Chapter 6
Sleeping is out of the question. At least, more than a few snatched minutes or maybe an hour before sunrise as I’m curled up under my blankets, like they’ll protect me from the boogeyman.
From Kayde, who’s as much of a real life boogeyman as could ever exist. The night’s events run through my mind on repeat as I lie curled up on my soft mattress. And with my eyes shut tight, I can’t help but listen to every single noise outside of my cabin.
What if he lied to me?
After sitting out on my steps with my flashlight in hand for an hour after we made our deal, I’d been mollified enough to at least head inside and out of the night air. Surely he wouldn’t wait this long to carry out his little plan…right?
But the panic of every sound, every possibility that he’s outside instead of it just being the breeze on the cabin window, has me jumping all night long and wishing I’d remembered to close my windows.
Though I know for a fact, neither glass nor blankets will save me from Kayde.
Too soon, the sun is up and I can hear the girls in my cabin getting themselves up as well. They’re loud enough that I can hear snatches of conversation, though nothing concrete, and I stretch my tired, stiff limbs while I listen.
God, I’m tired. Exhausted, really, and more than anything, I just want to go back to bed. Mentally I scan today’s schedule, and with a groan I realize that it’s not going to be a very restful day, like it would be if this was a crafts dedicated day.
No, it’s competitive games day. Well, round one of it, at least. My morning is going to be filled with the kids swimming, and my afternoon is going to be absolute hell.
But at least this year I know better than to wrap the tug-of-war rope around my arm, even if it’s loose.
Unfortunately, I still haven’t learned how not to walk up to strangers and not suffer the consequences. A groan leaves me, and I press my hand to my face while wishing I could go back to bed. It would be unfair to ask Kinsley to watch my cabin today just so I can catch up on some sorely needed sleep.
But more than that, I need to be out in the camp today. I need to grab Kinsley and hold on to her, while somehow making it known to Kayde that he cannot, under any circumstances, go after her. I need help; or to talk to someone. But that’s not possible.
Kayde’s made sure that’s not possible for me, and the sudden, lonely feeling is…harsh. I find myself rubbing my fingers up and down my arms, and I shiver under the touch.
But I need to change. I need to brush my teeth, too, and hopefully giving myself tasks like this will distract me from all the shit that happened in the woods last night. I suck in a breath, then another, and with my nails digging into my skin, I cross the room to open the top drawer of my dresser.
Snatching the first Crestview Counselor t-shirt I can find, I barely even glance down at the material before pulling shorts and a swimsuit out of the other drawers. Quickly I strip, then yank on the clean clothes awkwardly as my brain continues to misfire in every way imaginable.
I shouldn’t have agreed to anything. That’s the main thought going through my brain, and it causes my hands to tremble as I yank the shorts up to my hips. My mind wants to tell me I was stupid, and rash, and that I’d made an awful decision last night.
Maybe I had, but it meant that no one died. And as far as I know, everyone is still safe from him. But I can’t help running my words and his over and over again through my head, like a bad indie film on repeat.
All the while, I pretend I can’t feel the burning crawl of his saliva in my mouth, or the way it had tasted on my tongue. I swallow around the sudden thickness, and remind myself of how he humiliated me about calling the police, and the burning, uncomfortable feeling of that.
Not to mention how he’s thrilled to have control of me for the rest of this camp session, and how he’s looking forward to trying to break me.
I can’t let him do that.
Finally, my thoughts slam into cohesion. I feel awake for the first time since his kiss; like I’m finally all here instead of drifting somewhere in the woods waiting to be put back together.
I will not let Kayde Fucking Lane break me. No matter what he asks—tells—me to do for the next eight days. I can’t deny that I’m terrified of him. I can’t pretend to be something I’m not. Absently, I reach up, fingers unerringly finding the scar that splits my left brow. I’ve had it for years, and Kinsley is one of three people who knows where it came from.
The other two, my parents, were in the room when it happened. One of them, my dad, is the reason I have the scar in the first place. My finger skims the shiny, smooth skin and this, at least, is a memory I’m good at pushing away and down under the moldy, stained carpet in my brain that holds a lot more than the one time Dad fucked up my face.
But I’d survived him, and I’ll survive Kayde.
There’s no other possibility.
That’s the feeling I let seep through my bones as I square my shoulders and stare at myself in the full-length mirror on my wall. I look tired, that’s for sure. With circles under my eyes and my hair an absolute mess. But my hair is easily fixed by a quick brush and tossing it up into a ponytail. The dark circles will have to stay, and I’m sure Darcy will use them later for ammunition.
Especially if she finds out I met up with her man.
Though, in reality, she should thank me for that.
The shirt I’d found is one from earlier this summer. The once-white material is now rainbow tie-dye, and my shorts sit high on my waist, with the hem ending somewhere around the middle of my thighs. Still staring at my tired face, I slide on my sneakers before shoving my way out the door and into the sunlight beyond.
I need coffee if I’m going to survive the next hour, let alone the whole ass day. My feet drag along the dirt, and I know I’m behind the girls from my cabin when I finally make it into Otter Hall, only to stagger to the table I normally occupy with Kinsley and, lately, Liza.
Both of them are there, and the looks of sympathetic confusion I get aren’t lost on me as I fall to my ass in the plastic chair. “Coffee,” I mutter. “I need it black and injected into my veins post haste.”
“Late night?” Liza sounds empathetic when she says it, and I open one eye just to see her hand slip free from Kinsley’s on the table.
Well, I guess I wasn’t the only one with an eventful night.
I’m just the one that regrets hers the most.
“Didn’t sleep. Took over Darcy’s walk around,” I groan, and barely notice Kinsley getting to her feet to vanish into the kitchen. When she comes back, though, with a mug of black coffee and a plate of French toast, all I can do is moan my thanks and drag the plate closer to me so I don’t have to expend as much effort getting it to my mouth.
“I heard Darcy’s pissed today,” Kinsley mutters, sitting back in her chair.
“Oh, yeah?” I sit up enough to glance around Otter Hall and breathe a short sigh of relief when I see the pissed off, but thankfully still breathing, ex-volleyball player sitting with Daniel on the other side of the room.
She certainly looks displeased.
“Something about Kayde ditching her, I don’t know.” I take a bite of the French toast Kinsley so helpfully drenched in syrup for me, and groan in approval. “Sucks for her. Though I don’t suppose you ran into a nice surprise on your walk?”
The French toast in my mouth instantly turns to ash, and I choke on the bite I’ve just started to swallow. My whole body jackknifes upward, and as I choke, tears stream down my face.
“Shit, Summer—” Kins jumps to her feet, and even Liza looks worried as I hack up the suddenly too-sweet mouthful. “Are you?—”
Arms wrap around my shoulders, and I’m jerked all the way to my feet instead of being bent over the table. “Swallowing works better when you aren’t all hunched over or lying down,” a familiar, sweet voice chuckles softly. Sure enough, now that I’m standing with my head not perpendicular to my torso, the food slowly makes its way down my throat, though it burns every inch of the way.
But not nearly as painfully as the sear of Kayde’s skin against mine where he’s touching me. I fight not to move; not to give any outward sign of discomfort as my eyes continue to stream tears. I can’t scream. I can’t let them know?—
“Are you going to give her the Heimlich?” Kins intones, eyes flitting between our faces. There’s something in her eyes, a curiosity I’d so love to discourage. But while I’m gasping for air, I can’t do much more than signal through uneven breaths that something is very wrong.
Unfortunately for me, she doesn’t quite get the message.
“Nah, I think she’s okay.” He’s back to that teeth-aching sweetness. Back to his Lassie persona that once had made me grind my teeth in irritation. Now, I wish more than anything that it was his real face, and not just the mask he wears around everyone else.
I’d much prefer boring, predictable Kayde to what he really is.
Still my resolution from this morning flickers to life in my chest, and I force myself to straighten before pulling away from Kayde with my chin raised. “I’m fine,” I tell him coolly, knowing I can’t start acting like I hate him or as though he’s done something to me.
At least not in front of Liza and especially Kinsley.
I won’t give him any reason to hurt her.
He lets go of me without protest, still smiling that sunshine-bright grin in front of my poor eyes. My hand finds the coffee mug and, to my credit, I don’t smash it into his face before stabbing him in the throat with the biggest piece I can find.
Instead, I down the entire thing, my eyes never leaving his. It’s not a challenge or a dare. I don’t even know what kind it would be if it was, but still his eyes darken just a touch, and his teeth sink into his full bottom lip as he watches me.
“I have to wrangle my kids,” I tell him kindly, a smile breaking out over my face as I set the mug down. “Before they kill someone.” But the words fall flat. The joke isn’t as funny today as it had been yesterday or the day before.
Because Kayde really might kill someone this week.
“Hey, it’s uh, competitive games day today, right?” he asks, managing to sound like he really doesn’t know. “Our cabins all fight it out for the trophy, yes?”
“Yes,” Liza supplies, getting her tray together and deftly stacking my empty mug and half-empty plate on top of it. “Starting with tug-of-war at two. Then Capture the Flag after. And don’t think you can get out of it,” she adds, grinning. “Counselors with cabins all have to play as well.”
“Oh, right.” Kayde’s eyes never leave mine, and he tips his chin ever-so-slightly as his light brown eyes gleam. “I’m looking forward to playing.”
And somehow, in some way, I’m sure he doesn’t mean whatever games the campers will play this afternoon.