Chapter 11
Kayla
The past two weeks have been super weird. Clay comes to the bar every time I have a shift. I asked Rogue if she told him when I work, but she didn’t, so I don’t know how he knows. He doesn’t acknowledge me beyond a nod when he arrives, and when he orders a drink.
Vero, however, has been warned by Rogue not to annoy me while I am working. He follows me around and talks, or collects glasses and brings them back to the bar. If he doesn’t come in, he will text me silly reels or memes, and I can’t help how much I have grown to like the guy.
Thankfully, today is my night off. I received a mysterious message from Vero and a box, but I wasn’t allowed to open the box until tonight. So I stare it and wonder what the hell it could be.
When the clock hits seven, my phone buzzes.
Vero: Open it.
I undo the huge-ass bow on the top and drag off the lid. Inside is a pair of camo pants, a dark-green tank top, and camo face paint.
Then, as if he knows I have opened the box, a FaceTime call comes through from him.
“Are you excited? Have you gotten dressed yet? You are going to look so fucking hot.”
I laugh at how excited he is. “You need to back up a few steps. Why did you send me this?”
His brow furrows, and it’s almost as if he is trying to remember if he missed telling me something.
“We have a new exhibit opening tonight for a trial run. I bet Nixie I could drink a graveyard smoothie—she didn’t believe I could.
It was so gross it had me gagging, and I think I swallowed some of my own vomit.
But because I won, we get to hold the first chase.
It is so exciting. We get paintball guns or gel blasters, and I opted for paint because who doesn’t want to look like a rainbow when they are done?
I know I do. It’s set as a military theme for the first round, but Nixie plans to change it up regularly. ”
“Are you asking me to come back to the island?”
Vero smiles and Brawley pops his head into view on the screen. “Please say yes, he has not shut up all day waiting for you to open that stupid fucking box. It was adorable, but could have been avoided if he had hand-delivered the damn thing.”
Vero laughs. “I didn’t think of that. Next time I will deliver gifts in person. But what do you say, do you want to be a test dummy?”
“Do I get a gun?”
Vero nods.
“Then fuck yes, I’m in. Please make sure Clay is there—his ass is mine. I plan to make sure I aim for that fucker’s neck.”
Brawley laughs, and Vero promises he will get Clay to join us. “Get dressed, and I will have a driver come pick you up. Feel free to keep the video call going while you get ready.”
I chuckle and give a good-natured eye roll. “Goodbye, Vero. I’ll see you soon.”
I end the call as he blows me a kiss. He’s brought up the idea of me coming back to the island before, and I would be a huge liar if I said I didn’t want to go back.
But I didn’t want anyone to think it was the only reason I wanted to hang around with Vero.
I’m more than happy to be his friend. I love the way his mind works, and I admire the freedom of saying what he thinks and feels without filtering himself.
Pulling on the camo pants, I find they fit me perfectly, which means Vero paid attention when he shouldn’t have, and I don’t know if that is sweet or unsettling.
The dark-green tank top fits perfectly, and I pull my hair up and dig out my boots from under the bed.
I look at the face paint for a moment and decide if I am doing this, I am doing it properly.
I draw two lines under each eye and look at myself in the mirror with a grin.
After grabbing my bag, I head downstairs and out the front door, searching for the car that is picking me up. However, I see a massive black truck with tinted windows sitting at the curb, so I ignore it, as I know exactly who it is.
The window rolls down and Clay’s face comes into view. His bandanna is tied around his neck, and one arm rests on the window, but the way he looks at me is like I have inconvenienced his life. The white flag I thought he waved in the kitchen was clearly a lapse in judgment on my behalf.
“Get in.”
I snort. “I was always taught not to get in a car with a stranger.”
He fucking smirks at me. “You also shouldn’t fuck them, but here we are.” He gives me a pointed stare, but I don’t move and cross my arms. “Get in the car, Kayla, before I get out and make you.”
Mabel opens the front door in her nightgown. “Are you okay, honey? I can get my gun.”
Clay sucks his lips around his teeth, and I know the dick is trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Kayla, are you okay?”
I huff. “I’m fine, just going to visit a friend.”
I walk toward Clay’s car, pulling open the passenger door and climbing in. Shit, this truck is as obnoxious as its owner. The entire interior is black, immaculately clean, and smells annoyingly good. Why couldn’t he be a slob? I close the door, and he pulls away from the curb.
“Where is my driver? You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not important enough to me to kill someone for you.”
“So why are you here?”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “Because Vero is annoying as fuck and acting like an excited little squirrel. It was either wait there with him or come get you, and while I might not like you, you talk less than him.”
Clay turns the stereo up, and “The Summoning” by Sleep Token fills the air. Clay keeps his eyes forward, and I don’t bother engaging in conversation. He clearly doesn’t want to talk, and I’m okay with that.
After what feels like an eternity, the bridge comes into view. He drives across it and around the side—not the same way you walk to the alley. The dirt road goes around the perimeter of the island, and as I press my nose to the dark tint, everything looks pretty lit up from this angle.
“Get your nose off the fucking glass—I don’t want to wipe your snot off my windows.”
“Why don’t you make me? It’s more fun that way.”
He ignores me, and I go back to watching the lights as he pulls around to the residential side of the island.
Once he parks in front of their house and kills the engine, we both get out.
Clay stalks away, but I follow him. I don’t mind—it gives me a chance to watch his ass.
Why are the good-looking ones blessed with the worst personalities?
Though I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to be that good-looking and be a decent human being; the world has to even things out a little.
The new exhibit comes into view and Clay pulls his bandanna up over his mouth. I make a mental note to shoot him in his chest and not ruin the only good thing about him.
I slow down as we approach, in awe of how enormous it appears from a distance. The gates are massive, reminding me of Jurassic Park, and the fence stretches out in both directions on either side, topped with barbed wire.
“Jurassic Park,” I murmur, and Clay glances at me.
“What?”
“The gates . . . they remind me of the movie Jurassic Park.”
He stops and glares at me, but I simply stare back at him, a single brow raised. Clay turns and continues walking, and I fall into step beside him. I can’t tell if he is annoyed, and I find that more entertaining than I probably should.
Vero spots us before we reach the gates, so he races toward us and launches himself in my direction. He is dressed head to toe in camo, including his face.
“You came, and you look fucking fantastic. I knew the pants would fit. Clay, you owe me twenty dollars.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
Brawley is waiting near the entrance, his arms crossed, also in full camo. He nods at me. “You ready to get shot?”
“I’m ready to smoke you motherfuckers, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The corner of his mouth twitches slightly, and I grin back. “Game on, Double P,” he drawls.
“Double P?” I ask.
Brawley chuckles. “Yeah, Vero calls you paper-cut princess, but I decided double P sounds better.”
“Double P sounds like she is about to have yours and Vero’s cocks in her at the same time,” Clay snarks.
“Either works for me,” I say with a wink at Brawley.
Ares appears from inside the gates and hands me a paintball gun.
I turn it over in my hands and check the weight, then look up to find all four of them watching me closely. “What?”
“Do you know how to use that?” Ares asks. “Or do I need to show you?”
I lift the paintball gun into position, then look down the scope and find Clay dead center. Vero giggles, but Clay doesn’t move or flinch. He just stares back like he is daring me to do it.
I fire.
The paintball cracks against a tree six inches to the left of his head.
Clay doesn’t even blink, and a slow smile creeps across his face.
“You missed,” he says.
“Did I?”
Vero cackles, doubling over with both hands on his knees. “She missed on purpose, dickhead. Clay you are so screwed.”
“FYI, I never miss,” I say, lowering the gun and looking Clay dead in the eye. “That was a warning shot.”
Ares makes a sound behind me, one I am nearly certain is a laugh, though it’s almost silent. I turn to look at him, and his arms are folded across his chest, head tilted just slightly. He is watching me the way he did previously, like he wants to deconstruct me from the inside out.
Clay’s smile drops and his jaw tightens as I turn the paintball gun over in my hand. Nixie comes out and runs us through the safety briefing—a two-minute head start for me, stay inside the boundary markers, no dead bodies.
“Any questions?”
“Is there anything in there I should know about?” I ask her, because I don’t want any surprise scarecrows taking me out.
“Military props, full tanker, bunkers, watchtowers,” she replies.
“What’s the tanker for?” It seems a little excessive to have a full-sized one in there.
Vero raises his hand. “I may have requested a tanker.”
With a sigh, I check my gun one more time and look at Clay, who is watching me over his bandanna with an unreadable expression. I smile at him sweetly. “Try to keep up.”
“You’ve got two minutes,” he says. “Make them count.”
The gates open and I don’t waste a single second, charging inside.
I run along the left perimeter line, using the fence as cover while my eyes adjust to the layout.
The tanker is dead center, completely blocking the line of sight through the middle of the space, but it means anyone coming through the main path is visible from at least three angles.
I make a mental note of that and keep moving.
Bunkers line the left side of the field, and a watchtower is situated in the far-left corner. I run toward it and climb the stairs, as from up here I can see the entire ground level. The gates swing open, and I drop down behind the tower wall before any of them clear the entrance.
Footsteps sneak below me and sound like they head off behind the nearby camo mesh hanging between two trees, which ripples subtly in their wake. I see a shadow near the bunkers that materializes into Brawley as he moves to peer inside one, but he isn’t my target, so I let him pass.
I have only one target in mind.
I cautiously exit the tower and move through the course with stealth until I’m at the back of the tanker, where I locate Clay, whose facing away from me.
After checking my surroundings, I follow quietly behind him.
As he sneaks toward the back of the largest bunker, I raise my gun, but he must sense me.
Right as he turns, I pull the trigger, and a paintball hits him square in the chest. A giant blue patch of paint explodes right over his heart.
Clay looks down at the paint spreading across his camo shirt and then at me.
I lower the gun and smile, gloating at my win.
He pulls his bandanna down and smirks at me. Then, before I can say anything, I hear the click of three guns behind me, and I close my eyes, bracing for the hits.
“Don’t move,” Vero says, and I know has a massive grin on his face. “Hands where I can see them.”
I raise both my hands slowly and turn to see Vero, Brawley, and Ares standing in a semi-circle behind me, all their guns raised, and the three of them are covered in varying amounts of paint—which means they have been taking shots at each other.
“You set me up,” I accuse.
Vero lowers his gun and presses it to his chest. “We lured you in. But you got Clay, and I want it noted that he owes me forty dollars now.”
Behind me Clay reloads, and I turn back around to find him looking at me.
He raises his gun and shoots me directly in the shoulder. “Now we’re even,” he says.
Not even close, but for now I will let him think he has won this round.