Page 7 of Property of Bob

“No.”

“Was he?”

Prime stared at me.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on.”

He turned away from me.

“Where are you going?”

“Clubhouse.”

“I asked to see Bob.”

“And I said not tonight.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

“Actually, right now, I kind of do. But you can ask Anchor if you don’t like my answer, but I don’t think you are going to like his answer either.”

I stared at his back. “You’re incredibly irritating.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “So I’ve been told.”

I flipped him off, and he laughed.

I stayed where I was.

Prime took a few more steps before stopping. “You coming?”

“No.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I’m not following some stranger into the woods when the person I came here to see isn’t even there.”

Prime looked toward the darker path beyond the parking lot and then back at me. “Fair.”

“Thank you.”

“You can stay here with your dead RV if you want.”

I narrowed my eyes as he smiled.

Asshole.

I glanced back at the RV, then at the road leading off the island. Then toward the lights deeper in the trees.

I had nowhere else to go. That realization pissed me off. “Fine.”

Prime started walking again.

I followed.

“I still don’t like leaving my RV.”