Page 37 of Hell In A Handbasket
“Oh, shut up.” I push to my feet and smooth my shorts down with nervous, trembling hands. I come around the back of my chair and move to Ellie’s. She was my first mission. My most important. She’s a grown woman now, married and happy. But she’ll forever be my baby sister. So I bend and set a kiss on the top of her head, then I snatch Jess’ glass of wine and continue around our circle and meander toward Minka.
Cato clocks me first. Then Archer.
Micah and Troy.
Spence.
Everyone except Minka.
But she must feel the tension in the air, or perhaps a change in the speed of Archer’s pulse. Because she peeks over her shoulder, glowering just as soon as our eyes meet.
“I walked away so I wouldn’t hit you.” She turns and folds her arms, but she leans on Archer much the same way I’ve come to lean on my husband over the years. She casts her eyes to the bus, to Jay, who watches us with one brow raised and a pair of tongs at the ready.
Will he save me?
Doesn’t look like it.
“I’m putting in my time,” she grumbles, bringing her focus back to me, her lips curling into an unfriendly sneer. “I’m staying away, so you can still do you. Hang out with your friends. Have your dinner and,” she wiggles her fingers, gesturing to the circle of chairs, “non-bonfire party. I’m going to bed just as soon as we’ve eaten, then tomorrow, you’re driving us back to the airport, and we don’t have to interact anymore.”
“So you’d cut me off, just like that?” I extend my hand, offering the wine. But she doesn’t take it. She doesn’t even consider it. “All this history, and you’re done with me?”
“You’re taking it personally.” She firms her lips into flat lines. “You called me out here under the guise of work. My professional expertise is no longer required. We’re done.”
“So stay for the weekend anyway. We’ve all cleared our schedules. No one has to rush back to civilization.”
“Felix does.” She stares straight through my fucking soul. Detached. Hard. Colder than the dead bodies she dissects five days a week. “His wife is in the eleventh hour of pregnancy and needs close monitoring by her specialist team. Fletch needs to go home to his daughter. Archer and I… we…” She falters, growing frustrated with every extra second it takes to find herreason. “We have to feed the cat.”
“We could stay a day or two.” Cato tosses his beloved sister-in-law to the wolves. “Steve’s taking care of the cat, and Eliza needs a plus one for the wedding tomorrow.”
“We’renotgoing to that wedding! We don’t even know them. We sure as hell didn’t bring outfits for a formal event. And did you miss the bit about Christabelle?”
“I wish people would stop speaking for me.” Christabelle waddles across the dirt, her belly jutted forward. “My pregnancy is fine. My cervix isnotopen. My baby is large, which is entirely annoying and a little bit terrifying, considering it has to come out eventually. But I amnotan invalid. I do not require special treatment, and I sure as hell don’t need people to speak on my behalf.”
“And Fletch can still talk to his daughter.” I point toward the eager dad already on the phone, his smile bright and broad as he paces the dirt and kicks rocks with each step. “You’ve run out of excuses, Chief.”
“I don’t need excuses! I’m telling youno. No, I do not want to stay. No, I do not intend to stay. No, I’m not attending a dumb wedding for people I don’t know, and no, I’m not hanging around for this stupid weekend thing when you could’ve just been upfront about it all in the first place.”
“You wouldn’t have come if I told you the truth!”
“No shit! And knowing that, you chose sneakiness and dishonesty. I don’t accept those behaviors within my friendships.”
“Friendships?” I shut her up with a single sly smirk. “I thought we were discussing professional relationships?”
Her lips snap closed and her eyes narrow to dangerous slits.
“What do you need from me to make this better?”
“You to leave me the hell alone. Lose my number and stop calling me. I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing. Our professional relationship has been mutually beneficial to this point, so now we cut ties and go on with our lives.”
“Well, that’s not going to work for me,” I snarl. “I’m not willing to cut ties.”
“Too fucking bad! I have scissors, and you don’t have control. I understand this is a tough realization for you, since you’re accustomed to always being in the driver’s seat. But you overplayed your hand this time.” She swings out and slaps Jess’ drink from my hand, wine splashing against the dirt, and the glass hitting small rocks with a crackingting. “You’re a grown woman, Sophia. It’s time to learn that not everyone has to play in your sandbox. There are other, bigger, better sandboxes out there. I choose to hang out in those.”
Shaking her head, she pushes away from Archer and makes a beeline for the grill. Jay and Kane watch her like she’s a grenade, and the pin is back here, in the dirt with Jess’s pinot. They clear the space for her, stepping back with their hands raised. So she grabs a fresh bread roll from the bag Kane already opened, snatches the tongs from Jay’s hand, then she slaps a burger together with fast, jerking movements.
“I’m going to bed.” She takes an angry bite, tearing the bread with her teeth, and stalks along the length of the bus. “If any of you get drunk and do dumb shit, that’s on you. I’ll autopsy the bodies tomorrow.”
“You screwed up.” Jen saunters past, swinging her hips and grinning at a watchful Corey. “I wassosure you were coming over to apologize. Ya know, eat crow, swallow your pride, and tell her you were wrong. Instead, you remained up there on your high horse and made the situation worse.”
