Chapter 36
With my feet crunching through the underbrush as I wave the flashlight around in front of me, I’m definitely not as aware of things as I could be. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, when I realize that the extra sounds I’m hearing aren’t just weird echoes, ghosts, or monsters in the woods.
Please don’t be Shawn, I find myself thinking, just before I whirl around and point my flashlight up at face level. I’m not sure why or when he’s become the winning member of my ‘who I don’t want sneaking up behind me’ list, but sometime in the past twenty-four hours, he’s surpassed Kayde’s position there.
Though not by much. So when I see curly blond hair and slow blinking caramel eyes squinting in my flashlight, I scowl and drop the light to my side immediately. “You’ve been following me.” It isn’t a question, and I glance around us like Kins or Liza or a werebear is about to pounce out of the woods. “For a bit, right?”
His head tilts to the side, thoughtful, before answering. “Yeah,” Kayde admits, his voice neutral and unreadable. “For a bit.”
“Hmm.” That doesn’t quite make sense, but only because I know him well enough to know he can sneak up on me whenever the hell he wants. The shower had been proof of that, and with how much noise I’ve been making, I’m definitely not at my most observational tonight. “But you were making noise on purpose so that I heard you.” I flick the flashlight back up in his direction, as if inviting him to take his turn with the words.
Since I’m not willing to blind him at the moment, I can’t see the slide of expressions across his face that I would normally use to gauge his mood. Instead, I just have to wait, in the relative silence of the breezy night around us, for him to grace me with an answer.
“If I agree, then doesn’t that seem a little…sad?” Kayde asks at last, crossing the distance between us and crunching the leaves under his feet.
“Why?” This close, and with the light at my side, I can see just enough of his face to see the curl of his smirk.
“Because if I’ve been following you for, say, twelve minutes now and making all the noise that I can think to make, and it took you this long to notice me, then you really should’ve stayed in bed after the incident in the pool you didn’t tell me about.”
Whoops.
I definitely don’t feel bad about not telling him. In my defense, we hadn’t seen much of each other for the rest of the afternoon or evening. Even at the campfire, Kayde was occupied by a few members of his cabin starting a fight, then babysitting them in Liza’s cabin until their parents could come pick them up for bad behavior.
So frankly, I’m not at fault here. But I might be the only one who agrees.
“I don’t need to be in bed,” I sigh, whirling on my heel and setting off on the small path through the trees again. “I’m fine. And it was an accident, not an incident.” That’s what I tell myself, anyway, though the words feel sour on my tongue.
“Was it?” His hand brushes through my hair, a ghost of a touch, before falling to his side once more as he walks beside me. “Who had you pinned under the water again?”
He already knows the answer. I don’t need to confirm it for him.
“Besides,” I sigh, not looking at him as I move the flashlight around to see everything. It’s just routine at this point. I don’t expect to find anything other than maybe an owl if I’m lucky. “I told Kins I’d take her walk around tonight so she could spend the night with Liza.”
“And you’re really going to tell me, with all honesty, that she didn’t try to take her walk back after what happened?” His voice is a low rumble in his chest, and he sounds certainly less than pleased.
“No. I won’t tell you that. Not since I can take a very educated guess who told you what happened today.” I finally glance at him, offering Kayde the flashlight. “Here. You want this? Since you’re so determined that I am a weak and delicate maiden who can’t walk or carry a flashlight after being dunked in the pool.”
“Sweetheart.” He pushes my hand away, then digs in his pocket and comes up with a small flashlight that he turns on. It’s brighter than my big chunky one, and I grimace at the bright LED light, pulling all the color from anything it illuminates. “You were more than dunked. According to Kinsley, you were sucking in air when you went under, and you were under for a good twenty seconds.”
Had it really been that long?
It hadn’t felt like it, with my lungs burning and my brain clouding over with panic. It had seemed like both an instant and an eternity. But that sounds stupid as hell, so I’m definitely not about to say it.
“So you came out here to follow me around and make sure I don’t fall into a puddle?”
“I follow you around more than you think. I just don’t normally let you notice.”
The words are so…honest. Well, as honest as they are shocking. I come to a stop, nearly tripping over my feet as I stare at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re really surprised?” He flicks the flashlight in an arc around us, before turning to glance side-long at me. “You’re actually shocked about that, Summer?”
“Well…yes?” Because I never knew. Though if he’s as good as I assume he is, as I’m sure he is, at following people, then how in the world would I ever know? “Do other people know you do it?”
“Not at all.”
“Why do you do it?”
He doesn’t speak. Not for a few seconds as he stares at me in the darkness. Even when he starts walking again, clearly deciding he’s in the lead of our little stroll now, he still doesn’t say a word.
The silence stretches long enough that I’m uncomfortable with it, but just when I’m considering saying something else on my own, Kayde speaks.
“Because I can’t not follow you around.” There’s honesty in his words, along with a touch of frustration and maybe, possibly, bemusement. “That’s insane, right?”
“I don’t know.” I yawn, covering my mouth. “You’re pretty insane, so it probably tracks.”
Kayde whirls suddenly, one hand coming up so he can press his thumb and forefinger to the base of my throat. My heart leaps to the space between his fingers, though it feels less like an escape response and more like I’m starting to crave this sort of touch from Kayde.
Though I definitely ignore the way my body wants to lean into the hold, to make him press harder to my neck around my pulse points.
“Careful, baby girl,” Kayde sighs, though there’s no real threat in it.
“Or you’ll hurt me?” It’s easier to be bold in the dark, when I can barely see the looming, blond consequences of my words glaring down at me.
“Or I’ll pin you to that tree about six feet behind you and fuck you until you can’t walk. Doubt you want to get back to camp with me carrying you. Just think of how we’ll have to explain things to Kinsley and Liza when I go get you an ice pack or a heating pad for your soreness.”
“Is that—” Somehow, I cut myself off. “Never mind.”
“No, come on,” Kayde leans closer, cooing. “I want to hear what risky, bold thing you were about to say to me.”
Well, fuck it, I suppose.
“Is that a threat?” I lean into his hold, staring up at him. “Or a promise, Kayde?”
For a moment, I think I’ve broken him. My psychopath stands there, completely still, like his brain is trying to reboot and remember how to run the Kayde program. I think I see him blink, and his fingers flex around my throat seconds before he barks out a laugh and drops his hand.
“I don’t know what I want more,” he admits, starting to walk again. “To fuck that attitude out of you, or let you keep going until you’re so deep in shit with me you’ll never get free.”
Aren’t I there already?
It certainly feels that way.
“I can’t leave you alone,” he admits again, picking the conversation back up from where we’d left off before…Well, my mouth got in the way. “I can’t. Especially when you’re so damned good at getting yourself hurt. I know I can’t tie you up and keep you in your cabin all day. Kinsley would come looking for you eventually and I don’t want to deal with her mad at me. But…”
I see him shake his head again, as if to clear it. “Guess I’m just too in love with you, Summer. That’s the only answer.”
I don’t know how to tell him that people in love don’t stalk each other. Maybe in his world, in his mind, they really do.
Wait a second?—
“I’m sorry, back up.” My voice is sharper than I intend, and Kayde turns, head tipping like he’s a confused golden retriever. “Are you telling me that the only reason you have against tying me to my bed in my cabin?—”
“Probably my cabin,” he muses. “Melody would probably break in and get you out of yours.”
“Whatever. Is that you don’t want someone else finding me, breaking me out, and being pissed at you?” Surely I’m mistaken and he’s just forgotten to mention how much of an inconvenience to me it would be.
“Uh, yeah. What else should I worry about?” Kayde’s footsteps crunch in the leaves, and he cracks down on a stick that sounds like a gunshot. “I’d feed you. You wouldn’t starve or dehydrate. I’d even give you bathroom breaks.”
“You should worry that I, Summer, might take offense to being locked in a damn cabin,” I tell him flatly.
“You think I couldn’t keep your mind off of it?” His tone is wicked when he asks the question, and I nearly stumble over a root. “You think I couldn’t entertain you, baby girl?”
God, okay, I’ve made a mistake, clearly. Instead of answering, I just snort at his words and lengthen my steps, walking off of the path and further into the woods like I’m going to go get lost just to free myself of his company tonight.
Though evidently, with his admission of stalking me, that might not be an option. “You’re insane,” I call back over my shoulder, feet kicking up forest debris as I stumble over a rock. “You know that, right? It’s not normal to just casually talk about stalking, or kidnapping, or imprisonment—” My foot collides with something big and heavy. Something that isn’t a stone or root.
I go down, arms wheeling at my sides and my flashlight hitting the ground hard enough that it flickers before steadying once more.
“Fuck,” I hiss, hearing Kayde coming at me through the underbrush. “Fuck, that was smart, Summer. What in the hell…” My words trail off as I grasp the flashlight to look at what I’ve fallen over.
Only to find an open, black duffel bag with metal pieces shining up at me dully. I move my legs off of it, aware I only have a few seconds before Kayde is within range to see it as well.
My hand reaches out, fingers groping around in the shadowy bag, only for me to yelp and jerk my hand back to stare at a small slice in my finger that wells blood like a paper cut. “What the heck?” I whisper again, aware I’m repeating myself.
By the time Kayde is on the other side of the duffle bag, his flashlight pointing down on it, my hand is back in the bag, more careful this time. “Summer, don’t—” His protest dies on his lips when I pull out a long, wicked-looking knife.
One that’s pretty similar to the knife I’d threatened Kayde with. The knife that was his.
“Kayde…” My heart hammers in my chest, and I can’t help but stare up at him, the knife in my hands. “Kayde, you said…you promised.” I feel like crying. Maybe he didn’t promise in so many words, but fuck, he’d sounded like he meant it.
He’d said he meant it, that he wasn’t here to kill anyone.
But there’s no way to mistake this.
Not when the bag is filled with ropes, a lighter, a small bottle of gasoline, and two more knives. Not when the duffel bag is black and had been half hidden in leaves before I accidentally uncovered it.
“Summer.” Slowly Kayde kneels next to me, never once looking down at the bag. In the light from my flashlight that’s still on the ground, I can see the furrow in his brow and the frown touching his lips. “Listen to me.” There’s a note of urgency in his voice. Something I don’t understand, but I’m not willing to listen.
I shake my head back and forth, legs curled up under me, though I don’t get to my feet. “You said,” I whisper, feeling like I’m going to cry. He’d lied to me.
He’d fucking lied.
“You said?—”
“Summer stop?—”
“You said you wouldn’t kill anyone!” My voice is too loud, and seems to echo through the surrounding trees. Kayde looks up, a frown on his lips, and looks around as if he’s afraid someone can hear us.
As if he’s not the only danger here.
“You said you were here for me, n-not—” I break off with a broken, frustrated laugh and fight not to cry in humiliation and shame. “You fucking said?—”
“They’re not mine.” Whatever patience he has with me must be fraying, judging by the way he hisses out the words. “Summer, that’s not fucking mine.”
“I can’t believe I believed you?—”
“SUMMER!” Kayde lunges forward, gripping my chin in his hand. “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, and I need you to listen.” He doesn’t go on until finally, after a few seconds, I drag my eyes up to his.
And I’m shocked at the earnestness I see there. Along with the touch of worry.
“Those. Aren’t. Mine.” He points with his other hand down at the duffel bag, and the knife in my hand, before pointing at himself.
But still my brain, that’s working on overdrive, isn’t keen on listening. It takes me longer than it should, with panic building in my chest until it’s ready to overflow. Until the words finally kick in and my brain takes notice of them.
Those.
Aren’t.
Mine.
“…What?” I murmur through numb lips. “Are you kidding me? You expect me to believe?—”
“I expect you to remember that knives are not my first choice. And knives like these?” The hand that isn’t gripping my chin darts into the duffel bag. He pulls out the other two blades, sheathed, and holds them up to the moonlight. “I’ve never had anything to do with them. With anything like this. Remember my knife? The one you held against me?” He drops the two knives in his hand, then gently tugs the one I’m holding out of my hand. “Look at this one, baby girl.” He holds it up to, and I see finally that there are some glaring differences between this sleek, almost butcher knife, and the hunting knife he’d had in his duffel.
“These aren’t my weapons, Summer. Not my ropes, my gasoline, or anything else. None of this is mine.” He stares at me, willing me to get what he’s saying, but my brain just isn’t there yet.
Until it is.
Oh. Fuck.
“No. No, you can’t expect me to believe that, what, there’s another murderer at Camp Crestview?” I scramble to my feet, shaking my head as I pull free of him. “Kayde, that’s fucking ridiculous. You can’t think?—”
He steps over the duffel bag, closing in on me again. “I think that I’m not nearly the scariest thing out there. Or the quietest,” he breathes, face close to mine. “And you should remember that, too.” His eyes blaze a warning that finally sinks in, and I bite my lower lip.
Do I believe him?
That’s the million dollar question I can’t stop from running through my head on repeat.
“Do you think I believe you?” I don”t know how I expect it to come out. Kinsley would be offended if I ever asked her that.
But Kayde…isn’t Kinsley. He searches my face in the dim light, then reaches up to stroke his knuckles down my cheek. “No,” he sighs finally, a wry grin on his face. “But I think you want to. I can’t DNA print that duffel bag for you to prove the shit inside isn’t mine. All I can do is tell you that it isn’t.”
I can’t know that for sure. But he’s definitely right about one thing. I want to believe him. Hesitantly, I reach up, my fingers grazing his chin. “Tell me again,” I demand, panic still thrumming in my veins.
He reaches up and grasps my wrist lightly, leaning in until his nose brushes mine. “That shit is not mine, Summer,” he promises quietly. “But it’s someone’s. And I’d like to be far from here when they come to get it.”
Belatedly, I realize that we’re at the farthest point from the populated areas of Camp Crestview that we can be while still on the property, and that’s the only saving grace to finding this. Though, that’s not really that much of a good thing, if I consider all the details.
And I have to decide now if I’m going to believe Kayde or not.
“If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you.” The words aren’t teasing. They aren’t meant to be cute or funny or provoke a heat-fueled reaction from him.
They’re just a promise.
“I’ll tell Kinsley if I have to. And we’ll kill you before we let you touch any of our kids.”
“I know, baby girl.” His wry grin returns, and he presses his forehead to mine. “But I’m not lying to you. I promise.”