Chapter 51
The first thing that tips me off I might not be dead is Kinsley’s voice filling my ears, along with the occasional beep of a machine.
The second thing is the dull ache that runs through me, though it’s significantly less than the pain I’d been in before passing out in the woods.
“I’ve heard this story before,” I mumble, as Kinsley launches into the tale about her beating up some bully on our playground. That had been how we met, actually, and a smile touches my lips at the memory.
“You’ve lived it too,” Kinsley replies crisply, but I can hear the tremor in her voice and the creak of the chair she’s sitting in. “Holy shit, Summer.” When I’m finally able to open my eyes, Kinsley has moved to hover over me, her eyes wide in a pale face. “You almost died.” She whispers the words like they’re a secret.
“Yeah, I kind of got that when I was passing out in the ambulance,” I tease, though my voice is hoarse and I know I sound awful. “How long’s it been? Any news for me about, well…” I lift my arms as much as I can, which isn’t much given they feel like they have lead weights attached to them. “Anything.”
“Okay. News. Yes.” Kinsley falls back into her seat, eyes closed as she collects her thoughts. “Well, Fink showed up right when the police and paramedics did. That’s about when Kayde carried you out of the woods all heroically and dramatically.”
I snort softly, my eyes sliding closed. “Where is Kayde? And Liza?”
“One question at a time.” Her tone is reprimanding, but she doesn’t mean it. Not when I can hear the teasing under the words. “Kayde, Liza, and your mom went to the cafeteria. She was ready to murder someone on her own. I think she might’ve slipped Kayde a twenty for the public service of dispatching Shawn.”
I can’t help but crack a smile at that, and my fingers curl into the sheets. For some reason, I hadn’t even considered that my mom would be here. But now that I know she is, I’m aching to see her.
“The ambulance took you. Kayde wanted to ride along, but uh, that didn’t go well. Liza did, though. Since she’s the closest thing to a doctor and could explain to them what happened.” She stops talking and is silent long enough that I crack my eyes open to glance her way.
She looks…awful.
Kinsley’s shoulders are hunched, and she seems to be trying to fold in on herself. With her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed, I’m starting to think I really am dead and hallucinating this whole thing.
“You died in that ambulance,” Kinsley whispers, looking up at me mournfully. “You died. Liza told me they had to get you back twice, and you were rushed into surgery when you got here. He just barely nicked an artery in your leg.”
Oh. Well, so much for me thinking he hadn’t.
“Well, as I’m not dead now…” I look myself over, as much as I can. “Seems to me this worked out okay.”
Her watery chuckle is reluctant and humorless. “What were you thinking?” she demands, leaning forward in her chair toward me. “Why didn’t you run away from him? He was crazy, Summer. He was insane.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of why I couldn’t. He was going to hurt you guys. And you know, I am the one with more in-the-bed hospital experience. I figured I’d take one for the team?—”
“You shouldn’t be joking about this!” She gets to her feet quickly, tears shining in her eyes. “You were dead, Summer!” Belatedly, I think that if she keeps screaming at me, she’s going to get a nurse called on us.
“You can yell at me all you want.” My eyes drift closed again. “But I’m going to do the same anytime you’re in trouble, Kins. It’s not in me to let you get hurt.” Her, the kids, or anyone else I care about.
“You can’t self-sacrifice your way through life,” Kins mutters, and I grin at the words.
Self-sacrificing has been the name of the game this summer. Starting with Kayde and ending here. Had I suspected I’d get murdered, or almost murdered? Yeah, I had. Every time Kayde had come to play with me that first week, I’d been sure that was it. That I wouldn’t wake up the next morning.
So there’s definitely something ironic about the fact it was Shawn to almost do me in, and Kayde being the one to save me.
“Can I…talk to you about Kayde?” Kinsley’s words are slow and deliberate, and they send alarm bells ringing through my tired brain. “For a minute, if you aren’t too tired?”
Tremors of nervousness ripple up my arms and down my spine, but I open my eyes to look at her again. Explanations and excuses roll around my brain like bowling balls, but I bite my tongue until she speaks.
“Is there something, uh, off with him?” She sounds…polite. Like she’s trying not to offend me or be rude. “Because I don’t know how awake you were, but he kind of stomped Shawn’s face to a bloody mess.”
“Oh, I was so awake for that,” I assure her drowsily.
“I think your boyfriend is a little fucked up.”
My snort is softer than I intend, and I hate that I’m falling back asleep. “Does it bother you if he is?” I find myself asking as the excuses and explanations drain right out of my brain.
“What? No, not at all.” I hear her shift again on the chair. “I think it’s cool as hell. So long as he’s with you, who in the world could ever fuck with you, huh? Seems like the best remedy for that hero complex shit you’ve got going on.”
“I’m a self-sacrificer,” I remind her, my words slurred.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Hey, there, Summer.” The voice is strained, and worried, and every little bit of what I want to hear. My mother smoothes my hair back from my face as I force my eyes open, and a small smile touches my lips when I see her.
“Mom,” I sigh, putting all of my strength into lifting my arms until I can hook them over her shoulders. “Oh mom. I’m so happy you’re here. Kins said you were, but I couldn’t stay awake, and?—”
“Shhh, shh. You’re okay, hon.” I don’t realize until she wipes tears off of my face that I’m crying, but once I do, it’s like a dam breaks in me.
I sob, face in her shirt, and my mom sits on the bed properly, rocking me a bit awkwardly as I cry. And the best thing about her is that she just lets me do it. Mom just holds me, letting me cry out the pain, the fear, and the worry from the last few days.
“You’re okay,” she murmurs, hands rubbing my back as I cry. “Everything is okay. The doctors say you’re going to be fine. All of your friends are fine.”
My breath catches in my lungs, and I wish I could stop crying, but now that I’ve started, I can’t. Thankfully, my mom is the only one in the room, instead of someone who might judge me for this.
At least, until a noise in my ears signifies the door sliding open, and when I peek over my mom’s shoulder, I see Kayde hesitating in the doorway, concern etched onto his features while he holds two styrofoam cups of hospital coffee.
“I’m clearly crying because you weren’t here for all of a few minutes,” I mumble hoarsely, making a joke out of it. My mom twists to glance back, and a small smile touches Kayde’s lips.
“I can go,” he tells me, setting the coffee cups down on the nightstand. “I can come back—” I reach out with my one free hand and grip the fabric of his t-shirt in a silent plea for him to not go anywhere.
“You don’t have to,” I murmur, feeling selfish. Tears still run down my cheeks, but at least I’m no longer actively sobbing. “You can stay. I uh, hear you two may have met?” My mom pulls back, but helps me sit up slowly and carefully in my hospital bed.
“Someone should’ve told me she has a boyfriend. Especially when it’s so serious,” my mom admonishes gently. I stare up at her, taking in her bright green eyes set in a face as pale as mine with a spattering of freckles. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun, and more than anything, Mom looks exhausted.
“We’re more like…engaged than just dating,” Kayde slips in smoothly, and I shoot him a withering look, prepared for my mother to launch into a speech about not rushing things.
But my mother beams at him, then looks at me. “You could definitely do worse,” she assures me. “And Kayde says I get to plan the wedding.”
“Does he now?” My brows arch towards my bangs as Mom grasps my hand lightly. “That’s so…bold of him.” If there’s a warning in my eyes, then Kayde just ignores it as he smiles and sips his coffee.
“Hey.” My mom draws my attention back to her and smiles. For the first time, I see her red-rimmed, puffy eyes and the exhaustion dragging at her features; making the lines in her face look worse than usual. Today. My mom looks closer to sixty than fifty, and I don’t like it. “I love you, Summer. And everything is going to be okay. You’ll get to go home in a few days, and then you can sleep and watch all the horror movies you want.”
“While you and Kayde plan the wedding?” I ask rebelliously, and my mother laughs.
“Yeah. Absolutely. We’ll take care of all of it while you go on a Texas Chainsaw Massacre marathon. Sound fair?”
“Only if we get a Leatherface impersonator to marry us.” I yawn, leaning back against the head of the bed. “That sound okay?”
My mother makes a face, and Kayde chuckles. “I’m sure it can be arranged,” he promises, and offers the other cup of coffee to Mom.
“Thank you.” She stands, hand still in mine, and searches my face before she smiles lightly again. “I love you,” my mom reminds me. “I’m going to run to the bathroom, okay?” When her eyes flick to Kayde, I realize this is just a terribly unsubtle ploy for me to talk to my apparent ‘fiance.’
“Okay,” I sigh, knowing she’s going to take her sweet time. “Grab me like ten gallons of coffee on your way back? Please?”
“Nope.” My mother breezes out of the room, closing the door behind her as she goes.
For a moment, the room is silent. I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the occasional beeping from the machines I’m hooked up to has become white noise to me. “So how’d you do it?” I ask, turning to look at Kayde where he’s still sitting quietly.
His eyes widen, and my sociopath is full of innocent good will as I glare at him. “Don’t even try the Lassie face with me, Kayde. My mom doesn’t just like people. She threatened the last guy I dated with a lawsuit.”
“Maybe he deserved it.” Kayde shrugs. “Maybe she just knows I’m your soulmate.”
“Maybe you’re stupidly charming and know how to get what you want,” I retort, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe that one. But she does like me, Summer.”
“She doesn’t actually think we’re engaged, right?”
The look Kayde gives me makes me groan, and I throw my head back against the pillows. It’s a questionable move, and my head spins while nausea briefly claws at my stomach. But I swallow it down and suck in a breath before focusing on him once more.
“She’s certainly heard me say it enough over the past few days. And she only questioned it once, then asked why you aren’t wearing a ring. I think that’s the part she’s most upset about,” Kayde admits. “Why? Would you prefer for me to tell her that you’re mine? That I’ll kill anyone who touches you? Shawn is pretty good evidence of that. But I can phrase it that way if?—”
“No, God. No,” I moan, eyes closed again. “Can you tell me more about what happened? I asked Kinsley, and she started to tell me, but then I?—”
I barely hear him move. My eyes open just as his face looms in my vision, and his fingers drift against my cheek just before his lips slant against mine sweetly.
It’s not the normal kind of kiss we share. It’s kind and affectionate. There’s no demand between his lips. Nothing urging me to do more. Just…Kayde.
It’s perfect.
When he finally pulls away, it’s just so he can sit and press his forehead to mine. “What were you thinking?” he murmurs, hand cupping my face. “What were you thinking, Summer?” For the first time, I hear the rawness in his voice. The nerves, the exhaustion, and everything else he never lets me hear. For the first time, my heart twists for Kayde and I reach up to press my fingers to his jaw, delighting in the warmth of his skin and the scrape of stubble against my fingers.
“I couldn’t let him hurt Kins and Liza,” I murmur. “Come on, you know that. I had no phone service, but I did have a Melody. It’s not like I did all bad.”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d died.” The admission is so raw and genuine that I have to swallow around the lump in my throat before I can even think of an answer.
“This is unhealthy.” The words come out in a soft whisper, and I find I can’t look away from him. “We’re unhealthy. We can’t be this attached, Kayde. I’ve only known you for, what, three weeks?”
“Give or take a few days with you here,” Kayde replies. A smile quirks at his lips, and satisfaction lights up his eyes. “Also, you totally just said we.”
“Don’t push it,” I warn.
“No, you said we. Does that mean?—”
“I’ll cut out your tongue if you say it?—”
“Does that mean you love me, Summer?” Kayde purrs, leaning in closer.
I can’t help it. I kiss him hard, with desperation and sweetness and a demand that had been absent from my lips before. But he meets me with the same energy, hands clutching at my shoulders for a few precious seconds. But he lets me go too quickly, leaving me a panting mess with an increased heart rate that I can hear in the beeping behind me.
“If we do too much more, you’re going to have nurses in here trying to revive you,” Kayde breathes, his voice rough. There’s a brightness in his gaze that I’ve never seen before, and I stroke my fingers along his face, touching him freely for the first time outside of sex.
“If I say it, you have to get me coffee,” I bargain as I settle back in the bed. “Deal?”
Kayde’s grin turns taunting. “No deal,” he replies. “That’s unhealthy for you. Besides.” He leans in again, nose brushing mine. “I don’t actually need you to say it, sweetheart. I can see it all over your face.”
When he moves to pull away again, I reach out to grip his wrists, the smile falling from my lips to be replaced with seriousness. I contemplate this. Us. I study his face, and finally I say, “I love you, you know. It’s weird and fucked up and probably some folie a deux shit going on. But you were right. I’ve probably been in love with you for at least a few days. Depending on how long I’ve been out.”
“Four days and six hours,” Kayde informs me, still grinning. “That’s how long you’ve been here.”
“Tell me you’ve gone home some. Tell me Mom has, too.”
“Of course not, baby.” His fingers curl around mine. “We were never going to leave you.”
Getting the full story of what happened takes another day, due to me falling back asleep at random and being unable to stay up for more than an hour at a time. Though according to Kayde, my record for the first twenty-four hours after waking up is staying awake for approximately forty-seven minutes, not quite an hour.
But I’m on the side of rounding up, for my own pride.
According to Kinsley and Kayde, the cops had taken everyone’s statements, including Darcy’s, and ruled Shawn’s death self defense. None of us are in trouble or under suspicion.
Especially once Emily wakes up and admits to Shawn pushing her.
Both Kinsley and Liza lament that they’ll never know what the hell happened to Shawn, and more than once allude to the wedding they’re sure Kayde and I will be having before Christmas. But it’s Kayde who finally admits to knowing a little more than they do.
“He’s not like me,” Kayde tells me, leaning back in his chair while I curl my legs up under me in my hospital bed. “He’s not like me, or Grey, or Melody. Well, wasn’t, since he’s very dead now.” He glances at me when he says it, like I’ll suddenly grow a conscience about Shawnathon’s death.
But while I replay the image of Kayde kicking his face over and over in my brain, it’s not because I’m disgusted or having a moral crisis.
It’s because he’d gotten what he’d deserved, and Kayde had been a sight that I never want to forget.
“We’re not crazy,” Kayde goes on, explaining what he means. “Sure, we may be messed up. Grey is definitely a psychopath, while Mel is, I think, more like me. But we don’t go on frenzies or do stupid shit just because we snap. I talked to Darcy.”
My brows shoot up at that, and he grins wryly in my direction. “I didn’t even yell at her. She asked about you, by the way. But I told her she didn’t have the right to say your name. Turns out, she’s known for a while that something is off with Shawn. He had these dreams about you, where first he imagined you being his, kissing you, whatever. But then they changed and became dreams of murdering you. He’s been having them for two years now, according to Darcy. But something changed.”
“When you arrived, right?”
“Yeah. I guess it triggered something in him, because Shawn started having them constantly. He was obsessing over the idea of killing you. Slowly. He only waited so long because he didn’t want it to be over. He wanted to hurt you, Summer.” His voice is flat as he says it, but I can see the spark of rage in his face. “Darcy thinks it has something to do with his mom, or his childhood. I don’t know. I’ll be honest here, Summer.” When he looks at me, it’s with a flat, disinterested expression. “I couldn’t care less what shitty things happened to him as a kid. The moment he thought about killing you, it was all over.”
Hours later, I still can’t get his look out of my head. Not when he’s sleeping in the uncomfortable chair by my bed, and certainly not when my mother whispers to me that he’ll make a great son-in-law.
I want to feel bad for Shawn. For the little boy that had a hard time growing up and turned into someone that couldn’t control themselves.
But I can’t.
Because at the end of the day, he’s not the only one of us who suffered abuse or cruelty from their parents. But he is the only one who took it out on a child and tried to kill me not once, but twice in the same day.
So I stop trying to find my moral compass and instead focus on memorizing Kayde’s face while he sleeps.
The flowers from Grey arrive a day later. I roll my eyes at his note, unsurprised to see stupid, cartoonish drawings of bunnies on it and a wish for me to get better soon. The bouquet is the most ridiculous, over the top thing I’ve ever seen as well, and when I find a second note stuffed into the vase, I unfold it with knit together brows.
Thanks for keeping my stuff safe. Got it out of your cabin before I left. I expect an invite to the wedding, but please get in writing that Kayde won’t kill me as a wedding gift to you, okay?
P.S. I heard Kayde stomped his face in. Was it epic??
P.P.S. Tell Melody to stop going into the woods alone, looking for a thrill. She’s going to find it, if she keeps it up.
I can’t decide whether to laugh or groan, but a knock on the door has me stuffing the note back into the vase where it can’t be seen through the gaudy bunch of flowers.
“Summer?” a small, nervous voice calls. “Could I come in?” It takes me a second to place it, but when I do, my grin turns rueful.
“Yeah, Mel. Of course you can,” I tell her, dragging myself up in my bed.
In seconds Melody is around the curtain, her mom behind her looking me over.
“Oh, Summer,” her mom sighs, giving me a pained smile. “I know you take your job seriously, but isn’t this a little much?”
I glance at Melody, unsure of how much her mom knows about the situation, and my favorite camper says slowly, “I told mom about Emily. I said you were the only one willing to go after her, but you fell, too.”
Well, it’s not the worst lie I’ve ever heard.
I grin wolfishly at her mom, fiddling with my sheets. “Nah, I promised to risk life and limb for my campers, Mrs. Carr,” I promise. “No matter the danger.”
“There should be some kind of camp counselor award for dedication, then.” Melody makes a face at her mom’s words, and shrugs free of her grasp.
“Can I talk to Summer alone for a few minutes?” she requests, eyes wide and plaintive. “Please, Mom?”
Her mom doesn’t argue, but I’ve started to think that her mom never argues with her. She’s out of the room in a few seconds, and Melody turns to me again, then takes the chair I dramatically motion her toward.
“Who are these from?” she asks, wrinkling her nose at the vase of flowers.
“Grey,” I tell her flatly. “He’s—Mel, no!” But before I can do more than reach toward her, Melody has fished the note out of the vase and read it quickly. Her brows lift, and she looks at me incredulously, appearing much older than twelve.
“I get to come to the wedding too, right?”
“Yeah, Mel.” I laugh, rubbing my face. “You can be the flower girl.”
“I’m too old for that.”
“Bridesmaid? Ring bearer?”
“Maid of honor,” Melody retorts.
“Pretty sure Kinsley gets that.”
“Well, if she doesn’t want it, can I be the runner-up?”
I crack a smile at her words. “Sure. You’ve got it. Runner-up maid of honor.”
She refolds the paper and shoves it back in the vase before sitting back in the chair, her hands clasped around the armrests. “I met him in the woods,” she admits finally. “One night when I was out looking.”
Looking for what, I want to ask her. But I keep my mouth shut. I don’t need her to confirm Kayde’s suspicions or my worries.
“Did you like him?”
She scrunches her nose and shrugs. “He was weird. He’s so happy, and he giggles.” She’s right. He does, in fact, giggle like a psycho. Mel is quiet for a few moments, and I take the time to drum my fingers on my stomach and wish I could go home earlier than tomorrow.
“Kayde is…like me,” she says finally. Carefully.
And instantly, I know this is not a conversation I want to have. I grimace and turn to look at her, studying Melody’s face. “Like you?” I repeat, but she just glares at me. “Okay, all right. But you’re twelve, Melody. I do not think you can compare yourself to Kayde at twelve.”
“I turned thirteen yesterday,” Melody corrects.
“Happy birthday. My point still stands.”
“Can I come visit you guys sometime, maybe? I like you. And umm.” She taps her fingers against the armrests. “I’ve never met anyone like me.”
I hope she never will again.
“If you ever need help, then absolutely. If you want to just come hang out and get away from your mom and all that stress, then absolutely to that too. With her permission, of course. Don’t pin a kidnapping charge on me, please.”
She smiles at that, and hops out of the chair to hug me, suddenly. “Thanks, Summer,” she mumbles, squeezing a little tighter than I’d like her to. “You made Camp Crestview worth going back to.”
“Nah,” I sigh, as the door opens to admit a curious Kayde and Melody’s mom. “You just think that.”