Chapter Twenty-Four Goldie #2
He lifts his brows, trying to emphasize the last part, really nailing his attempt at terrible acting, which makes Evie look at me with that shit-eating grin she gets when her thoughts play out on her face.
But she does as she’s told and puts her phone in.
I stand there for a long second, looking down at my screen. She steps in closer to me, speaking quietly so only I hear her.
“You’ll never be strong enough to deal with what happened if you don’t walk away. Give yourself a fighting chance, Golds.”
My eyes well because she’s right: I need to walk away from even the possibility of Noah. But what if . . .
Dammit.
Before I can think twice, I turn my phone off and watch the screen go black before I carefully place it in the case, not looking back as I take the bus’s steps.
Evie rubs my back as we make our way down the tight aisle with our bags, one of my hands touching the leather seats as we go. She taps me once we’re in the middle before pointing to the right side.
We sit and stuff our bags under the seats as I let out a steadying breath, trying to process.
Three days ago, I was getting engaged, then breaking up with the love of my life, before now finding myself on a bus heading to my worst fucking nightmare, because I may or may not be safe from a man I never really knew.
I couldn’t write this. It’s wilder than fiction.
I don’t know what the expression on my face is, but my sister touches my shoulder.
“You’re not going to suddenly jump out of the window and fight the Viking for your phone, are you?”
I shake my head. “No. His wingspan is unconquerable . . . But I might sleep for another three days, if you don’t mind.”
She chuckles before her name is called and the engine rumbles to a start. I tap her leg and motion with my head for her to go talk with her colleagues, but she stares at me for another beat.
“Go. Have fun with the other horror weirdos. Don’t worry, I have my thoughts to keep me company.”
“If they get to be too much . . .” she starts, but I knock her shoulder gently with mine.
“I’m okay. No jumping out of windows to spar with the god of thunder, promise.”
She smiles, then stands and makes her way up a couple of rows, where she falls into conversation easily with her work buddies as I stare out a new window with all the same old thoughts.
It doesn’t take long for it to all hit me hard.
I blink a few times, the tears already perched on my lashes, before I discreetly wipe them away and keep staring outside, even though I’m not really looking at anything.
It’s just my cover for ignoring the conversations flowing around me as I go over and over the same bullshit like an emotional sadist.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been driving, maybe twenty minutes, before my sister comes back and sits down.
“Hey,” she says excitedly, my face meeting hers. “So, here’s some interesting info I just got out of the driver. We’re in New Hampshire.”
My brows furrow. “I thought we were going up north?”
Maybe it’s the mention of New Hampshire that’s making the sinking sensation brew in my gut. Or maybe it’s the tall heavy oaks in the forest that are so dense they’re impossible to see through. Either way, I’m already shaking my head.
She grins. “Apparently, we’re heading to some abandoned summer camp not too far over the border. How cool is that?”
As she says it, we turn onto a desolate dirt road fairly hidden by a bank of trees. If I weren’t so scared, the fleeting thought that I’m supposed to be running away from Noah instead of closer to his memory might find root, but it can’t because my heart’s starting to beat too fast.
“No . . . not cool . . . Evie . . . Are you telling me that we are being delivered to the most popular scene out of every eighties horror movie, minus any cell phones . . . to a man who refers to himself as an ‘experience purist’? And don’t tell me there’s a landline because I bet you don’t even know how to use one. ”
She chuckles. It’s the maniacal kind.
“Evie . . .” I press, feeling like I might actually be losing my mind. “We’re going to be hunted or . . . or . . . This is like that movie you love. The one where all the people kill each other.”
She shrugs, smiling. “That’s like every movie I watch. Specificity is the key to communication, Golds.”
My eyes fix to the window again, straining to see out because it almost seems darker out here, as if the stars can’t even shine down. I look back at her.
“We’re gonna die. And the headline will be, ‘A bunch of dumbass bitches got on a bus.’”
Her lips press together actively trying to hide her smile as she stares back at me before she says, “Language.” She’s enjoying my panic. “Relax, Golds. There’s a paper trail . . . tickets sold, and event employees everywhere. Masterminding killers don’t do that.”
I pull the sleeves of my hoodie down over my hands as I hear someone in the front of the bus do a drumroll on the leather seats. The bus bounces over the dirt road, and the sound gathers before everyone starts to celebrate, erupting in howls and clapping just as an arched sign comes into view.
Evie cranes her neck, trying to see, as I tilt my own. I cup my hands around my eyes so I can see out the window better before I miss it.
A giant branded wood sign with carved eagles on totem poles stands tall as we pass underneath. It reads Camp Weonoke, with the tagline Adventure Awaits below it.
I turn my face to Evie, who smiles back.
“‘Adventure awaits,’” she says, wagging her brows.
But something about it makes me shiver. Damn, I think I’d like to sit this one out, but something tells me I won’t get a choice.
As soon as we were ushered off the bus, we were led directly to the bonfire, but not before being handed our camp T-shirts.
“Counselor,” I whisper to Evie as she mouths “Purist” back to me, making me roll my eyes.
I can’t help but keep some part of my body semi-attached to hers as we walk through the darkness toward ten or so logs fashioned as benches and placed in a circle around a firepit that’s already raging.
“Welcome, campers,” a voice bellows, drawing everyone’s attention.
There’s a guy standing on top of one of the makeshift log benches, wearing a red sweat suit with the camp’s name on the shirt. He even has a whistle around his neck.
What the fuck have I agreed to?
Evie starts giggling under her breath as if she’s heard my thoughts.
She takes my hand, grinning at me. “Look, it’s one of your people.”
It’s then I notice that the guy bears a striking resemblance to Ed Sheeran . . . only in hair color.
“My people?” I chuckle.
She smiles wider. “Maybe you guys are related. From the same four-leaf clover bush. He could be your long-lost brother.”
“Well, if he is,” I snark quietly as he begins giving directions, “I will happily trade him for being your sister because I bet he would have rented me a hotel room with his pot of gold.”
She narrows her eyes at me as we stand off in front of our bench, the fire feeling divine.
“Take it back.”
“Nope,” I shoot out, making her raise her brows.
“Okay,” she says with a shrug. “Then I won’t tell you what’s behind you right now.”
My eyes squeeze closed as my shoulders raise. “Evie,” I rush out, too scared to turn around because I know one of her cronies is waiting to make me soil myself. “I swear to god. I’m gonna tell Mom.”
She dusts off invisible dirt from her jeans before slowly sitting down on the log.
“I take it back. I take it back. I take it back,” I squeal, making her laugh as she looks up at me.
“Air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Just air, nerd.”
I let out a huge sigh of relief before I turn over my shoulder, only to jump out of my damn skin because my assumed Irish brethren is standing directly behind me. His green eyes are locked to mine.
“Jesus Christ,” I gasp.
Evie laughs as the Eddie Redmayne look-alike grins while holding out his hand. “Nope, not him. I’m Remus, assistant to the host.”
I take a deep breath and shake his hand. “Goldie Monroe.”
He frowns. “I don’t remember seeing your name on the list. There’s an Evie Monroe . . . What department are you with?”
I grin because I’m lying and that’s not something I’m good at.
“Research and development.”
He stares into my eyes, still holding my hand, before I have to tug it gently away as he tilts his head and smirks.
“Welcome to Camp Weonoke, Goldie. I hope it’s a weekend you’ll never forget.”