Chapter 7
“Do I have to tell you not to wrap the rope around your arm again, Summer, or do you think you can withhold yourself from the temptation?” Liza’s voice is crisp while she watches me count the kids in front of me holding onto their handles attached to the thick tug-of-war rope.
“Would it make you feel better to remind me what happens when I do?” I ask, cracking a grin at her that I barely feel. I’m still keyed up, even though it’s been hours since the coffee incident, and while I haven’t seen Kayde much today, it barely helps.
Because he’s still here. Still close enough to do damage, and I can’t decide if not knowing exactly where he is makes me feel better or worse.
Probably worse, somehow. Even though I’d prefer to be on opposite continents from him whenever possible.
“Would it make you feel better for me to remind you how miserable you were last time?” Is Liza’s quick, underhanded response. “Don’t be dumb just to get the victory, Summer. Winning isn’t that important.”
“Sure, sure,” I agree, lifting my hand in dismissal. “Winning is totally not that important, right Melody?” The ten year old has wandered closer to our conversation, hands still firmly fixed around her handle as we wait for the other team to get to their side of the grass where their end of the rope waits.
“If don’t win, we might as well never show our faces to the outside world again,” the girl replied stoically, blinking up at Liza like she’s completely serious.
Liza only looks down at her with something like disbelief on her face, along with a bit of amusement she can’t hide. “You’re a bad influence,” she informs me, one finger pointed in my direction. “Don’t let them do anything stupid either, got it?” I salute her, and when the action reminds me of Kayde from last night, I immediately wish I hadn’t.
“It’s Coyote Cabin,” Melody remarks from right in front of me, though I don’t turn at her words. Instead, I watch—curious more than anything—as Liza joins Kinsley on the ground outside the small area set up for tug-of-war. The cabins not currently competing sit around to observe the battles, and without hesitation, the camp nurse sinks to her knees beside Kinsley, leaning over to say something in my best friend’s ear as she does.
Maybe it’s just me, but their friendship definitely seems to have changed overnight. I’ll have to ask Kinsley about it later, if I get the chance.
“What?” It takes me a moment to process Melody’s words, and I glance across the grass to see that she’s right. Coyote cabin is taking their places across from us, the boys looking varying levels of worn out but still fiercely competitive.
“We beat them and we win, right?” Melody goes on, her fingers tightening in the handle of the rope.
“Yeah, umm.” I kick my brain into high gear and really, really consider wrapping the rope around my arms to get some kind of leverage advantage over Kayde.
But I don’t want another scar, or to lose a few layers of skin on my forearms.
He barely looks at me once. Instead, he patiently helps the boys with their side of the rope and gets everyone situated and in line. It takes a few minutes; the boys are rowdy from their previous wins and look at the girls of my cabin like this will be the easiest tug of war match they’ve played all day.
But my girls are ruthless. It’s just a shame they aren’t feral enough for me to set loose on Kayde so they can tear him apart with their sharp little teeth. Still, it makes for a good fantasy, and when I realize I’m smiling at Kayde and his eyes are on mine with bemusement, I don’t look away.
It’s too pretty of a picture.
Daniel moves to stand in the middle of the grass and looks over both of our teams, a whistle between his lips and sunglasses covering his eyes. He waits for a moment, watching Kayde move to grip the handles of the rope, then looks from the blond counselor to me.
I nod, and Kayde mirrors the gesture, giving Daniel a quick, confident smile as his boys fidget and make faces at my girls.
Daniel’s whistle is sharp, and he springs backward the moment the sound splits through the air, letting go of the flag that’s tied in the exact middle of the rope. My girls waste no time in jerking backward, and with some pleasure I see two of the boys lose their footing and leverage, and get pulled along the grass.
“Pull!” Melody yells, taking over in the leadership role she prefers. She glares at me as well, turning her head to meet my eyes with her burning, narrowed gaze like I might not be pulling with enough fervor.
“Yes ma’am.” I laugh, digging my feet into the grass and jerking backward with a redoubled effort. The flag moves a few inches, getting closer to the line on our side of the grass. All we have to do is get the flag over the spray-painted line in the grass, and we win.
But of course, my life is never this easy. At least not when Kayde is around. I hear the boys yell, and the rope stops its movement as the two boys in front finally get to their feet and manage to put their strength into pulling instead of just being dead weight. The rope wavers, and distantly I hear the other campers and counselors cheering for one team or the other. Melody’s voice is the loudest, however, as she instructs all of Redtail to try harder and not let Coyote win.
I’d never say it, but the little monster really is my favorite. She’ll probably grow up to be wanted in more than one country, but that’s okay. The nuclear weapon screaming insults at Coyote in front of me is perfect in her own way.
“We’re almost there!” she encourages, and I pull harder, feet slipping in the grass under me. Falling would be a real problem here; I’m our team’s anchor and if I hit my face on the ground, I don’t know if we’ll still win.
But God, Kayde is strong. Coyote’s boys aren’t exactly impressive by themselves. My girls have beaten them before. But Kayde adds more strength than Daniel used to, and I find myself unable not to scowl at him as I wish I could wrap this rope round my waist and jerk backward.
Damn I wish he’d end up on his pretty face in the dirt.
My mouth opens as I suck in heavy breaths, my team managing to take one more step before we’re jerked forward three; bringing the flag closer to the middle than I’d wish. Kayde finds my eyes over the heads of our kids, and a smile curls at the corner of his full lips.
But it’s not friendly. Even in front of all these people, he lets a little of that monster in him come out to play on his face. There’s cruelty in his features, and I can see the knotted muscles in his arms that prove he’s not going to let this go without a fight.
If I can win this, then I’m one step closer to winning our week-long game.
The thought is sudden and soft, but I swear strength floods me as sweat runs down my face, dangerously close to my eyes. I manage to take a step backward, then one more, until once again the purple flag tied to the rope dangles dangerously close to our sprayed line in the grass.
That is, until Kayde pulls again, the sun shining off his tightly bunched forearms while he steps a few steps back. He never looks away from me, though I see his mouth move like he’s talking to the boys.
Seconds later, I figure it must have been some kind of pep talk. The boys of Coyote send up a yell and start pulling and tugging fiercely, their movements sending my girls off balance and throwing one of them to the dirt.
Crap.
I’m forced two steps forward, until the flag is past the middle and dangling dangerously close to their line in the grass, instead. I’ve never been much of a pep talker, but before I can even think of what I would say, Melody is yelling again, reminding the girls of all the reasons they want to win here today.
She’s either going to be a world leader or a menace one day, and I have no idea which one.
But with her words and my camper getting back to her feet, we manage to pull the rope enough that the flag balances over the middle once again. My arms ache, and I flex my fingers as much as I can around the rope. If I’m getting tired, I know the girls are, too. The boys most likely as well, but Kayde…
Kayde barely looks like we’re asking him to do anything strenuous in the least. But he can’t beat all of us by himself, so I add my voice to Melody’s, cheering on my girls as I manage to take one step back, then another.
At last, the flag hovers only a step away from our line, and I can see the boys growing frantic across from us. Kayde’s speaking again, but anything he’s saying is completely lost over the cheers coming from the campers encircling the tug-of-war ring.
“Just one more!” Melody all but screams, and something in my blood demands victory here. Not over Coyote Cabin, exactly, like my girls want.
Over Kayde.
My muscles scream and protest; sweat trickling through my hair to gather uncomfortably on my neck. With all of my strength and a moderate amount of strain I pull backward, putting my weight into the rope as well. It’s a bad idea if I get jerked forward; I’d get pulled down into the grass just like so many kids have today.
But I don’t. I manage to take one small, tiny step instead, and somehow, that’s enough. The girls pull and the flag jerks toward us, flying over the line and sending three boys to their faces in the grass.
And, as an after effect, causing me to sprawl backward on my ass as well. I yelp, surprised, as the rope falls to the ground and my girls scream in exhilaration, all the while I shake my fingers out and wince at the soreness already building in my thighs from thumping on the grass so hard.
“Good job, Summer,” I mutter to myself with a sigh, drawing up my knees and shaking out my arms. “You almost hurt yourself again.”
A shadow falls over me, and a calloused palm appears in front of my face, fingers outstretched. “Congratulations,” Kayde purrs, holding it there. “Let me help you up. Your girls are impressive.”
“They’re terrifying.” I want to knock his hand away, or stab it with a blade I don’t have. But while those options are enticing to me internally, I know that if I don’t take his help, someone’s going to notice and then it’s going to be a thing. “You just had to come over here, didn’t you?” The words are out before I can shove them back down my throat, and his smile turns a little less friendly.
“Take my hand, Summer,” he tells me in a voice that makes it clear this isn’t an offer. “Be a good winner. Look like you don’t hate me.” Those two things are much harder than just taking his hand. But I let my shoulders fall with a sigh and place my hand in his, just for him to easily pull me to my feet quickly enough that a soft gasp escapes my parted lips, and I nearly topple into him.
It’s such a close call that I end up with one hand pressed to his chest, fingers splayed, and I wonder if he’s done it on purpose. ”I don’t like you though,” I hiss softly, keeping my face neutral and tone oh-so-soft.
It’s so much easier out here in the sunlight, when everyone is around, to talk to him normally like this. To let him know just how unhappy I truly am about this whole thing.
As if he doesn’t already know.
His fingers tighten on my wrist just enough to make me press my teeth together and wish I could protest. But when I blink up at him again, trying to gather my thoughts, I see his eyes aren’t on mine.
Not exactly, anyway. They’re fixed just above my eyes, but still on my face, and I find myself reaching up self consciously, the pad of my finger brushing over the scar I know he’s staring at.
I expect him to ask. To say something, now that I’ve acknowledged where his attention is fixed, but then his gaze meets mine for real, and he smiles just a little more. “Congratulations on your victory,” he concedes, stepping back just in time for the girls of Redtail to swarm me in excitement over their win.
“I hope you’re just as prepared for the rest of the game.” His eyes glitter as he says it, and while it sounds normal, innocent, and right, I know that it’s absolutely anything but. He turns back to his boys, patting shoulders and promising they did amazing, but I still can’t tear my gaze away from him.
Not when I’m oh so sure he’s plotting some kind of revenge on me for later.