Chapter 27:

A/N: I'm soooooo sorry I didn't update sooner. I went on an impromptu vacation to my grandma's house. And I promised people I would update Tuesday, but on Monday my little sister crashed my grandma's car into the house. So no, I didn't get to go home that day. But I'm here now, and I'm sure you'll forgive me since I'm updating with so many new chappies!!! Enjoy!! And review . . .

The next morning, Vincent and Katrina didn't come downstairs until late afternoon. They entered the kitchen, intent on getting something to eat, to see Bo at the table eating a bowl of cereal. His lips curved into a sly, amused grin and he began bouncing on the chair.

"Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Oh Vincent!" Bo cried out, mimicking Katrina's moans from the night before.

Vincent turned a bright shade of beet red. Katrina sniffed and sat down gingerly.

Bo burst into choking laughter as he watched her. "So are you going to be walkin' all bow-legged now? Need a cushion or anything?"

Katrina opened her mouth to retort but Vincent beat her to it. "Shut up Bo," he told his brother in an annoyed tone.

The other two stared in surprise. Bo shrugged and stood up. "I gotta go," he announced, "there's some shit I gotta do in town."

Vincent watched as his brother smirked at Katrina and nudged his head towards the door. The movement would have been imperceptible had Vincent not been looking directly at him. Blinking his eye from underneath the mask, he watched as Katrina's blue orbs took on a malicious, longing expression. Bo grinned back and crooked a finger. She wrinkled her nose and smiled. Vincent could see the faint regret in her expression as she and Bo exchanged knowing glances before he walked out the door.

A flicker of doubt rose within the deformed man, but it was quickly washed away when Katrina jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around him, her fingertips massaging his scalp lightly.

"Let's hurry and eat," she said, her lips close and hot against his ear. "Then we can take the chocolate syrup upstairs and have some dessert."

He looked at her, wondering what she meant. Katrina grinned and pressed her forehead against his so she could look in his eye as she talked.

"Who wants an ice cream sundae when I can have a Vincent sundae? I love licking chocolate syrup. Don't you?" Katrina laughed as understanding lit his eye and he turned a bright red.

Hours and two bottles of syrup later, Katrina was finishing dressing while an already showered and clothed Vincent lay on the bed watching her. Her eyes danced merrily at him as she slowly slid on a pair of very short denim cutoff shorts.

"You are beautiful," he said solemnly. She smiled.

"That's because everything you touch turns into something beautiful." He looked down at the bedsheets, embarrassed. Katrina leapt onto him, making him gasp for air. She grinned down at him and tickled the sides of his stomach. "Come on, sexy artist guy. Let's go get some fresh air."

Bo was just pulling into the driveway as they stepped outside. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground and pretended to have sex with his truck.

Katrina rolled her eyes. "You know you do that all the time anyway, Bo. Not just to make fun of us."

He chuckled at her lame joke and motioned for them to look in the bed of the truck. There were two teenagers tied up on the dirty metal, a male and female. "These two were gettin' it on in a car not far from here. Thought I'd punish them for fornicating."

Vincent sighed and went to help his brother haul the unconscious people down to the workshop. "You coming?" he asked Katrina.

She made a face. "Not this time." Smiling, she wrapped her arms around her body and hugged herself.

He smiled back, knowing all she wanted to do was sit and think about the night before. After swinging the male onto his back, Vincent followed Bo to the House of Wax. Katrina went up onto the porch and sat on the swing, enjoying the late afternoon light. Before long, Bo came out of the house, having come back through the tunnel, and sat on a chair across from the girl.

"If you make fun of me . . ."

"I ain't gonna make fun of you, Kitty Kat," Bo chuckled. "I was actually wonderin' if you'd like to accompany me to Woodston, seeing as Vincent will be a bit busy for awhile."

"To do what?"

"Well . . . there's a bar in Woodston that'd let you in, if you're with me. We can celebrate the loss of your innocence, or some shit like that."

Katrina laughed. "The loss of my innocence?"

Shrugging, Bo motioned towards the truck. "I already told Vincent that I'm taking you out tonight. He won't mind."

"All right, I'll go," she said finally. "But you better not get me so piss assed drunk that I puke, Bo-Bo."

An Hour Later . . .

Henry's Place would qualify as a piece of crap no matter whose standards were being used. Katrina made a face as she chugged down the rest of her rum and cola, her gaze glancing over the filthy tables and redneck clientele. She quickly learned to remain as close to Bo as possible, any time she strayed away someone tried to hit on her. The more belligerently drunken males were more physical about trying to convince her to have sex, but both she and Bo were too relaxed and intoxicated to want to start a fight.

"So you finally did it, huh?" Bo asked after their fourth drink. "Got Vincent to screw you."

She glared at him. "I told you not to bring that up."

"It's just that it's so fuckin' hilarious, Kitty Kat!" He grinned at her and motioned for the bartender to give him another drink.

"I don't see why."

"I think it's 'cause you got so turned on by what you did to those people we killed that you had to give in."

"You are such an ass, Bo Sinclair."

He grinned at her and returned to his drink. "What's going to happen if you get pregnant?"

"What?" she spluttered, spilling her new beer all over herself.

"I said, what's going to happen if you get pregnant? Are you going to stay out there in Ambrose, or will we need to get you an apartment here in town?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"I'd just like to know."

"That's not something I want to think about right now. Getting pregnant, I mean."

"Kitty Kat," Bo said drunkenly as he draped his heavy arm around her shoulders, "I would be proud if you push the next generation of Sinclair's out that pretty little body of yours."

Katrina began to laugh uproariously. "You're a drunken dickhead, that's what you are. Making me think you were getting all serious and shit when you're really just plastered."

Bo knocked back a shot of whiskey and pushed his chair away from the bar. "Let's go, Kitten."

Shrugging, Katrina drained her beer and followed him out the door. "I feel like having some fun," she said with a cynical smile.

"That's what I was thinkin, darlin'."

Katrina grinned and pointed her finger at a building across the street.

"Silver Crest Tattoo Parlor?" Bo asked. His lip curled into a smirk.

"I bet there's no one in there but the tattoo guy."

He took her hand and they crossed the dark road, hurrying to the entrance.