Chapter 19
“Come on, Summer. I’d really like you to wake up for me.” The low, concerned voice is strange and unfamiliar, and for a moment I’m sure I’ve died and gone…somewhere probably not Heaven.
But I groan in response, especially at the firm tapping against my cheek. I’m definitely dead, I think, as consciousness seeps into me slowly. Because when I was alive, I’d been tied to two wooden poles in the boathouse. Now, however, I feel like I might be in bed.
Unless I’ve spontaneously managed to teleport, that definitely can’t be true.
“There you are, baby.” The rasp of Kayde’s voice is soft in my ears, and I murmur something unintelligible that I doubt was even words in the first place. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Slowly, I drag my head from side to side, eyes still firmly closed. I’m met with a surprised huff that might be a chuckle, if I really look into it. “Okay, well, sorry to disappoint you, but I really need you to open your eyes for me.”
“What will you give me?” I slur, flexing my sore wrists that are laying on my stomach. Feeling is slowly coming back to me, and if I were to say the ache in my body isn’t first and foremost pleasurable, I’d be lying. “If I open them.”
“Well, I’ve already untied you and carried you to your cabin without anyone thinking I’m hauling around your corpse,” Kayde replies, bemused. “Figured you’d want your bed more than the boathouse floor or mine. And I’m about to rub aloe on your wrists and ankles so they don’t burn. You sort of did a number on yourself. I didn’t realize how hard you were pulling. Next time, princess, I’ll get you fur-lined handcuffs.”
“Better be expensive fur.”
“I’ll consider it if you open your eyes.”
I do, halfway through his words. My bedside lamp is on, casting a dim orange glow throughout the small cabin. He doesn’t expect it so soon, I think, otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at me with something that seems like a mix of concern and adoration.
Kayde Lanecertainly doesn’t adore me. Not in a sense that I’d find normal, at least. The look fades as I stare up at him, and he strokes his thumb over my lip. “Hello there, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t use it, you know.” I don’t know why that’s the first thing that comes to mind, and confusion furrows his brow. “My safe word; I never asked you to stop.”
Yet again, that unreadable expression comes over him, though he never stops the movement of his thumb on my lip. “I know you didn’t,” he agrees at last. “I thought you would. You proved me wrong.”
As more of my brain reboots, I find myself less able to speak my mind. He terrifies me, I remind myself. As much as I don’t like to admit it or show it, he’s an ax murderer and I’m just a camp counselor trying to save everyone here like it’s my job.
Too bad I’m not getting paid for it.
Wordlessly, Kayde shifts, picking up my hand and uncapping a small bottle with a flick of his thumb. As I watch, he lets some of the thick gel drip onto the back of my hand, just above where my skin burns slightly from the ropes.
“I can do it,” I sigh, still feeling like I’d rather go back to sleep.
“I know,” Kayde assures me as he rubs it in on one wrist, then the other. I can’t really do anything but watch as he does the same to my ankles, and belatedly I realize that while I may not be wearing my bra or underwear, he’s dressed me back in my tee and shorts. My shoes are somewhere else, presumably on the floor, and I sink back to the bed when he’s done, unable to take my eyes off of his face.
“You could take the day off,” Kayde suggests, standing and dropping his backpack to the floor. “Are you feeling okay, though? You aren’t dizzy or short of breath? How’s your throat?”
“I don’t take days off,” I mumble, turning on my side so I can watch him walk around the small room, as if it’s his, and he’s busying himself with straightening up.
As if he feels awkward.
“I feel okay. I’m just tired, not dizzy. And my throat…” I swallow experimentally, and frown. “Well, you certainly choked me, huh?”
He only chuckles in response before returning to the bed and sinking down onto it. His hand comes back, stroking through my hair once, then tugging on it when I think he’s going to do it again. “Well, at least you’re better at being mouthy when I’ve fucked all the fear out of you, huh?”
I look away from him instead of giving him an answer, gaze sliding up to my ceiling instead of at his handsome face.
“Seriously, consider taking a sick day. Darcy did it for hiking yesterday. Surely you can cough a few times, put on a good act, and get out of whatever tomorrow is.”
“It’s just a free day for the kids, mostly,” I admit, knowing that if there was a day that I could take off, it would be tomorrow. Kins and Liza would take care of my girls, if needed. Especially since I’m sure they’ll want to spend it either at the lake or playing volleyball. They’re not crafters, unless it’s something questionable, so most of the time they’d rather relax, swim, and have a good time than do anything incredibly physical like hiking or more kayaking.
“Then call in sick.” Kayde’s words are firm, and he tugs again on my hair before getting to his feet. “You need the sleep, for one. And you look…” His eyes skim over me, from my face to my feet, then back up again. By the time he’s once more looking at my face, his eyes are dark, his lips parted slightly.
“I look what?” I ask, confused. If he’s going to insult me, he might as well do it.
But Kayde just shakes his head and heads for the door, his steps quicker than I expect before the door is closed between us, and I hear his retreating footfalls on the stairs outside.
Leaving me confused, concerned, and exhausted.
The banging on my door sends me skyrocketing out from under the blankets. So instead of just nearly falling out of bed, I crash to the floor with a groan and an undignified yelp of surprise.
“Summer?!” Kinsley’s panic is clear in her tone as she shoves the door open, holding it with her shoulder as she steps inside to look at me on the floor. “Please don’t tell me you fell out of bed…” she trails off, her eyes widening as she stares at me. “Holy shit.”
“No,” I groan, dragging myself back onto the mattress. “I don’t want to hear it. Especially if it’s about?—”
“Is that from Kayde?”
I’m so shocked by her question, I nearly fall out of bed again. But I manage to sit up by my pillows, legs curled under me, and look at her with enough functioning brain cells to see she’s carrying a tray laden with a plate, a mug, and a glass of what looks to be orange juice.
“Why in the world would you think it’s from Kayde?” I demand, though I know Kinsley is all too aware of the telltale signs of a lie from me. It’s not my fault my best friend can read me like an open book; I usually have no problem with it, but today it’s definitely a little inconvenient.
“Oh my god it is, isn’t it?” She sits down hard, setting the tray between us on the bed. It’s full of my favorites, including a pile of hash browns with a slice of American cheese melted on top, biscuits with gravy on the side, and two maple sausages.
My best friend really is perfect. Especially since she grabbed me a handful of creamer for the coffee on the tray and salt packets for the hash browns. All I want in life is a guy to do the things my best friend does for me when I’m not feeling well.
“Why do you think that? And God, Kins, you’re the best best friend ever for this,” I add gratefully, pulling the tray toward me after she swipes the cup of orange juice so I don’t spill it. “You literally got everything I could’ve asked for. And getting the cheese on the hash browns? I think I love you.”
“Well, umm.” Kins clears her throat, looking suddenly sheepish. “I’d love to take credit for this…” she trails off, watching as I stuff a wad of hash browns into my mouth. “But I’m just the one to deliver it. I didn’t, uh, put it together for you.”
“Who did?” I mumble around the cheesy, salty hash browns that are still warm from the kitchen. Surely Liza would’ve given me something healthier, and I doubt she knows my preferences.
“It was Kayde.”
In my surprise, I nearly choke on my hash browns. My eyes water, and I swallow quickly to avoid a catastrophe. “How the hell does Kayde know what I eat in the mornings?” I demand, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
But she’s shaking her head before I finish, an apologetic smile still in place. “No, and I don’t know. He came up to Liza and me with all of this and said you were exhausted. Said you were taking the day off in case I didn’t know. Which, I told him I did thanks to your five am text. And he asked if I’d bring this to you before it got cold.”
All I can do with that information is stare at her, eyes wide and unblinking. Well, and take back my little prayer to find a boyfriend to do this for me.
Because Kayde is not boyfriend material.
Not whatsoever.
Hello, God? I think, casting my eyes upward and feeling rather dramatic even in my own head. Me again. I take it back. I’ll make my own breakfast.
Though the thought somehow makes me feel…unpleasant. Like I’m fighting off some stupid but undeniable fact regarding this whole thing.
But maybe I’m just too much of a chicken to really work out and accept what that thought is.
“So…” Kins gestures to her own neck, and I stare at her balefully before showing her my shoulders as well. It brings a small gasp from her I can’t help but enjoy, and certainly not because I’m preening with Kayde’s marks on my body. “That must’ve hurt though, right? Summer, he broke skin!”
“Yeah, hope he doesn’t have rabies,” I mumble around the half of biscuit I jammed between my teeth. “That would suck for me.” I don’t mention that it could be possible, considering how rabid Kayde is.
“Darcy is going to end you—wait. No, I don’t want to talk about Darcy. Will you tell me about it? Was it good, at least? Shit, Summer, I didn’t think you were into”—she gestures wildly at my neck—“whatever that is. Those are literal teeth marks in you!”
“Yes, they are,” I agree blandly, dunking my remaining biscuit in gravy. Somehow, I hadn’t known until now just how hungry I am. But now that I’ve started eating, I can’t stop. I’m ravenous after last night, like my body had used up all of its reserves while surviving Kayde.
Or surviving the most mind blowing orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my twenty-ish years on this earth.
“Hold up.” She reaches out, grabbing onto my arm and dragging it closer to survey the fading red mark on my wrist. “What the hell is this?”
I don’t answer. I don’t even know how to, truth be told. So I slam back another mouthful of biscuit and chase it with scalding coffee to distract myself, or at least die before I have to answer her questions.
When Kinsley shakes my arm, however, and refuses to let go, I realize I don’t have much of a choice. It’s either tell her or learn how to meld with the walls and disappear until she forgets what she asked.
But she’s relentless and I finally sigh, waiting until my mouth is empty before drawing my arm back from her to gently touch the fading marks from the rope in the boathouse. “Apparently…Kayde’s into bondage,” I mumble, knowing that my face must be a mess of red and heat. “He, uh, tied me up last night?—”
Kinsley’s shocked gasp just draws a look from me, and I pin her with it until she stops squirming. “Oh, don’t even try to act like that. I know what you’re into. I’ve seen your browser history, and I’m sure that’s a big reason you’re into Liza. Does she tie you up too, Kins?”
Suddenly my best friend is the one who’s looking embarrassed. She stares down at my bed, her eyes wide and face as red as mine. “Did he hurt you?” she asks finally, gesturing to my throat. “You’re not sick. But…if he hurt you, I can kill him for you. Free of charge or judgment. We’ll wrap him in a garbage bag and tie rocks around him before we throw him in the lake. Liza would help, you know. If he hurt you?—”
“I’m fine,” I promise her, a touch of amusement curling my lips upward into a small grin. “We got a little carried away.” I’m pretty sure he didn’t. Kayde did exactly what he wanted to me and I’d just been along for the ride. Though I guess, in retrospect, I’d been a very loud and willing passenger on that ride. “I’m just exhausted and haven’t been sleeping well.”
Kinsley’s eyes narrow suspiciously at that, and I can’t decide how I feel about having to lie to her about Kayde.
But I certainly can’t tell her the truth.
“Haven’t been sleeping well…as in, not just last night?” she asks, curiosity and accusation edging her tone. “I thought you didn’t like him!”
I don’t.
I think. No, I know I don’t like Kayde. Realistically, I can’t like him. It’d be the same as liking the robber breaking into my house, or the murderer bearing down on me with a knife. But when I try to summon the feelings of hatred and disgust, the ones I’d felt at least in the beginning, I find that particular well empty.
But obviously, it’s just because I’m exhausted. When I’ve gotten more sleep and I’m able to focus better, I’ll find the hate and the fear and the disgust that I have for him.
Not just these confusing, convoluted feelings that are too transient for me to even really focus on, let alone name. It’s just the breakfast doing this to me. That and the way he’d carried me here, stayed to make sure I was all right, and rubbed aloe into the rope burns on my wrists and ankles. Delicately, I stroke my fingers along the rope marks again, until Kinsley makes a sound like she’s doing her best impression of a gagging scoff.
“Summer, please. I’m going to leave if you keep doing that.”
My eyes snap up to hers, brows furrowed in confusion. “Doing what?” I ask, completely bewildered by her accusation. All I’m doing is sitting here.
“Whenever you think about him, you get this faraway look and start touching the marks on your wrists. Even I’m not that bad for Liza. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself before tomorrow, or whenever you plan on coming out of here. If you walk around looking at Kayde like that, everyone is going to notice. Darcy is going to notice.” She blinks, looking thoughtful. “Darcy doesn’t know, does she?”
Slowly, I shake my head, a frown touching my lips. “There’s nothing for her to know. It’s just sex. It’s just…” The words die on my lips, and I huff out a sigh. “It’s just something that’ll last this week, Kins. He’s not staying for the last summer camp session. He’ll be gone three days from now. Three days is all I need to put up with him for, and only two nights. He hasn’t managed to break me yet, and I sure as hell don’t intend to lose the game this close to its end.
Kayde Lane is not the scariest thing I’ve ever dealt with. That honor will always go to my father.
“And yeah,” I add, feeling a little cheeky. “I haven’t been sleeping well for nights. Plural.” I can’t help wiggling my brows at her, especially when her face crumples in disgust.
“Please, God, spare me the details,” she requests, holding her hands up in surrender. “I don’t want to hear anything about his dick, or I might vomit.” But she hesitates, eyes narrowing. “Okay, but for science’s sake. Does he have a nice dick?”
I nearly snort out my coffee at the change in direction, and I can feel my cheeks burning once more. “Yeah, Kins,” I cough at last, eyes watering from the coffee burning my throat. “Yes, he has a very nice dick. I can describe it for you?—”
“No! No, no, God. Please, I wouldn’t last. I’d vomit all over your breakfast. But…” She reaches out and grips my hand, carefully dodging the still-irritated line around my wrist. “You’d tell me, right? If something was wrong or if you don’t want this? I’m not afraid of him, Summer.”
She should be.The thought rings in my head, though I don’t say it out loud. How can I?
“Literally nothing about Kayde is scary except that he’s apparently a little feral and maybe gave you rabies last night. Seriously, that’s a little intense, don’t you think? You’re going to have to cover those with Bandaids, or the campers are going to think you got attacked by a werewolf.”
“It would give them something to talk about,” I point out wryly, but she doesn’t see fit to comment on that.
“If he’s hurting you, if he’s forcing you or coercing you or whatever, just tell me. I’ll kill him for you. Hell, I’ll go have the shotgun talk with him right now if you’re okay with it.”
“No, oh, please, no,” I say, holding up one hand in surrender. “Please, Dad, spare Kayde the shotgun threats. I don’t think he could take it.” Without retaliating, anyway.
Her look softens, and she nods a few times, obviously mulling it over. “Okay.” Kins gets to her feet, stretching, and looks around before snatching something off my dresser and tossing it to the bed. “But maybe put this on your wrists, okay? So you don’t look so fucked up when you come out of here. And don’t worry. I’ve got your cabin for as long as you need.”
“Thanks, Kins.” My smile is wide and genuine as she walks backwards toward the door. “You’re the best.”
Her only response is a dramatic salute, and my best friend leaves my cabin with much less fuss than she’d entered, leaving me alone with my breakfast that Kayde got together for me.
And I hadn”t even asked her to thank him for me.
Guilt stabs at my stomach as I grab the object she’d thrown my way, turning it over in my hands until I can see what it is.
Kayde’s small bottle of aloe rests in my palm, and it occurs to me he must’ve left it here on purpose, for me to use if I need it.
And that just makes the guilt cut a little deeper.