August 18th excerpt:

Dean put his foil-wrapped sandwich down next to the small picnic that was set up for Sam and Bowman. “Make sure no ants go after that for me,” he said as he let it go. “And no sneaking any bites, hear me?”

“Sure, Dean. Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam said in the fakest, most syrupy-sweet voice he could muster. He hid a grin underneath his bangs as he stared down at the wrapper his food was on, knowing exactly how his tone would be taken.

Dean scoffed at the sarcastic tone from his brother. “At this rate I might have to find someone else to ride shotgun in the car.”

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