A blanket lies across the couch, as if someone had been beneath it only moments ago. The bedroom door stands open, giving me a clear view of the empty bed.

Where the hell is Cat?

Then I hear a sound, like metal scraping against glassware. I freeze and close my eyes, listening as the clinking commences again. It sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom.

I step toward the door, but there’s no little rectangle of light beneath it. The lights are off in there. Figuring I imagined things, I take a step back, but the sound freezes me in place again.

Scrape . . . scrape.

Placing my fingertips against the door, I ease it open. “Cat?” I whisper.

“In here,” she says from the shadows. “It’s the only place where the light doesn’t reach.”

“Is there a reason why we’re skulking outside of the Pridelands, Mufasa?”

That earns a small chuckle, followed by the most pitiful groan I’ve ever heard. “Please don’t make me laugh. My head is killing me. I think Bennett drugged me.”

“Oh, I know he did. He told us so.” I feel around in the dark until I find the stack of washrags stacked beside the sink. I run one under the cold tap and move toward her voice. “Are you in the bathtub?”

“Yeah. The cold porcelain feels good.” She grunts, followed by some squeaking sounds, and then she’s beside me. “Let’s go into the living room.”

She follows me out of the bathroom, and as the sunlight finds her face, I’m shocked by how pretty she is when she’s at her worst. At my worst, I look like a bridge troll who played chicken on the I-90. Meanwhile, she looks like she’s ready to pose for a two-page spread in Cosmo about the benefits of a natural glow.

I drape the cool cloth over her neck. In her hand, she holds a glass bowl and a metal spoon. That explains the sound I kept hearing.

“Were you feeling a little peckish in the dark?” I ask.

She scoops something from the bowl and shovels it into her mouth. “Yeah, I guess I was hungry after missing lunch. Thanks for making this for me.”

My eyebrows pull together. “I’ve been with Ezra all day. I didn’t make that.”

“Hmm?” She chews what’s in her mouth and swallows. “Really? Then who did?”

I peer into the bowl and discover a fresh fruit salad, complete with miniature orange slices, shreds of strawberry, and a heaping helping of pineapple.

Cat and I make the connection at the same time, and I catch the bowl as she drops it and races for the sink.

“No, no, no!” she screams. “Not the pineapple, Kindra. Not the fucking pineapple!”

“Surely it’s not the same one. I mean, you saw the way he was fucking that thing. I don’t think there would have been this many solid pieces left.”

She spits into the sink, then dips her mouth beneath the running faucet. My emotions vacillate between horror and humor as I watch her frantic motions, and I come to one conclusion. This is horrifyingly humorous.

“He doesn’t know how to do something nice,” she says as she gulps air before going back under the faucet for another rinse. “He fed me his fucking lover, Kindra!”

I hold the bowl to my nose and dare to take a sniff. It just smells sweet, like fruit. “I think you’re safe. I don’t detect any undertones of salt or ball sweat.”

“The pineapple probably hides it.” She snatches the washcloth from her neck and dabs it on her forehead. “I don’t want any part of that man inside me in any way. Even the thought of ingesting a single skin cell from his body makes me sick.”

I dump the remaining fruit—of which there is sadly little—into the wicker trash can, then set the bowl on the counter. Cat wipes her mouth on the back of her arm and retreats to the couch to pout. She pulls the blanket over her shoulders so that only her head sticks out.

Sitting beside her, I place my hand on what I hope is her knee. “I’m sorry I can’t relate. I’m on the other end of the emotional spectrum. Instead of hating Ezra, I’m falling in love with him.”

I brace myself for a squeal of joy and a hug that doesn’t come. Maybe she’s still in shock after eating Bennett’s fruit salad. I turn to look at her, but I can’t read her face. She’s lost in thought, with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and a faraway look in her eyes.

“Did you hear me?” I ask.

Cat sighs and lets the blanket drop. “I heard you, but did you ever think that maybe things are moving a little fast with Ezra? I mean, what do you even know about him? You two have been spending a lot of time together, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Though her voice is gentle and her questions are valid, what she says sinks into a sore spot. Isn’t she supposed to be happy for me? Why this sudden change of demeanor?

Is she jealous?

It’s the only thing that makes sense. She was obsessed with me before the trip, and now that we’re friends, she doesn’t want to share my time. Why else would she bring up how much time I’ve been spending with Ezra?

“I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought you wanted me to hook up with him. What changed?”

She gets that faraway look again, like she’s doing battle inside her head, and her fingers start tapping beneath the blanket.

“Just spit it out, Cat.”

“When Bennett thought I was sleeping, he said some things that worried me. Things about Ezra.” She picks at the corner of the blanket. “I just think you should be careful, that’s all.”

“Bennett? The same Bennett who would snatch an ice cream from a child and stomp it into the concrete if he thought it would wipe the smile off the child’s face? That Bennett?” I scoff and shake my head. “I don’t trust anything that comes out of his mouth. He probably knew you were half-awake and just wanted to plant a seed of contention.”

“I don’t think so, Kindra. He?—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” I get to my feet and pace around the coffee table. I’m too angry to stay seated. “Bennett is a snake, and I won’t let his lies get to me. I trust Ezra. He’s a good guy, and he’s good for me.”

“Bennett said something about a secret. I can’t remember exactly what, but it’s something about his brother’s identity. Please, just be careful.”

I stop pacing. “His identity? He’s a private dick and a serial killer. He has no romantic attachments, no children, and no pets. He owns his home and drives a Mini Cooper because it reminds him of the UK.” I count the points on my fingers, then look at her. “What am I missing?”

Her tiny shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know, but you’re missing something. A little distance may not be a bad thing. You and I could get ready for dinner together, and we can hang out for the evening without the guys.”

“You and Bennett are more alike than you realize.” I scoff and fold my arms over my chest. “He’s jealous of Ezra, and you’re jealous of me. Now you’re both working to rip us apart.”

Cat looks like I just slapped her in the face. I expect her to start crying, but she steels herself and says, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

As the door clicks shut behind her, it feels like we’ve closed the door on our friendship.