Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ezra

T he incident with Ice Pick had the potential to completely derail the rest of our day, but Kindra takes it in stride, laughing about it on the way back through the jungle. We reach the pavilion right at noon and take a seat.

Maurice's assistant bustles past us, setting a sandwich board before us and refilling the missing ingredients at other tables. A variety of sliced breads stand at each end of the large wooden board. The meat selection makes my mouth water: turkey, ham, and what I hope is cow-derived roast beef. Each cut of meat has been rolled up and layered around a bowl of mayonnaise.

Kindra picks up a knife and gestures toward the creamy white substance. "This is actually mayo, right?" she asks the assistant as he flutters by again.

The assistant stops his buzzing and stands completely still, a look of horror on his face. He didn't look this concerned when he served us viande d'homme . It's not a far cry to assume that they could be using...other things back there in that kitchen.

I back her up. "Honestly, it's a valid question. It's really just a yes or no answer."

"Sick!" he belts in his thick French accent.

"So is eating people," Kindra says under her breath as he runs off, completely flustered.

I want Kindra to enjoy her lunch, so I take one for the team. I grab the knife from her hand, dip the tip into the mixture, and taste it.

"It's mayo," I say with a sigh of relief.

"Thank fuck." She plucks the knife from my fingertips and begins building a sandwich.

"Afternoon," Bennett sings as he comes into the pavilion and has a seat in front of me.

If my brother is here, where is his arch nemesis? His sing-song welcome makes me worry he did in fact stuff her in the dresser...but not to fuck her.

Please tell me he didn't kill her.

"Bennett, where's Cat?" I ask.

He grabs a few slices of bread, cheese, and meat, and slaps it all together. "The kitten is asleep."

Not permanently, I hope. But then I remember Bennett brewing Gary a sleepy-time cocktail. "Did you drug her?"

"Drug her?" Kindra's eyes go wide.

"Calm your tits," Bennett says. "Her ankle looked pretty painful, so I thought it would help her sleep."

I give my brother a knowing look. Kindness doesn't exist in his repertoire.

He clears his throat and adds, "Plus, someone can only listen to a person sing a vulgar version of the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song for so long."

Kindra chuckles and begins humming the tune under her breath.

"Do I have to drug you next?" Bennett asks.

"Over my dead body," I say as my spine instinctively stiffens.

"She can shit on me, but I can't dish it back? Quit your posturing." Bennett grabs a rolled-up piece of turkey and shoves it into his mouth, but not before I catch the sparkle in his eye as a thought strikes him. "Did you know Midnight Masochist is coming for the hunt?"

I choke on my spit.

"Who's that?" Kindra asks as she pats my back.

I continue coughing.

Bennett smiles. "He's an old friend, isn't he, Ezra?"

She gives me an odd look, and I get it. Who reacts like this when they hear of a good friend's imminent arrival?

Instead of pressing the issue, Kindra keeps patting my back. I'm still coughing up my panic when she stops and stares at me.

"Okay, I'm going to get you a drink before you drown on air," she says. "Water good?"

"Splendid," I say with the most pained smile I've ever plastered on my face. Regardless, she doesn't notice as she heads to the outdoor bar. I immediately turn to face Bennett. "Since when is Maverick coming?"

"Jim mentioned that he finished his assignment early, so I shot him an invite. He couldn't be more pleased to come, honestly."

This is a low blow if I've ever seen one. Midnight is a good friend of ours, and we've known him almost as long as we've known each other. Which means he knows I'm not the Crumpet Killer.

Which means this could all blow up in my face.

"What the hell did I do to you, Bennett?"

"You didn't do anything to me. Except announce my STD history to the entire island."

"You invited Maverick because I... Goddamn it, Bennett."

"No, it has nothing to do with that." Bennett grabs some bread from the board and starts slathering it with mayo. "I just don't think you're going to tell her. You said you'd tell her before the hunt, so he shouldn't fuck anything up. She'll already know."

I need to get to him before he gets here and tells her everything I don't have the balls to tell her. The selfish side of me wants to keep her in the dark for the foreseeable future. It's bloody unfair. Now that I've finally fallen for someone, she'll be ripped away from me. But do I have any right to keep hiding this from her?

Because I am the villain here.

Not because I killed her brother—the piece of shit deserved his death—but because I've lied to Kindra. But I don't know how to stop.

"Bennett—"

"No, Ezra. Do not try to get me on your side here. You've played with that poor girl's heart and vagina long enough." He begins grabbing each type of meat and at least two different types of cheese, all of which he crams onto the pile of mayo.

"You don't understand. You have no idea what it's like to have someone care about you."

"Plenty of women have cared about me, Ezra. The feelings have not been mutual."

"Then you don't know what it's like to be in?—"

"Hey, guys, what are you talking about so angrily?" Kindra asks as she sets a bottle of water in front of me and takes her seat.

Bennett and I answer in unison. Unfortunately, our responses differ as I shout sports and he cries politics. For people who thrive at concealing their misdeeds, we're really making a mess of this.

"Sports and politics," I clarify to Kindra.

"Sounds awfully boring."

"It won't be for long," Bennett says with a smile as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

I swear he wants me to have a coronary. Right here.

My whole world is on fire and nothing is okay. I may not deserve happiness, and I may not deserve her, but can't I pretend for just a while longer? I don't expect God's blessing, but Lucifer isn't offering me a deal, either. And I would give him whatever he wants if I could have her.

My soul and eternal damnation in exchange for a single lifetime of her love.

But I can't have that. I can have a few more hours, and then it's over. I'd best make the most of it.

I turn to Kindra. "Do you want to go bowling?"

She lowers her sandwich. "Jim built a bowling alley on the island?"

"Not exactly. It's only a little two-lane job crafted beachside. You use human heads as bowling balls and just chuck them down the lane at some limbs that have been stood in the sand. Jim's macabre creation. To be fair, it's more like bowling mixed with cornhole, but it's a lot of fun and a good way to blow off some steam."

"You haven't even eaten yet," she says as she motions to my empty plate.

Bennett chugs a beer to wash down the rest of his cholesterol sandwich, then begins making another one. "I don't think he's very hungry right now."

"I'll go," she says through the last bite of her meal. "Sounds like a good time."

I expected more of a fight from her, considering we usually have to pull her teeth to get her to join in. This is a pleasant surprise.

"I feel like I can actually enjoy myself now that I've learned the truth about my brother's killer," she adds, and my heart collapses in on itself like a dying star.

Bennett clears his throat, adding salt to a festering wound. I kick his ankle beneath the table and pray the next sandwich takes him out.

We say goodbye. Well, Kindra says goodbye to Bennett. I just walk away.

This isn't what I pictured when I sought my brother all these years ago. I figured we'd share a brotherly connection and support each other, and for the most part, we have, but for someone with no moral compass, he appears to feel very strongly about my dishonesty. Or maybe it's deeper.

Maybe Bennett is afraid he's losing me.

Kindra and I head down the beach. My mind races with ways to keep my charade intact, but I'm running out of time. Regardless of Bennett's reasoning, he's determined to see Kindra and me separated by a monumental divide.

We reach a mound of severed heads and recognize some of them from the games we've participated in. Others have decayed past the point of recognition. Flies swarm the macabre pile.

Two lanes have been cordoned off with rope, and at the end, dismembered arms and legs poke from the sand. Metal rods have been driven into the flesh to keep the limbs upright. Rigor doesn't last forever, after all.

I step toward the pile of heads and pluck one from the top. I choose a fresher one for Kindra so that the skin doesn't slough away when she touches it.

I place the head in her hands, then motion down the lanes. "The goal is to pick up a head, toss it, and knock down as many pins as you can."

Kindra studies the head, then decides to go for it. She sticks two fingers into the nose and one into the mouth. She steps toward the first lane, raises the head, then stops.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

She lowers the head and turns to face me with a shrug. "I'm not sure. You've hardly looked at me since we left the pavilion, and you were quiet on our walk down the beach. It feels like something is off. What changed?"

"Not a thing, pet. I promise. I've just been thinking about the hunt. That's all."

"I'm really excited about that. Now that everything is behind me, I feel so much better. Lighter. And it's all because of you." Kindra looks back at me with a smile as she grips the severed head and throws it down the lane, knocking six arms and legs onto their sides.

But with her words, she's knocked everything out of me .

All because of you.

Yes, her ten years of agony. Every tear she shed over her brother. Her struggle to connect with others because she's lost her trust in humanity. All of that is because of me.

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.