Three to Fall (Saint View Slayers vs. Sinners #3)

20. X

20

X

I sniggered at Grayson’s van turning off and his instructions not to follow them. Scythe took the words right out of my mouth when he got on the walkie-talkies and gave them shit about it.

Whip shook his head and muttered, “Yeah, because when I’m about to walk into a potentially deadly situation, sex is the first thing on my mind. What’s wrong with Gray? Her pussy made of gold or what?”

I scoffed. “Sex is the first thing on every man’s mind, at every minute of the day, whether we’re walking carefree along the beach or trying to infiltrate some fucking cult, whose members are probably waiting to drown us in holy water.” I glanced at the older man, frown pinching between my eyebrows. “You don’t think they’ll try that, do you? I can’t swim very well, and I didn’t pack my floaties.”

I was pretty sure Whip rolled his eyes, but it was hard to tell because he was steadfastly staring out the window, making sure we didn’t crash the van.

He was such a grump. Where was the joy? The excitement about all the killing we were about to do? Yeah, yeah, we’d promised we wouldn’t. Innocent people and all that. Blah, blah, blah. But surely one of the cult fuckers was going to step out of line and give me a reason to get my hands dirty.

At least I hoped so, otherwise I could have just stayed home and watched Jerry Springer reruns. Man, what a banger that show was. You are not the father? Classic TV gold.

Trigger reached his arms above his head and tried to release some of the muscle tension sitting in this fucking van for almost a whole day had created. “Gray’s just trying to release some pressure. Leave him alone. Fuck, if one of you had a wet, willing pussy for me to suck right now, I would.”

“I did not need that mental image, thank you.” Whip checked his mirrors and merged into the next lane to keep up with Scythe in the Jeep and the guys on their bikes.

I shook my head. “He’s so pussy-whipped. Have you seen the look on his face every time she’s around?”

Trig grimaced. “I’ve never seen anyone smile so much. Like, do you think his mouth is sore?”

“Has to be.” I glanced at Whip. “You ever smiled in your entire life?”

“Not since you came into it.”

I sniggered. “Oh, Whip. How I enjoy your dry, dry sense of humor.”

Torch flicked the wheel on his lighter a few times, absentmindedly creating the tiny flickering sparks he was so fond of. “Was Gray like this with his wife? I don’t remember him being this obsessed with her.”

Trig shook his head. “He was nothing like this with Annette. They were both so fucking selfish, so wrapped up in their own shit. They were just arm candy for each other and a warm body to sleep next to at night so they didn’t feel lonely.”

“But now he’s found his true love.” I bounced on my seat, needing to expel some energy because I’d been sitting still for hours. “How sweet.” So sweet I gagged a little for effect, then grinned. “You ever been in love, Whip?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

I grinned. “Well, that’s a solid yes. What about you, Trigger?”

He twisted to stare out the window.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Seriously? Not even going to give me a yes or no head shake?”

Ace twisted a thin cord around his fingers, his long legs cramped in the small space of the back seat. “You know they aren’t going to tell you shit about their personal lives. Would you trust any of us with the details about someone you loved? Hell, look what Trig did to his own sister-in-law? Chopped her up and fed her to the pigs.”

Trigger scoffed with a laugh. “That’s creative. But why say it like it’s a bad thing? If I had fed her to pigs, she would have deserved it. It would have been poetic justice since she hacked shit on me that time I tried to go vegetarian,” he grumbled beneath his breath. “Nothing wrong with wanting to save some fucking animals.”

“Probably shouldn’t tell him about that rooster in Gray’s freezer then, huh, Ace?”

Ace shot me a dirty look. “I’m done talking to you for the rest of the trip. It was one small accidental chicken shooting, and you’re never going to let me live it down.”

“You yelled, ‘Hasta La Vista, baby!’ before you pulled the trigger.”

“It was me or the rooster, X! The town wasn’t big enough for both of us!” Ace crossed his arms grumpily and twisted to stare out the window.

Torch took over where Ace had left off. “I think the point that we’re maybe trying to make is we keep our personal lives personal. So why are you even asking about Whip’s family?”

They were all so boring. “Because what else are we going to talk about?”

Whip shifted gears. “The weather. The news. Why you told Torch to get that haircut…”

Torch self-consciously ran his fingers through the mullet I’d talked him into getting last week.

I made a face at them. “It’s not my fault Torch’s ears stick out like Dumbo. Who knew? They were always covered when his hair was longer.”

Torch scowled in my direction. “And now I’m not talking to you either. God, you’re an asshole.”

I shrugged and punched Whip in the arm. “Whip still loves me.”

“Whip is going to drive this van off the nearest bridge if you don’t learn to read the room and shut up when you’re driving everyone mad.”

I made a face at him and rolled my eyes. “Whip needs to stop talking about himself in the third person ’cause it’s as weird and creepy as that hairy mole on his back…”

The dirty look he shot my way was just straight-up rude.

So was the way none of them answered the next few questions I fired at them.

I sighed, and picked up the radio, pressing the button on the side so I could talk to the Jeep ahead of us. “Hey, Scythe?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know that ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall song?”

Without taking his eyes off the road, Whip grabbed his gun and pointed it in my direction. “I swear, X, I will pull the trigger and enjoy every moment of your brains splattering against the window behind you.”

I twisted so I was facing him front on. And called his bluff with my fingers pressed against the walkie-talkie button. “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer…”

Scythe joined in, and we sang together. “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.”

Whip smushed his lips together, his grumpy old man scowl etched deep into his forehead. “I hope Gray has more room in his freezer for dead bodies.”

I sniggered. “You love me, Whip. You aren’t going to shoot me.”

“No, but if you keep singing like that, I might just shoot myself.”