Pretty Instinct Read Online Free Page B

Rhett rubbing his back and smiling at me.
    “Who’s the winner?”
    “I’m the winner.” He peeks one eye out at me. Precious. How could anyone ever be mean to that face; those huge, innocent eyes, filled with unconditional love, and those sweet dimples?
    “You’re damn right you are.” I hop up, grabbing his hand to raise his arm triumphantly in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, boy and girls, Conner Matthew Carmichael is the winner!”
    The boys clap and hoot while Cami rolls her eyes and continues to stuff shit in her duffle. Now Conner beams ear to ear, all again right with the world.
    “I’m keeping her fish,” he boasts and we all die laughing.
    Oh shit, he was holding the bags of fish! And now he’s not, surely lost in all the commotion.
    Looks like we’re making another stop.
    “And I’m getting the top bunk back!” Jarrett chimes in, sick of sleeping on the pull-out.
    My boys, so resilient.

Chapter 3
    After the longest two hours of any of our lives, with suffocating amounts of tension in the air, we finally make it to the rest stop Cami designated. Lucky for her, we’d still been in our homeland of Ohio when she’d lost her shit, so she was able to call someone to meet her a small jaunt down the road. Otherwise, I would have offloaded her randomly. At least, I think I would have.
    Throwing down his cards in the middle of our four man game of Uno, Conner’s up and ready as soon as we stop and he sees a park out the window.
    “You didn’t say Uno,” Rhett teases him as he picks up the scattered cards. “I win.”
    “Move,” Cami barks at Conner, trying to shove past him and knocking her case into his hip as she does so.
    “I’m not playing with her,” I warn Jarrett in a menacingly low snarl. “Get her the fuck off my bus before you have to alibi my whereabouts at the time of the murder.” I’m truly floored, no idea of the deep-rooted venom she’d hidden. And maybe she’s just having a categorically bad day…but I won’t risk her having another one on my bus.
    Jarrett hurries to the door, throwing an arm around Conner’s shoulders. “Let’s scoot back, buddy, give Cami room to get off the bus.”
    “Where’s Cami going?” He looks around, confused. “Cami, where are you going?”
    “The fuck away from you!”
    Instinctually, Jarrett has Conner moved back already, thank goodness, ‘cause I’m done, up with a fist full of her hair and my arm reared back as Rhett chuckles from behind me, his arm squeezing around my waist.
    “Almost over,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Hold it together long enough for her to get off the bus and you never have to worry about her again. Come on.” He untangles my fingers from her greasy strands and walks backwards, dragging me with him. “Come sit down with me until she’s gone.”
    I only do so under duress. He holds me down forcefully on his lap, my head falling against his chest. As relieved as I am that the debacle’s seconds from being over, it’s created a whole new problem. “We have a gig in a few days and no fucking bassist. What’re we gonna do?”
    “I can play!” Conner raises his hand, eavesdropping from way over there.
    Jarrett nudges him with a shoulder and heads to sit down by us, Cami completely unloaded now. Time for our little family to have a meeting, minus Bruce. He’ll stay put in his captain’s chair, steering clear of any drama.
    “You play great, Con.” And he did. He was talented, even wrote some songs way back when. “But we need you on tambourine, remember?” Jarrett lovingly reminds him.
    Every show, Uncle Bruce watches over Conner, right off stage, shaking his tambourine like a champ. I feel awful that all he can do now is shake the noisy thing from the wings, but it’s too unpredictable to let him on stage, some crowds nicer than others, venues ranging from large and rowdy to small and accommodating. We adjust accordingly.
    “That is right.” His brow wrinkles.