Dead of Summer

Chapter 12

Idon’t know where to go.

The confusion sinking into my bones causes me to meander, and somehow I keep the small, sugar-coated edible clutched in my palm instead of pocketing it or just eating it. While going back to my cabin is probably exactly what I should be doing, this is the second night in a row I’m terrified Kayde won’t be able to find me and will think I’m hiding from him.

And tonight of all nights, Kinsley is out doing her walk around the camp and would be an easy target for him, if he wanted to really fuck with me. The thought propels me away from my cabin, onto one of the trails that leads around the other cabins, as well.

There has to be a better way of doing this than just wandering around and hoping he’ll sneak up on me like he did last night. But without him giving me a meeting time or place—because of course he’d never be that helpful—I’m left to just…wander.

And worry.

My feet scuff along in the gravel, kicking up dust I can barely see as I walk. It’s too late to wish I hadn’t done this. Especially when making this deal and playing this game saved not only the kids in Camp Crestview but also my best friend. I refuse to let myself feel regret, or to think about what I could’ve done better.

Even though there are definitely things I could’ve done better in that situation. Probably.

Like what? I ask myself, replaying the conversation in the woods from almost forty-eight hours ago. What in the world could I have done differently that wouldn’t have ended in the deaths of way too many kids and other counselors? Kayde hadn’t exactly been vague about his plans. And I meant it then when I’d vowed not to be the Camp Crestview Massacre Final Girl.

I could definitely never recover from that.

My steps come to a halt and I glance up, not really surprised when I find myself looking at the steps of Coyote Cabin. The lights are all out, something I can’t accomplish before midnight at Redtail, and in the darkness I see a figure sitting on the steps adjoining the tiny deck that holds the door to the counselor’s side of the cabin.

“This is unexpected.” His soft voice carries across the open space, and he gets to his feet gracefully, stretching with his arms up over his head like he isn’t in any hurry. “I didn’t think you’d come find me.” It’s hard not to watch his strides that eat up the ground between us, but Kayde doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t do more than stand in front of me, though I can feel his gaze on me while I look anywhere but at him. “I figured I’d give you a few more minutes then come find you.”

“What if you couldn’t find me?” My voice is as soft as his, and I can’t help the words that spill from my mouth. “You never tell me where to meet you. Or what time. What if you can’t find me, and you think I’m purposefully hiding from you or some shit?” Finally I tilt my head back to look up at him, though all of the hatred I can muster is overshadowed by my anxiety, I’m sure.

Kayde just tips his head to the side, eyes narrowed in thought. “You’re not very hard to find, sweetheart,” he purrs at last, his voice changing from his daytime camp counselor tone to the one reserved for me during the night. It sends a shiver down my spine, and I look away from him, unconvinced. “Are you asking if I’ll take it out on someone else? Someone who’s doing her walk around tonight?”

I flinch at his words, and I know in that instant he has me pegged. He’s always so fucking good at that, and I hate it more than anything else in my life.

“Just don’t hide from me,” he chuckles as he says it, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world and the easiest thing ever. “Not hard, Summer. Just”—he reaches out, fingers wrapping lightly around my throat for only a moment before falling to his side—“don’t ever hide from me. Understand?”

All I can manage is a quick nod, but his growl tells me that’s not good enough for him. “I understand,” I say finally, forcing myself to meet his eyes instead of spontaneously trying to drill a hole into the ground to hide in with my gaze alone.

“Good girl.” The wave of something that tingles down my spine is confusing at best, questionable at worst. But I push it out of my mind and frown at him to show every ounce of disdain I can muster. “Since you were nice enough to come to me instead of making me look for you, we don’t have to walk back to your cabin.” He says it like he’s doing me a favor, but fear rises in my throat, causing a burst of nausea to follow. “You’re okay.” His words are edged in a soft, purring chuckle, like I’m a terrified kitten he’s trying to coax out of the woods. “Come on, Summer.” His hand finds mine, the one clenched around the edible, and before I can stop him, he pries my fingers open and his brows furrow at the feeling of what I’m holding.

“It’s—” I break off when he palms the edible and brings it up to see it in the scant light.

“Planning on drugging yourself to sleep through this?” he only teases, and doesn’t give it back as he tugs on my hand again, until I’m following him up the few stairs, across the creaky wood, and into his cabin.

“No,” I snap, probably too sharply as I stumble over the doorframe and into the small space beyond. He closes the door and locks it with ease, then holds up the gummy again in the light, as if to contradict my statement. “Kinsley gave it to me right before I came here. I haven’t taken it already because…” My voice is soft as I wave my arms around in explanation. “Because you.”

“Did she give it to you for any reason, or…?”

“She said I look like I haven’t been sleeping.” My answer comes after a short hesitation, and I shove my hands into the pockets of my shorts. “She knows they make me sleepy, and said I looked like I could use a good night’s sleep for once. That’s all, okay?”

“How long do they take to kick in for you?” Kayde sounds curious, instead of mad, and I search his face in the light from his bedside table for a moment before answering.

“About an hour, give or take. That’s when I start to feel it. Normally I last another thirty minutes or so before I’m actually sleepy, though.”

“Okay then.” He holds it out to me, his palm flat as he stands there, waiting. “Go on and take it.”

I blink, sure I’ve misheard him. My brain is definitely turning against me, because he has to know what he’s offering me. “I umm. I’m not exaggerating,” I tell him slowly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “It’ll knock me out, Kayde. Or at the very least I’ll be a sleepy mess who you won’t get much out of.”

“I know what being high is like, sweetheart.” Kayde chuckles. “So take it.”

This feels like a very bad idea. Still my fingers inch forward, especially when his eyes narrow just slightly enough I know it’s not a kind offer or a suggestion. If he’s telling me to do something, I have to do it.

Including this, though at the moment it feels like it’s for my benefit, not his.

My fingers curl around the small gummy, and I pop it in my mouth while he watches. In seconds I’ve swallowed it, though the edible seems to slide down my throat slowly, without any rush, and threatens to choke me.

“I’ll admit I’m kind of selfish, though,” he adds, once my mouth is empty. “I want to see what high, sleepy Summer looks like. And how she responds when I play with her.”

Suddenly, I wish I could vomit on command. My stomach twists, trying to reject the THC infused gummy, but it’s no use.

I really should’ve fucking thought this through.

But it’s too late to do anything other than feel the bone-aching regret that flickers through my body, and I distract myself by looking around the small, minimalist room that’s so similar to mine. The only difference is the extra blankets piled on his bed, and I tilt my head to the side, eyes slanting his way. “You making a nest?” I ask, before I can tell my stupid mouth to stop it.

“Hmm?” He follows my gaze to the bed, and grins wolfishly, a tinge of something like embarrassment shining in his eyes for only a fraction of a second. “Something like that.” He chuckles. “I just like sleeping with a lot of blankets, I guess.”

It’s almost endearing. Not that I’m ever going to say that. It humanizes him in some way, though I keep that thought locked in my brain and behind clenched teeth. How can I treat him like a boogeyman, when he does something so…normal?

Easily,I remind myself. Because he’s a serial killer. Even though I don’t know that for certain, I know he was at least planning on it.

I jump when his hands find my throat again, though he only pulls me against him, my back flush against his front as he sighs happily. “The shower was so much fun,” he purrs against my ear, slotting his hips against mine until there’s absolutely no room between us. “But sweetheart, all it really did was make me want to fuck you so badly I could barely think about anything else today. You want that? You want me to fuck you? Fill up your pretty cunt and leave you begging for more?”

I should be able to stop myself by now. I should have a better handle on my nerves, my anger, and my disdain for the man behind me. But I don’t. That’s clear enough when I lean back, my head on his shoulder, and turn slightly so I can look at him. He gazes at me expectantly, and a beatific smile cracks across my lips.

“I wanted…” I begin, and his mouth ticks with either amusement or annoyance. “For you to fall out of that tree today and break your neck.” I say it just as sweetly to him, feeling his grip tighten on my neck and where his other hand is wrapped against my waist. “But, as they say, you can’t always get what you want.”

For a moment, Kayde Lane just stares at me. I can’t read his expression; it’s somewhere between incredulousness and bemusement, though I don’t know which he’s really leaning toward. I know I shouldn’t have said it. That was clear the moment it came out of my mouth. But if I’m going to die, or if Kayde’s going to break me like he says he wants to, then I’m absolutely going to speak my mind about it.

“Well, they also say if you want something done right, you should do it yourself,” Kayde points out, lifting his hand to slip his fingers under the waistband of my shorts. “So I think, Summer, if you want me dead that badly, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

Before I can reply, Kayde walks me forward, not stopping until my knees hit the bed and he can shove me forward. Not that I get a chance to do more than bounce against the old bed before he’s manhandled me onto my ass instead, so I have to look up to see his face.

“But what would you even do, hmm?” he asks, shucking his shirt over his head and tossing it to the top of his dresser. Just like last night, it’s impossible not to look at the perfection of his upper body, or the way that it’s clear he doesn’t spend the rest of the year lounging on a sofa like I do.

Still, I refuse to let my eyes dip to the sharp v of his hips that points downward in a way that, on anyone else, would make my mouth water. Fuck, it’s unfair that God let him be so attractive.

The lord should be positively ashamed of himself, frankly.

“Would you stab me?”

“Without hesitation.” He kicks off his shoes as I answer, and rewards me with a flick of a smile in my direction.

“What would you stab me with?” Kayde reaches out, his hands on my shirt as he tugs on it pointedly. I can only hesitate for a moment; I know this game well enough by now, after all. Lifting my arms feels so difficult though, and he doesn’t remark on how I tremble as he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it over with his.

“Anything.” I keep my voice hard and try not to let him know that my heart is beating rabbit-fast in my chest. “A screwdriver is on my mind tonight. Think it would hurt?”

“I think it would be positively agonizing.” Kayde is quick to agree, and to my surprise, he takes a step back. “Take off your clothes for me, Summer.”

Yet again, it isn’t a question. And it’s not a request, though I still hesitate. “Unless you don’t want to?” The words are soft, silky, and oh so gentle that it makes my teeth ache.

“I would just love to.” I would rather do anything but. I’d rather do anything but this, and we both know it. “Any preferences? Fast or slow? Up to down, or?—”

“Careful,” Kayde breaks in, chin lifting. “If you keep talking to me like that, I’m going to punish you for being such a brat, Summer.”

I look away quickly, chin whipping to the side way too fast to be anything but obvious as I try to hide just what that does to my insides. My stomach curls, warmth suffuses my body, but I still take a deep breath and try to look unaffected.

But of course, it doesn’t work.

Why would it?

Kayde grips my chin and jerks my face up to him, a smirk sitting wide on his mouth. “No.” He chuckles, obviously surprised. “Really? That’s what you are, sweetheart? That’s what finally gets a reaction from you? Calling you my spoiled little brat who can’t keep her sweet mouth shut?”

“Stop,” I whisper, reminding myself over and over that I am not into this and I do not like any part of what we’re doing. “I didn’t?—”

“Oh, but you do.” God he’s just so delighted that it should be illegal. “But what is it exactly that you like about this? Do you like being a brat just with me? Trying to prove some little bit of control and saying things you think will needle me for a reaction? No…” he trails off, looking me over thoughtfully before adding in a velvety tone, “That’s not it, is it?”

“I literally have no idea what you mean?—”

“You want to push me, yes. But you want me to push you back.” The grin that curls over his lips is every bit as feral as the growl he finishes the words in, and Kayde steps back with a look of absolute delight on his features.

Fuck.

“Then please, by all means, be as much of a brat as you want. I’ll indulge you.” I hate the way he says it. I hate his delight and his fucking arrogance. “I’ll show you every consequence for being a brat you’d never dare to dream about, baby girl. Even in your darkest fantasies.” I can’t tell if it’s an offer or a threat, but to be safe, I’m marking those words as an absolute threat.

But all I do is stare at him, sullen, before standing up enough to kick off my shoes and wiggle out of my shorts. His smile widens, and he steps forward before I can sit back down, running his knuckles over my cheek. “Such a brat,” he repeats affectionately. “Too bad you’re too afraid to be honest and go all out for me, hmm?” He tilts his head to the side, and the amusement in his eyes, the way he looks at me like he genuinely likes me, makes my stomach roll and twist.

“I knew I picked right when I decided you were mine. My final girl,” he teases. “And you just keep proving me right, over and over.” He reaches out to gently ghost his fingers over my hips. “Thought I told you to take your clothes off.”

“Well I would, if you would stop touching me for half a second,” I snap back, hating that even this is playing into his fantasies.

He doesn’t deign to reply this time. But he does step away, going to the nightstand and opening the top drawer to rummage around in it.

But I still hesitate, despite the bravado of my words about him just needing to stop touching me.

“You’d better be naked by the time I turn around, sweetheart.” His voice drifts softly through the dimly lit room, and I force myself to strip completely, my arms coming up to wrap around my chest, though he’s seen and touched it all before.

But that doesn’t matter.

I shift uncomfortably where I stand, thighs pressed together as tightly as I can manage and trying not to shiver. It isn’t cold in here, especially with the window closed, but gooseflesh still ripples over my skin, and I have to steel myself against the shakes that travel up my spine.

When Kayde turns, I can’t see what he’s holding. My eyes dip to his waist, trying to figure out what I’m seeing, but he’s smart enough to obscure the items with his body as he looks me over. “Oh, we’ve got to get you past this, don’t we?” he murmurs, setting whatever it is back down and reaching out to trail his fingers down my throat, to where my arms are clenched tight. “I’ve seen you, gorgeous. You don’t need to hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I snap, fear making my voice higher than I want it to be. “Especially not from you.”

“Then drop your arms,” Kayde is quick to reply, his tone a challenge. “If you’re not afraid of me, if you aren’t hiding from me…” He tugs on my wrist. “Or do you need a little help?”

I have no idea what he means by that, unless he’s just going to pry my arms away from my body. But I give him what has to be a confusion filled look that only fuels the wolfish grin crossing his lips. “Yeah, that’s all right, Summer.” I hate how he’s crooning to me. I hate that it does something to my stomach that it really shouldn’t.

“I’ll always help my favorite, self-destructive sweetheart.” He guides me back to the bed, pushing me to sit down, and at his urging I end up near the head of the bed, sitting just under his pillows. “Lie down for me, okay?” he murmurs, and waits for me to do that, though I’m sure I look every bit as uncomfortable as I feel.

“Give me your hands.” I have to remind myself, over and over, that it’s not a request. That I don’t have a choice, even though he makes it seem like I do. My arms tremble, and I clench my hands into fist in a sad attempt of hiding it, before reaching up to him to give him my hands.

And that’s the moment I see the handcuffs. He’s too fast for me to move away completely, and before I can do more than gasp, my wrists are cuffed to the headboard, taking advantage of the vertical slats that run along it and the wall.

“Kayde—” I can’t help it. I jerk against them, yanking my arms down towards my face, to no avail. “Kayde, I can’t?—”

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs. “You can do it for me, baby. Be good for me, just a little. Just enough we don’t wake anyone up, hmm? Unless you absolutely need me to stop?—”

“No!” I hiss, too loudly. “No, I’m not—” But I still jerk on the cuffs like a deer caught in a trap. It’s quieter this time, as my arms shake and my wrists twist in the metal cuffs.

“Then take your time,” Kayde invites. “You can fight it out a little; figure out they’re not going to hurt you and that you can’t get away.” He turns away to go back to the drawer, leaving my full attention on the cuffs and how much give they allow me.

It’s not until the bed dips near my thighs that I look back at him, and more importantly, to what he’s playing with in his hands.

The metal from the wicked-looking hunting knife is an almost ghostly shade of grey, and glints in the low light. But he doesn’t seem to notice. Not when his eyes are on me, and my renewed struggle.

“N-no,” I whisper, trying so fucking hard not to scream. “Kayde you said—I thought?—”

“Sweet girl, I’d like to remind you that you didn’t give me any limits on what I could or couldn’t do to you,” the blond points out, putting down the knife just long enough to sweep his hair into a bun to get it out of his eyes. ”Remember that? Remember how you told me that you’d do anything for me, in order to save these kids?”

His fingers grip my ankle, massaging it in a way that would actually be soothing if it wasn’t this situation. “Are we regretting that now?” I hate how his voice sounds. How empathetic and perfect he manages to be. “Do you think, maybe, they’re not worth it?”

I force myself to suck in deep breaths, shaking my head to deny his words. His grip on my ankle tightens, and all I allow myself is a soft whimper as he pulls my leg straight, then moves to kneel between my thighs in the space he’s created.

“They’re always worth it,” I tell him, keeping my eyes shut hard. If he’s going to kill me here, like this, then I’m going to try to deprive him of some of my fear. Though the fact that I’m shaking so hard the handcuffs rattle against the headboard probably isn’t helping my cause.

“Are they?” His voice is close to my face, and yet I still refuse to open my eyes. “Aren’t you going to look at me, sweetheart?”

“If you’re giving me a choice, then absolutely not.”

“Summer, you always have a choice.” His voice is so soft, it feels like we’re trading secrets. “Every single time…every single move I make, you have a choice of whether you let me.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what, exactly?” He knows what he’s doing. And he knows what I mean; I hear it in his voice.

Slowly I crack my eyes open, just enough to stare up at him through my lashes. “Pretending you were ever giving me a choice.”

His predatory grin is quick to appear, and I see him try to swallow it back, only to fail once, then twice. Finally he shrugs, and seems to embrace it, leaning over me with one hand holding himself up. “If you want,” he agrees at last. “If that will make you feel better.”

“Like I said.” My reckless smile isn’t as authentic as his. “The only thing that’ll make me feel better is?—”

“To kill me, right?” he cuts me off enthusiastically, and his other hand appears, bringing the knife close to my face. “You want to take this from me, Summer?” I shy away from him, but he follows me, until he can stroke the flat of the blade along my cheek.

The metal is cold, and I can’t help the soft, defeated whimper that bubbles out of my throat. He’s going to kill me here, in his cabin, in the middle of the second to last camp session for preteens.

He’s going to slit my throat and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.

“Hey. Don’t go away on me. Stay with me, baby.” He turns the knife until the edge is stroking along my cheek. “Don’t want you spacing out, so just breathe, Summer.” He sucks in a slow, deep breath and lets it out, tapping my cheek with the knife before doing it again.

With a flinch I mirror him. My eyes are locked on Kayde’s as we both pull in deep breath after deep breath, letting them out after a few seconds of holding the air in our lungs.

I hate that it works enough that I’m no longer spacing out.

I hate that he’s good at this.

“There you go. Just breathe for me, okay? In…” He waits for me to take a breath, then says, “And let it out. Slow it down, baby. You’re okay.”

“I hate you,” I whisper, unable not to.

“I know,” he assures me. “Like I said before, that’s what makes this so much fun.” But he glances to the side when he says it, his eyes narrowing just slightly, almost unnoticeably, like something he’s said bothers him.

But I can’t focus on that when he drags the knife along my face, stroking it over my bottom lip and bringing a shiver to my body once again.

“Open your mouth for me.” It’s absolutely not a suggestion—nothing with Kayde ever is—but it still takes me a few tries before I manage to part my lips and unclench my teeth, though that feels like torture in itself.

“Don’t bite down.” There’s a note of warning in his voice, and he sits back enough that he can slip his other hand under my jaw, as if to hold my mouth open. “All you’ll do is cut yourself, Summer. Do you understand me?”

My jerky nod must be enough for him, because he murmurs something that might absolutely be, good girl, before the knife is back to stroking against my bottom lip.

“Stick out your tongue.”

The trembling in my arms increases, and my cheeks feel warm as I do what he’s said. I don’t want to die like this, with a knife between my teeth and Kayde between my thighs, but I also can’t risk saying no to them.

Maybe if he kills me, he’ll still keep his word.

Unfortunately, I can’t exactly ask. The knife moves when I stick my tongue out, and I remain as still as possible when I feel the blade against my tongue, flat side down.

“Lick it clean for me.”

My heart has never beat so fast in my life. I blink, warmth spilling down my face again, and as I finally manage to meet Kayde’s eyes, I run my tongue along the flat of the blade, being careful not to nick myself.

“It’s such a shame, isn’t it?” he asks, turning the knife so I can do the same to the other side. “That you’re so close to the tool that could get you out of this, but you have no chance at all of turning the tables here, sweetheart.” He slides the knife deeper between my lips, ignoring my soft whimper as he traces the curves of my teeth while I remain absolutely still.

I don’t even swallow, though I can feel the saliva building under my tongue.

“Are you going to start drooling for me?” Kayde teases. “All because of a knife?” I hate the feel of it against my teeth, and I shudder when the tip catches lightly against my gum, reminding myself to stay still.

“You’re already crying for me, after all. Might as well let yourself be a complete mess.”

I’m crying?

My hands jerk in the cuffs as I momentarily forget I can’t move them, but some confusion in my eyes must be obvious, because Kayde’s other hand leaves my jaw slowly, moving to the side of my face where the rush of heat against my skin had been obvious moments ago.

“You didn’t know, baby? You didn’t know you were crying for me?” He swipes his thumb through the wetness, and brings it up to show me the glistening of my tears in the light. “It’s so fucking hot, Summer. I love it when you cry for me. You know how much I want to make a fucking mess out of you?”

I whimper, fingers clenched hard against my palms, and he shoots me an apologetic grin. “Not a murdered mess,” he tells me, like that’s a comfort. “Why would I kill you? That would be like throwing out my favorite toy that I’m always playing with. No, that would be such a waste when you’re so fun to play with like this. But maybe…” The knife leaves my mouth, and I click my teeth closed seconds later, hoping to God he’s done.

But of course, I can never be that lucky.

He drags the knife down my chin, twisting it until I can feel it pressed to the place my pulse flutters under my skin.

“I think you’d look good in a little bit of red. I’ll try not to slip, Summer, I really will. But…” He sucks air through his teeth, dragging the blade down further until he’s sitting fully back on his heels. “It’s really hard, you know? You have to be so still for me so I don’t mess up and nick you. But even if I do, you’ll be so quiet for me, right sweetheart?” His eyes dart to the shared wall with his campers, then back to me.

“Right?”

I nod quickly, teeth still locked together. It’s not just the fear of the knife on my tongue again. No, it’s the fear of making noise that will alert someone, and send all of this crashing down in the worst way possible.

I can’t let him hurt anyone.

But the knife causes me to shiver, especially when he traces my collarbones and slides the tip of it along the swell of my breasts.

“If I did…slip,” he goes on, still talking in that mesmerizing tone I can’t block out. “Where should that happen, do you think? Do you want something visible again that you have to hide? It won’t be anything deep. Nothing Liza has to take care of for you. I’ll take good care of anything like that, I promise. Should it be up here?” The knife is back to my sternum, where he traces the divots in my skin.

I close my eyes again, unable to watch him, and this time I’m aware when the tears slide down my temples.

“No, you’re right baby. We don’t want someone asking questions. Darcy would sniff it out if she could see it. What about here?” The knife disappears, only to reappear as he circles my nipple with the edge, pulling a desperate sound from my lips. “What do you think? Would that be too uncomfortable? I promise I’ll take such good care of any slip ups. You wouldn’t mind one, right? As long as I took care of it for you? Just a little bit of blood, a little bit of pain…” He lets the tip dig into my flesh, then drags it down my stomach, leaving a searing path in its wake. When I can’t help but squirm, the knife is snatched away, and a low sound of warning grates in his throat.

“Don’t you move, Summer,” Kayde warns. “I don’t want to cut you unless it’s deliberate.” I hear him shift again, but I’m still too afraid to look at him, even when he lifts my knee until my foot is pressed flat to the bed. His lips find the inside of my knee, and he skims his mouth lightly over my skin.

“What about here? That would be a little less sensitive…” The knife tip comes up to run over my skin, just above where his mouth had teased my skin. “Well, maybe.” The confession prompts him to drag it further up my inner thigh, and as he teases it along the incredibly sensitive skin, I can’t help the sound that leaves me, though it’s still quieter than it could be.

Still, feeling the knife so close to my center does cause my eyes to snap open, and I stare at him with desperation burning my face. “Please don’t,” I beg him, my eyes finding his. “Please, Kayde, please.”

“Please what?” he whispers, the knife trailing ever closer. “Please…what, Summer?”

“Please don’t do this.” I can’t help that I’m crying, and I can’t help the way my hands jerk at the cuffs every few seconds, my arms twisting. “I don’t want?—”

“I know what you want, baby. You want to stab me. You want to be a brat. Where’s that energy now, I wonder?” He lifts the blade to tap it against his own lip. “It’s not because of this, is it? Just my little knife here against your skin?”

I can’t answer. I don’t answer, because it’s clear he’s taunting me and I can’t think of a single answer that won’t make this worse. But I do give another soft, anguished noise when the knife is back, the tip sliding against my folds and causing me to freeze.

Every muscle in my body goes so still that I ache, muscles knotted, and I swear I don’t even breathe as I look at his face, at his concentration while he drags the blade up and down, then repeats it.

“You’re so good at following directions,” he murmurs at last, eyes flicking up to mine for a few seconds before going back to what he’s doing. “So good at being so still for me. My good fucking girl. Do you want me to fuck you?” The shift in topic nearly gives me whiplash, and my brain is working at such a low capacity all I can do is stare at him.

“If not, that’s okay. I like this game too. We can keep playing, though my hand might get tired. I really might slip and…” He shrugs. “We never did decide on a place for that to happen, did we?”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Kayde?—”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Summer?”

I’m not spaced out enough to not understand what he wants. Worse, the reality of this game sinks into my chest like a stone thrown out onto a lake. Has this been what he wants all along? To present me with the choice of whether I’ll beg him to fuck me?

There’s no real choice involved, he knows that. I wish more than anything I was brave enough to deny him, to shrug this off and tell him to do what he wants. The words even bubble up my throat tantalizingly, tingeing my mouth with the copper of blood.

Do what you want, is what I want to say. I want to shrug, to look away, and just sigh, like this is the most boring thing in the world.

But I can’t. He fucking knows I can’t, and the pleased look on his face tells me he probably has a pretty good idea of where my thoughts are heading. One day, in another life, I hope some higher power sees fit to reincarnate Kayde as a beetle and me as an elephant so I can stomp him out of existence.

My heart flutters, my throat working convulsively to swallow the response that burns and claws its way up my throat. Hands shifting in the cuffs, I close my eyes hard and whisper, “Yes,” with as much conviction as I can.

But of course it isn’t enough.

“Yes, what?” Kayde purrs, the knife still tracing along my hips. “Be more specific?—”

“I want you to fuck me.” The words are numb on my lips, and my skin tingles.

“You’re not very convincing.” He strokes the knife along my folds this time, and I feel the well of tears against my eyelids, the burn of saline that begs to fall and stain my skin in a desperate attempt to get him to feel bad for what he’s doing. To get him to stop. “I think you’d rather me do this?—”

“Please, Kayde.” I open my eyes, blinking away the tears that cascade down the sides of my face. “Please, I need you to fuck me.” It’s so hard to let my thighs fall to the sides from where they’ve been in the air, shaking, as I wish more than anything I can press them together and keep him out. “I wanted—” I swallow hard, fixing my gaze on his. “I thought about it when we first met, you know?” Though I hadn’t. Not really.

But I can be convincing.

“You were so fucking pretty, and I was so goddamn high. I thought maybe we’d get lost in the woods and you’d pin me to a tree and fuck me. Thought you’d be really good at it, and imagined what you’d sound like.” My words never falter, and his grin grows slowly until he looks completely psychotic. Which, in my opinion, is exactly what he is.

“You know, my favorite thing about you is how much you surprise me,” Kayde admits, once more sitting back on his heels. Approval glitters in his gaze, and when he reaches out to stroke up my thigh, it’s with his fingers instead of a blade. I relax, just a touch, and I swear I see his eyes flick up to my face for a singular moment before he goes back to pressing my thighs wider, his hands warm on my skin.

“Who taught you to lie like that, hmm?” he purrs. “Who taught you to be that convincing when we both know you’re just so scared?” His fingers drift further up my thighs, pressing between them until he’s spreading me with one hand and pressing the other flat against my hip.

“Not a lie,” I protest through gritted teeth, even though we both know it isn’t true. “Want you?—”

“Sure, baby. I’m just so sure you do. Crying like that and shaking because you thought I was going to cut you, and you actually want to convince me you’ve wanted this?” I don’t need to meet his eyes to know he’s giving me the look that means he sees right through me.

“If you’re complaining about my lack of excitement”—I bite down on my lower lip when I feel his thumb brush over my clit—“then I invite you to start the night over but lose the knife.”

“Nah, I’m not complaining about anything,” Kayde assures me. “Sweetheart, I have all the time in the world to convince you to enjoy this. And your reactions to a bit of knife play were perfect. Gorgeous.” He leans over me, nose brushing mine. My eyes flick up to his, and I search his face as he holds himself still over me.

“Perfect, Summer,” he whispers, kissing me softly before I can say a word. And yet again, his words and actions bring that squirming, confused feeling back to the surface, causing me to press my thighs together around his hand for completely different reasons than fear.

But he’s just so good at this. I can admit that. I can admit that while I hate him, and I really would like to see him topple off of a five story cliff, he’s gorgeous as fuck and apparently blessed by the sex gods to be some kind of prophet amongst mortals.

Which sucks for me, quite frankly.

“But we wouldn’t be here if you weren’t everything and more.” He’s quick to sit back again, and while a big part of my brain whispers that he doesn’t actually care about me or how I feel, that he just wants to fuck me for himself, I can’t help the confused tilt of my head when he moves back enough to kneel between my thighs, his lips brushing over my left hip in an almost-kiss.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckles, even without meeting my gaze. “If you’re not enjoying it when I fuck you, if I can’t make you come apart on my cock, then what’s the point?” His lips skim my skin, moving closer and closer to the apex of my thighs.

My heart pounds, and now I can’t help but remember every little thing from the showers.

Like how good his mouth had felt.

And how hard he’d made me come.

Tonight is just as much of a good thing as it had been last night. Physically, at least. He licks over me, his tongue finding and stroking over my clit before dipping back down again. Within a minute he’s tasting every bit of me he can reach, his tongue plunging into my body and his eyes closed like he really, genuinely enjoys this.

For my part, I can’t keep still. I writhe and squirm in his grip and the cuffs, unable to tear my hands free to grip his hair like I had last night. It makes me feel more vulnerable than in the showers, especially when it’s so easy for him to hold my hips down and keep me mostly still.

“Kayde…” I squeak out his name when the fear ebbs, warmth flooding me as he adds two fingers alongside his tongue.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” my psychopath purrs, pressing a kiss against my inner thigh. His fingers continue, unwavering as he thrusts them in and out of me.

“I just—” God, was I really just calling his name for the hell of it? That’s embarrassing as hell. “Never mind, I just—” My words aren’t getting any better, and I feel heat crawling up my neck to stain my face for him to see my embarrassment.

“That’s okay. You’re being so good for me, aren’t you Summer?” He adds another finger, scissoring them and drawing a whine from my lips. “Good girl. So good at taking whatever I want to give you. Aren’t you just the most perfect little thing?” His words make my head spin, and if I could change any detail about this, it would be for him to stop talking.

I can’t handle the pleasure and what his words do to my squirming insides.

His tongue flicks over my clit once, then again, before his teeth graze along the sensitive bud instead. It pulls noise after noise from my open mouth, though I somehow remember there are kids in the next room and I refuse to wake them up and let them get hurt.

“Do you think you can be quiet for me?” he asks, sitting up once more with his fingers still thrusting lazily into me. “You really can’t be loud here, unfortunately. As much as I want you to scream, that might be bad.” He glances at the shared wall, then back down at me.

“I know I have to be quiet.” I say the words quickly, eyes on his as my hips rise to meet his fingers and my hands twist in the cuffs.

“Can you?”

I definitely don’t know how to tell him I’m not sure. It’s embarrassing as hell, for one. And I don’t need him doing something drastic like cutting out my fucking tongue.

But my silence must be answer enough. Kayde moves, standing up and leaving me alone on the bed before he’s rummaging around in his nightstand again. The same one he’d gotten the handcuffs and knife out of.

“Please tell me you don’t have a drawer full of BDSM gear at a kid’s summer camp,” I can’t help but hiss at him.

A smile flickers on his lips, and he doesn’t look at me. He only murmurs, “Okay, I won’t.” Then lifts up a leather strap attached to?—

My brain slams to a halt and I shake my head. “I changed my mind. I can stay quiet.”

“Mhmm.” He kneels on the bed between my thighs again, holding the gag in one hand and sliding his other hand up my thigh. “Of course you can.”

“You’re not putting that in my mouth,” I tell him sharply, glaring at the pink silicone bone that makes up the other part of the gag.

“Pretty sure I am,” he argues with me sweetly. “But you can bite down as hard as you want. You won’t break it.”

“I’m gonna break you,” I snap automatically, unable to keep my mouth shut as my heart flutters fearfully in my chest.

He only rolls his eyes at that, before pinning me with the incredulous, disbelieving look of his that I hate. “Say that again when you aren’t handcuffed to the bed and wet as hell from my tongue and fingers,” Kayde invites, leaning up with the gag in one hand. “Open up, Summer. Don’t make me get the knife.”

That does it. The threat knocks the bravado right out of my chest, and I sag against the mattress, fingers flexing. “You…” I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t know how I can argue, especially when he taps my cheek gently, obviously waiting.

“Just for a little while,” he promises, sliding the pink silicone dog bone between my lips and deftly buckling the gag behind my head. The bone slides between my teeth, and when I bite down experimentally, it has just enough give that I don’t feel like I’m being choked.

“Just so you don’t disturb anyone. How are you feeling, by the way?”

My glare doesn’t exactly cause him to spontaneously combust, but it has to be a near thing. Kayde smiles sweetly, stroking his fingers down my thigh. “I know you think that’s a threat, but your little looks are kind of doing it for me,” he admits, pushing my knee up so he can pull my leg up over his shoulder. Sometime in the past minute or two, he’s discarded his shorts, leaving him completely naked between my knees.

And he’s just as gorgeous to look at as ever. His cock is a little intimidating, if I’m being honest with myself, though I can’t help but dart looks down to where it curves against his stomach, tip already glistening.

“What? You thought I did all of that just for you?” he teases, like I’ve actually said something. “No, baby. I get a lot out of playing with you. But I’ll admit, it’s been really hard today not to just drag you into the woods and do this.”

He moves forward just enough that with a fist around the base of his cock, he can drag it through my wetness, never actually entering me while teasing me with the possibility.

“But I didn’t want it to just be quick and over with just like that. I wanted to take my time. I always find myself wanting to take my time with you.” He repeats the drag against my body again and again, pulling a gasp from behind my gag when he pushes into me, just a little, before withdrawing and repeating his teasing.

“You’re going to be so tight for me, aren’t you sweetheart?” he hums, apparently content to carry on a one sided conversation. “I know you can’t be a virgin, but sometimes I wonder…you’re just so easy to tease and get worked up. Like no one’s ever played with you before.”

Well, no one’s certainly ever done this before. I’m not a virgin; he’s right about that. Though my experiences with sex can be counted on one hand and aren’t exactly my most exciting memories. They were mostly just…boring. Half-drunken hookups at a frat house. A boy from high school who had no idea what he was doing.

Never anything like this.

My breath catches when he pushes a bit deeper, and I know he’s staring intently at my face, wanting a reaction, when instead of pulling out, he just slides deeper into me. His length is a dull, aching stretch between my thighs.

“I fucking knew it,” he hisses, and gives a quick, sharp thrust that draws a soft yelp from me and leaves him flush against my body, as deep as he can possibly go. “You’re so tight. Summer, baby, it really feels like you haven’t had anyone fuck you in forever. Were you waiting for me?” His tone is teasing, and he’s just so in control as he pulls back—until he’s just barely still inside of me—before slamming into my body hard enough that my hands rattle against the headboard.

I bite down hard on the gag, trying my very best not to make a noise. I plead with my vocal chords to just turn off for a while, even as my soft whimpers meet my ears when he does it again. This time, instead of staying still, he continues to fuck me with smaller, less punishing thrusts as one of his hands grips my hip and the other presses flat against my stomach.

“You were so worth waiting a couple nights to do this,” Kayde hisses through clenched teeth, reaching up to shove loose curls out of his face. I look at him from under my lashes, watching the way he fucks into me effortlessly. Like it’s the most natural, easiest activity in the world.

And I try not to focus on how good it feels. Especially when he shifts enough that he’s rubbing over the spot inside of me that really makes me want to scream. He shouldn’t be so good at hitting it exactly right. He shouldn’t be so good at any of this.

But within minutes he has me throwing my head back against the pillows and biting down hard on the stupid pink bone in order not to make any noise. It doesn’t help that he’s still talking to me, murmuring filthy compliments and promises that cause my blood to race through my veins.

When his fingers find my clit, I nearly scream anyway, and my hips jerk off of the bed just as he presses me back down harshly.

“No, sweetheart. You’re perfect where you are. Right there, full of my cock. You know how pretty you look all fucked out like this? You’re about to cry again.” I don’t want him to be right, but I can feel it too. The heat stinging at my eyes that I wish I could wipe away with my bound hands.

Instead, I can only whine in protest, my hands twisting in the cuffs over my head. When Kayde leans over, I expect him to wipe the tears away. Instead, I feel the warm wetness of his tongue at the sides of my screwed-shut eyes as he laps at the tears, his movements soft and almost affectionate.

Almost, anyway. Kayde isn’t affectionate.

Another whimper drags up from my lips as Kayde picks up his movements again, and it takes everything in me to not make more noise than the absolute minimum.

“Oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?” Kayde murmurs, not even having the decency to sound out of breath while I gasp around a pink silicone dog bone. “Come for me, baby. I know you want to. Just be quiet, okay? Bite down and try not to make a lot of noise.”

For some reason, it’s the talking that does it. His crooning against my ear, and the whispered sweetheart that follows the rest of his words. My body stiffens, and a heel hooks against his shoulder to pull him closer to me as I come, my eyes shut hard.

Somehow, I don’t scream. Even as he drags out my orgasm by fucking me through it, I keep my teeth clamped hard on the stupid gag and refuse to do more than whimper, no matter how good it feels. His fingers on my clit drive the pleasure back up for longer than it should, and when I feel wetness at the corner of my mouth, I barely have the wherewithal to feel ashamed.

“Good girl, perfect Summer,” Kayde continues, his movements becoming disordered and erratic. I can feel the tremble in his hand on my thigh, and the way he’s holding himself back. “You’re taking birth control, right?” he asks, and before I can even think of why he’s asking, I find myself nodding automatically.

Wait—My brain screams the word, telling me I should probably stop to question that. I let out a whine, trying to form a question that I can’t manage around the gag. Especially with spit running down the side of my face.

“What’s wrong?” Kayde purrs, darting close and lapping at the trails of saliva running from my forcibly parted lips. “Told you before, didn’t I? Gonna wreck you, Summer. I’m going to fill up this pretty cunt over and over until I’m satisfied. Sweetheart. Gorgeous girl.” The praises drop from his lips like rain, and at last I close my eyes once more, knowing I can’t stop him from this.

And maybe, deep down, some part of me doesn’t want him to stop. I can still admit that he’s good at this, better than anyone has any right to be, while hating him and plotting a grim demise for the serial killer who wants to kill the kids at Camp Crestview.

But I can also admit to myself, in the silence of my own head, how fucking good this feels. Even though that thought twists in my stomach like something vile.

I’m so fucked up for this that there’s no excuse for my behavior.

That thought, the guilt and shame that rushes through me, causes another rush of tears to cascade down my cheeks, though Kayde licks that up too. He groans at the taste, and finally his hips slam into mine and he shudders, going still except for a few small movements of his hips. My whines turn to whimpers, and I turn my face into Kayde’s as my head swims.

He just fucking grins. I can see it, even through the tears, and when he reaches up to stroke along my face, I flinch away from him slightly.

“Such a good girl,” he sighs, content. “Just like I knew you would be. So sweet when I have something in your mouth, aren’t you? So willing when I have your wrists cuffed.” Finally he moves, getting to his knees and sitting back before pressing my leg back to the bed. He strokes along my thighs, eyes never leaving my face as he just touches me, like it should be a comfort.

I finally realize that I’m shaking. My whole body trembles under him, and yet Kayde just wordlessly runs his fingers up and down my thighs. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, reaching out to unbuckle the gag. I suck in a breath, trying my best to calm down enough that I stop shaking.

But no matter how hard I try, I don’t succeed.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I grit out between clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut again.

Kayde chuckles and shifts over me until he can undo the cuffs from my wrists. My arms drop to the bed instantly, hands curling in the pillow over my head. “Well, that’s a bit of a lie. You’re terrified of me,” he disagrees sweetly. “Give me your hands, sweetheart.”

I don’t. It doesn’t even occur to me I should be listening to him, as per our game. Our stupid agreement that keeps the kids safe. But instead, my muddled brain only lets me stare up at him, half in a daze, until it occurs to me the edible is kicking in faster than I would like it too. “Shoot,” I mutter, blinking at him to keep Kayde in focus. “This is unexpected.”

“You’re high,” Kayde observes, picking up my hands and running his fingers over my wrists. He lays them back down across my chest, seemingly satisfied, before getting to his feet and going to the nightstand once again. This time he drops everything back into it, before turning back around and leaning over me with a soft, small washrag.

“I’m so high,” I agree, letting him move my knee and jumping when the cloth rubs over my inner thighs. “Fuck, this is a bad time. I need to go back. Unless you want?—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Kayde interrupts, though it isn’t threatening, exactly. It’s almost possessive. Almost affectionate. But as I’d established in my brain a few minutes ago, Kayde and affectionate do not go together.

“Then what am I doing, oh, ax murderer of my nightmares?” I sigh, finding it hard to keep my eyes open with the mix of THC and post-orgasm sleepiness.

Kayde doesn’t answer. He moves around the room for a minute or so, and when the lights turn off, I blink up at the dark ceiling. Seconds later, the bed dips, and Kayde gently pushes me onto my side, tugging the blankets out from under me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to sit up and instead getting tugged back down. Kayde’s arm goes over me, and he drags me back to him under the blankets until my back is flush against his body.

“What does it feel like?” Is his easy response, and my fingers clench in the sheets under us. He’s so warm, like a radiator at my back, and the weight of the blankets feels more relevant than they should.

“Feels confusing,” I whisper, eyes on the wall. My fingers flex, and it really is a good thing I’m high, I suppose, so that I don’t do something stupid like try to kill him with a pillow.

“Good.” Kayde nuzzles my ear. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.” His fingers trace over my arm, and as I drift between sleep and just being spaced out, he doesn’t say anything.

Finally, a question bubbles to my lips, unbidden, and even my clenched teeth can keep the question at bay. It isn’t a good question to ask. Not of Kayde, anyway.

But at this point, when I have no idea how long it’s been or if Kayde is even still awake, I can’t stop myself.

“Would you have really done it?” The words come out softly, barely more than a whisper.

I feel the ghost of Kayde’s lips against my shoulder, and he pulls me more snugly against him with a sigh. “Would I really have done what, sweetheart?”

“Killed the kids here.”

He nips at my shoulder blade, a soft purr on his lips. “Yeah,” he answers, no sign of hesitation in the word. “Yeah, Summer. I would’ve killed them all, except for you.” He rolls his hips against mine, though it feels like it’s just a tease. “Every single one except you. You’re my final girl. You’re too good for what I was going to do to all the others.”

The soft whimper that leaves my throat is soft in the darkness, but he still shushes me softly, mouth on my shoulder. “Go to sleep,” he says finally, forehead pressed against my skin. “You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“Can’t sleep here,” I murmur, though my eyelids are heavy and I swear I can already feel myself slipping away. “Can’t sleep with you.”

His chuckle is dark and grating, and his grip becomes just a little bit more punishing as Kayde says, sweetly, “Well I’m not giving you much of a choice, Summer. And you need to sleep if you’re going to spend all of tomorrow planning my death and telling yourself you should’ve gotten up and walked away.”

He’s right. He’s more than right, and I want to say something scathing, something sharp. But the words fade every time they shape themselves in my head. So with an aggravated sigh, I close my eyes and stop trying, determined not to fall asleep.

No matter how much my body wants to do otherwise.