Chapter 21
The warm wash of heat from the large fire in front of me is nice. Without much of a breeze, there’s no dodging embers, and the kids are too buzzed in their little groups to plan for tomorrow’s talent show to really cause problems.
I just hope Redtail cabin’s ‘talent’ isn’t going to be murder, a murder plot, a seance, or something illegal. Knowing Melody, though, things can go either way. Keeping my eye on them from time to time, though, I’m relatively mollified they’re just going to put on some kind of play or magic act.
With my luck, they’ll try to saw a boy in half.
Across from me, on the opposite side of the fire, I can just see Kinsley and Liza sitting close on a small log, with their thighs pressed together casually. They don’t look inappropriate, or anything so dramatic. They look like best friends who are really…really close. Honestly, I doubt any of the kids realize they’re dating, since Liza is decent enough not to hang on Kinsley in front of them or leave any problematic marks like the ones scattered around my shoulders and throat.
The log I’m sitting on shifts, causing me to have to rebalance with my feet on the ground in front of me. Expecting Kayde, I look up into Darcy’s face, who’s staring at the fire with narrowed eyes instead of at me.
“I don’t get it,” she mutters, her face blank. “I really don’t get it, Summer.”
“The meaning of life?” I ask flatly, knowing what she wants. Hadn’t I predicted that she’d blame me for her inability to land Kayde? Even though, really, she’s the lucky one between us. Kayde’s a monster, and I doubt Darcy would’ve been able to stop him that night.
Hell, I doubt she would’ve even tried.
“You said you weren’t interested. You acted so uninterested in him, like he was beneath you. And now he’s, what, pulling you out of the water when you fall in?”
I hadn’t exactly fallen in, but she’s just trying to needle me into anger. I know her game, and it’s very different from Kayde’s. Plus, about ten times more pathetic. Instead, I just roll my shoulders in a shrug, eyes on the snapping twigs and embers that fizzle out in darkness of the sky above the large campfire.
“I saw you guys at dinner. How close he got to you? And he’s the reason for the stupid fucking Bandaids, right?”
My jaw aches with the desire to tell her she’s my safe word, because there’s nothing that’s more of a turnoff in this world than fucking Darcy. But I lock my teeth against the thought, still refusing to give her any bit of an answer. She’s not worth it, and I refuse to sit here and argue about Kayde.
“You’re pathetic.” Her voice is soft enough that no one else can hear. “Are you just competing with Kinsley? Or is this you staking some kind of claim on any new counselors? He doesn’t love you, you know. Or anything as special as that.” Her tone seethes, and I know my silence bothers her, given how she just keeps going on with her insults. “You’re not special, you know? So I don’t get what Kayde sees in you.”
Footsteps crunching in the grass catch my attention, so I turn my head just enough to see a pair of sneakers heading toward us, and I’ve seen Kayde’s shoes enough to know it’s him. But now I definitely don’t say anything, because if I’m going to have it out with Darcy, I really don’t want it to be about Kayde. Especially where he can hear me.
“If you say so.” I shrug, and from the corner of my eye, I can see her winding up again, with something that will probably hurt way more than anything before this moment. I can’t help it; my shoulders tense, as if I can brace myself against some physical effect of the blow that’s coming.
“That’s kind of mean, don’t you think?” Kayde’s voice is light and mostly friendly, though when Darcy jerks around to stare up at him, her mouth falls open at the sight.
“I—” Darcy jumps to her feet, nearly tripping, and even in the firelight she looks pale. “I wasn’t?—”
“Yeah, sure you weren’t. Except you sort of were, Darcy.” He steps closer, until they’re almost touching, and a thrill of alarm flickers up my spine. I wonder if I should get up until Kayde glances my way for half a second, at best, and his fingers flick at me dismissively.
He’s telling me not to, and I don’t have it in me to disobey. Especially when it comes to Darcy. I doubt he’s going to stab her or throw her into the fire. Not while people are looking, anyway.
“She’s…” Darcy looks down at me, her eyes anything but friendly. “I don’t get it,” she murmurs at last, closing that last bit of distance between them. “You liked me when you first got here. You were all over me that first day, Kayde. What the hell changed?”
Kayde’s smile is much less friendly now. There’s too much of the real him to be safe, and I fidget again where I sit. “What happened?” he taunts, grinning wolfishly so his white teeth are on display. It makes my neck ache in a way that’s not quite bad, and I fight not to run my fingers along the bandages. “Nothing happened, Darcy. You just mistook me being nice for whatever you wanted to see it as. I was never that interested. Especially after I met Summer.”
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
My stomach flips, trying to escape my body entirely, and my wide eyes are full of the shock I feel when Darcy glares down at me like I’ve done something wrong. Like I’m the one that’s said those words.
“Don’t look at her.” Kayde’s voice cracks like a whip, irritation whispering at the edges. It does the job, and Darcy’s attention rivets back to the blond. “She didn’t do anything, so don’t you fucking look at her and plan what you’ll do when I leave.” His voice is a soft croon, quiet enough that no one other than us can hear him. “This is all on you. I don’t want you because you’re not my type. You’re hurtful and petty. You’re immature.” His words are too soft to feel like real insults, though they make my stomach curl and writhe, even though I’m not the target of them.
I can’t imagine how Darcy feels.
“You’re a jerk,” she whispers, hands shaking as they ball at her sides. “You’re such a fucking jerk, Kayde?—”
“Don’t curse in front of the kids,” he cuts her off, chastising her like a disappointed parent. “Not in a voice they can hear. Come on, Darcy. This isn’t your first summer camp.” The look of disgust and dismissal he gives her is cold, and I can’t imagine being her right now.
But apparently, she can’t imagine taking more of it, either. Darcy hesitates, wavering, and she starts to look at me one more time before a low sound in Kayde’s throat stops her.
“Fine,” she hisses, stepping over the log and creating distance between them. Though she kicks it on the way, nearly knocking me off balance. I recover, just in time to see her storm away, running into a group of boys, eagerly running to Daniel with something like a pool noodle in their hands.
That can’t be a good sign for the talent show tomorrow.
Kayde’s sigh draws my attention back to him, and without hesitation, he drops onto the log beside me, taking over Darcy’s spot. He rubs his face with the heels of his palms, taking his time, before finally turning to look at me with a baleful, almost apologetic grin. “That was pretty dramatic, don’t you think?” he asks in that sweet, harmless voice of his.
“A little more than dramatic,” I point out, tapping my heels on the dirt in front of me as a particularly loud twig snaps in the fire and sparks flutter upward like a bunch of glowing butterflies.
I’ve always loved campfires. And the embers, as long as they aren’t making a break for my face and causing me to dodge all over the place to avoid getting burned.
“You hurt her feelings pretty badly, you know,” I add, dragging my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. That feeling is back; the guilt of not thanking him earlier. Though right now doesn’t seem to be the best time to bring that up. “She’s not going to come out of her cabin until the kids go home after that.”
“She doesn’t deserve for you to feel sorry for her.” Kayde’s words are mild, though I hear the derision in them. “It’s not your fault she couldn’t let it go. I’ve talked to her twice about this. She should’ve gotten the message before tonight.”
“She likes you,” I can’t help but point out. “She’s been swooning for you since you got here.”
“Sucks for her then, huh?” There isn’t an ounce of pity in his voice.
I pick up a marshmallow from the plate on my other side that I’ve had sitting on the ground by my feet for a solid fifteen minutes. I’ve also squirreled away one of the longer forks the kids tend to have sword fights with, but I plan on using it for its intended purpose. At least until it gets stolen the moment the kids realize I have it and my back is turned.
“So.” I lean forward on my seat, resting my weight on the balls of my feet so I can get the marshmallow close enough to the fire to get melty on the inside and golden brown on the outside, instead of charring it to a crisp the way most of the kids do.
Hell, most of the other counselors don’t have the patience to toast a marshmallow the way my mom taught me how so many years ago when she and I went camping at the lake in a small tent and no electricity.
Fuck, I miss those days.
“Have you ever gone tent camping?” It’s not what I mean to ask. But still I glance sidelong at Kayde, who looks bemused by the question. “Sorry, I just…” I bite my lip, and then continue. “I don’t know. I was thinking about it, and?—”
“A few times,” Kayde interrupts smoothly, cutting off my apologetic ramble. “What about you?”
“All the time when I was a kid,” I admit. “Things were really great after—When it was just me and mom,” I amend, really not wanting to even bring up my dad tonight. “She would take me to the lake and we had this little tent that barely fit our sleeping bags and my dog. His name was Jake,” I add, knowing Kayde really doesn’t give a damn. I let out a breath, turning the marshmallow over in the fire once I can see one side bubbling and toasted to perfection. “I loved it.”
“But you don’t go anymore?”
My only answer is a shrug. “Mom doesn’t have time. I don’t think she really wants to anymore, actually. Plus, I come here every year for way too many weeks out of the summer to babysit kids whose parents want them to do something in the great outdoors. And, well. Then there’s you. Maybe I’ll be soured on camping after this year, too.” I’m mostly joking, though for the first time, I’m actively looking forward to the week being over.
At least, I think I am.
Kayde’s quiet, and his lack of an answer is unnerving. Though when I glance his way again, he’s just watching the fire and marshmallow mildly, his eyes half-closed like he’s on the verge of falling asleep.
“Do you like s’mores?” I don’t know why I ask. Hell, I don’t know why I don’t just take the win of Kayde being silent and move on, but here I am.
He blinks, turning just a little so he can look at me as he says, “Yeah…I guess? Yes. I don’t really make them, though.”
“Because you’re too cool?” I assume, mostly joking. The marshmallow is done and I pull the long fork back to rest the cool side against my legs, while I ease off the marshmallow from the end of it and onto one of my prepared s’mores bases.
“Because I don’t have your patience or skill with a fork, apparently.” There’s a chuckle in his words as he watches my small movements, and when I look his way, he’s grinning in spite of himself. “I mostly just char marshmallows, and the taste of burning got old about ten years ago. My dad certainly wasn’t going to make me one, and I just never learned how to sit down and do it right. So…” he trails off with a shrug. “I don’t have them much.”
“Sucks to be you,” I snort, before picking up my perfectly made, five star s’more. But I don’t take a bite of it. I’ve known for the past minute or so what I’m going to do, and before I can really think about it, I grab his wrist, tugging for him to let me have his hand.
With a small sound of surprise, he does. I turn his hand over, tapping his fingers until he opens them and exposes his palm to me. Then, before he can ask why, I carefully set the s’more in his hand and give as much of a flourishing bow as I can, given that I’m sitting down. “Your perfect s’more,” I announce, a slightly self-conscious smile curling over my lips.
But when I look up, Kayde is just…staring at me. He barely holds the s’more, and only enough to make sure it doesn’t fall to the dirt between us. That, more than anything, causes a spike of doubt to stab through me, and suddenly, this feels like an awful idea.
I totally should’ve asked first, at least.
“It’s just—” I feel like I’m backpedaling, and embarrassment heats my face. “I should’ve asked if you wanted it. I just thought…” I suck in a breath, then go on in a rush, “All day I’ve been wanting to thank you for this morning. Kins brought me food, and I really thought she’d put it together, since it was all the things I eat and literally nothing I don’t like. But she told me you made it. And, okay, I’m wondering if maybe you’re a bit of a stalker, actually. Seems like you might be.”
“Uh huh.” Kayde sounds amused, at least, and as I keep going, more and more flustered with every word, he reaches his hand up and takes a bite from the s’more.
“Yeah. Yes. So this is me thanking you. And gifting you the most perfect s’more you’re ever going to eat before?—”
He cuts me off the moment he swallows by leaning toward me and pressing his sticky-sweet lips to mine. It isn’t demanding, or particularly inappropriate. It’s just…sweet. In every sense of the word.
Shocked, I can’t do anything but sit there, my brain helpfully supplying that I could be a pal and lick off the marshmallow from his lips.
Not gonna happen, I tell that part of myself, beating her off with a proverbial stick.
“Stalker, huh?” Kayde comments, after he’s polished off his s’more and I’m roasting two marshmallows on my fork. Somehow it’s still in my possession, but I can see the girls of Redtail eyeing it up once in a while. And frankly, I think Melody could take me if she really wants it. “Not usually what I’m called.”
“Only because people aren’t dumb enough to say it out loud, I’m sure,” I remark offhandedly, spinning the fork slowly like a rotisserie.
“Well, I don’t think so.” He leans over, bumping his shoulder against mine to whisper in my ear, “Normally people don’t see me before I do what I’m there for. Or if they do see me, it’s as someone completely innocent, with a perfectly believable alibi.”
Oh.
Well, it makes sense, since he hasn’t been caught.
“First time for everything?” I ask, turning to him as I pull the marshmallows off of the stick. Instead of a s’more, tonight I really just want the sticky, melty sugar of a marshmallow to glue my mouth shut.
“First time for everything, since you appeared,” Kayde agrees, taking the fork from me and bumping our knees together as he slides them off onto my plate. “No s’more for you?”
“Not in a graham cracker mood tonight. I just want the sugar,” I tell him, a wry grin on my lips.
“Gotcha.” Before I can stop him, he scoops one marshmallow off the plate and holds it up for me, prompting me to stare at him, wide eyed. “Open up, baby girl,” Kayde purrs, much too quiet for anyone to hear.
Tentatively, I do so. His fingers slip in alongside the marshmallow, and he drags the pad of his thumb over my tongue before pulling away. Chewing quickly, my face burns and I feel the pressure of someone else staring at us.
Across the fire, Liza and Kins definitely aren’t being subtle. I meet their gazes with a mouthful of melty, perfect marshmallow, only to see the surprise and fascination on their faces.
God, I feel like I’m in a soap opera. My flush deepens, and when he sees my expression, Kayde follows my gaze. A small laugh leaves him, but he doesn’t move away. If anything, he slides closer to me, an arm draped around my shoulders as I pick up the other marshmallow.
“Split this one with me?” I request, raising one brow. “You know they’re staring at us, right? Daniel’s probably documenting all the shit he can go tell Darcy, too?—”
Kayde’s movement cuts me off. He grabs my hand in an unrelenting grip and brings it up to his face, where he nips at the marshmallow playfully before taking half of it between his teeth and leaving me with the sagging, melty remains. Not that I waste the other half, of course. It goes in my mouth, and if part of me wishes I could taste Kayde’s mouth on it, then I’m definitely burying that part of me in the morning, because that’s wrong.
Besides, he’ll be gone the day after tomorrow. And even with my confused feelings, there’s a strong sense of relief in that. Sure, he can be cute as hell when he wants. He’s attractive, and so good at everything that happens at night that it makes my head spin.
But more than that, he’s a murderer. He wanted to kill the kids here, and only playing a stupid game with him saved my campers from his ax.
I do not, in any circumstance, want Kayde Lane to stay around for longer than the next thirty-six hours.
When he gets up, I blink in surprise, letting him have the disposable plate so he can chuck it into the fire. “I’ll see you later, okay?” he murmurs, though he doesn’t look at me as he speaks.
It feels…strange. Though I can’t pinpoint why.
“Later where?” I ask, because that’s important even if he doesn’t think it is.
He hesitates, but when Kayde looks at me, it’s with a grin that’s wolfish in its very nature. “Your cabin,” he promises. “Don’t worry about waiting up for me. Just leave the door unlocked and I’ll come wake you up.”
I don’t have the chance to tell him how ominous that sounds. Not when he turns and walks away, one hand in the pocket of his jeans as he heads for what looks like the lake, though it’s definitely too late for any kind of swim.