Chapter 7
Kinsley
Chapter Seven
As soon as I returned to the party, I changed my mind. I made a quick look around to find Connor, but when he was nowhere to be seen, I just sent him a text to say that I was leaving and asked him to give my goodbyes to the others. I had enough social interactions for a day; all I needed was a good sleep. I pushed myself through the crowd, making my way around the dance area while trying to avoid any possible interaction. I pulled out my phone and checked the location of my laptop to know which way to go before I turned toward the forest. It was the only way back to the Rhodes’s house that wouldn’t take an hour on foot.
I stopped at the edge of the woods and glared up at the canopy of the 230-foot-tall trees. The shadows they cast hovered over me and made me hesitate. The summer breeze tickled my cheeks before it went to dance between the trees, moving their branches on its way. The music seemed to quieten when my senses turned toward the woods, and I studied its darkness. I took a deep breath, and without glancing back to where the party was with the safety of the familiar faces, I moved.
Maybe it was only in my mind that I felt a creeping feeling up my spine as I got closer to the silent trees. I reached for my phone and turned the flashlight on to see my steps, when a branch broke in two under my shoe, making my heart rattle in my chest. It might have been the adrenaline in me or the alcohol that made me ignore all the warnings of my brain and let me move on, in the direction I knew the Rhodes’s house had to be. The pale moonlight didn’t follow me into the pitch-black forest. It stayed at the party for the people to dance in, leaving me on my own with only my phone and my not-so-useful senses.
My mind went back into the house, to the hallway where Thomas had me with my back to the wall. Him calling me by my old nickname made me feel a lot of things at once, which I hated. I felt weak because of the way my body reacted to it; I felt angry and happy and confused by the way he acted so out of his character. I thought back to last fall when we first started to compete with each other in history class. He was a year above me, and I could have sworn he only came into that class to annoy me during his free periods. I don’t know why else he would have joined our class. He was the professor’s favorite and almost always beat me to answer his questions. Then he had the audacity to call me Sage. As if defeating me wasn’t enough proof that I was indeed not that wise.
At the same time, I felt excitement tickling my stomach. The last time he played with me like this was in February, before our parents announced they were moving in with each other. This was of course on the same day they brought us up to speed by telling us they met in December and had been dating for a month now. I don’t think I have been more surprised than when I went with my mom to meet her new boyfriend’s family and was seated next to the smug boy from my college history class.
A sudden creeping feeling, the same I felt on the edge of the woods, brought me back to the present. I felt it crawling back to me as the hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I needed all my strength not to look back. That would have been the worst thing to do. If I had learned anything useful from my crime journalist mentor, it was to never look back or show that you suspect that someone is following you. Creeps are mostly like animals; they enjoy the hunt. So instead of running, I quickened my steps.
The ground was dry, and the pine needles crunched under my shoes. I moved the flashlight higher so I could see more ahead of me. There were never-ending trees surrounding me. The house had to be here, somewhere. I knew it. I confidently continued following the path I was on. I unlocked my phone and tried to check the map, but there was no signal. I heard a branch shatter to my right, and I stilled. I jerked my head toward where the sound came from, my brain screaming at my legs to move, but they didn’t. I was a statue, listening. I raised my phone to try to find whoever or whatever was there, but the forest stayed silent. Still.
My crime journalist mentor would be very disappointed in me right about now. I shook my head, straightened my spine, and let out a frustrated breath. Maybe it was just my imagination playing with me or a deer running by, but before I could fully convince myself, another branch broke, and this time, footsteps followed. I was ready to attack anyone or anything with my phone still raised, but then a hand reached around from behind and slipped in front of my mouth, silencing an eruptive scream. I tried to get away from whoever had grabbed me by pushing and kicking my feet, but the arm around my waist was firm as he pulled me behind a tree’s trunk.
“Shh.” He breathed into my ear, while I was still struggling. “It’s all right.” His voice sounded like he was out of breath. “Sage, it’s just me, you are all right.” I recognized the soothing voice. Thomas. I let out a relieved breath and stopped fighting. “I will let you go, but you need to stay quiet. Can you do that?” I nodded, questioning all my sanity for coming here alone.
Thomas’s hand slipped away from my mouth, and I turned around, resting my back against the mossed trunk of the tree. “Why were you following me?” I hissed, and he gave me a rigid look to stay quiet.
“I told you the forest wasn’t safe,” he growled back.
“It seemed safe until you came,” I lied, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were searching the shadows around us. “Why were you following me?” I repeated my question with a frown, and Thomas’s eyes refocused on me.
“I wasn’t following you. I saw someone else come into the woods, and when Connor told me you sent him a text saying you were heading back to the house, I-I didn’t want to take any chances.”
At least I knew Connor got my message. I let out a breath. So, when I felt someone following me, it really could have been some creep. I shivered, lifting my eyes back to Thomas. “You scared me,” I said, and his gaze darkened.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was raspy, and I raised my brows in surprise. I have never heard him apologize before. The only logical explanation was that he was lying about not being drunk, and he was actually wasted. “But I don’t think the person I saw left the forest,” he added, looking around.
I didn’t think we were alone either. I definitely felt someone following me. It could have been Thomas, yes, but it could have been whoever it was he saw. I wasn’t sure that the sound of the broken branch came from the same direction Thomas did.
“The house is half a mile from here, you just have to follow the path you were on.” His eyes never left mine as he spoke.
I glanced toward the darkened path ahead covered with shadows and shook my head when an owl hooted. There was no way I was going to walk back to the house alone after this. Especially not since I had sobered up. The forest might have seemed creepy, but it was way more comforting with Thomas being here, and way scarier alone. “It’s better if I stay,” I said. “You want to look around, don’t you?” It was not really a question because I already knew the answer. “Who better to help than me?” I added, feeling my courage coming back to me.
“You are a crime journalist major, not a detective, Kinsley,” Thomas answered in a lecturing voice. “Don’t mix them up.”
I pursed my lips in annoyance. “I’m not mixing them up, but as far as I know, we are looking around in a fucking forest, not playing Sherlock Holmes,” I hissed. If a drunk person was here alone, they could get themselves injured or worse. And yes, I got the irony of that.
Thomas raised an eyebrow at me, then let out a sigh. “Just stay close.” I motioned with my head in agreement. I could do that.
We searched the woods for what felt like almost an hour, and it was completely empty. Even the animals seemed to have left or have been asleep. Whoever had been there before—if anyone even had been—they had most likely left before we started searching. We walked back to the house in silence. I could already see the moonlight through the trees when Thomas broke the silence.
“Are you hungry?” he asked from behind me, and I shook my head.
“I think I will just go to bed.” I had had enough of this night. I felt like I had aged two years.
I walked up the stairs to the porch, my body feeling heavy from the tiredness, but at least I didn’t feel drunk anymore. Not one bit. My hand was already on the doorknob as I waited for Thomas to get the keys, but when nothing happened, I looked up from my hand to Thomas’s face. He was looking at something over my head, and when I followed the direction of his gaze, my stomach dropped. There was a note on the door. A tiny piece of paper glued to the glass. I leaned closer with a frown, and I could feel the warmth leaving my body as I read what was scribbled on the paper.
I gazed up at Thomas to see his reaction, but instead of seeing the same surprise on his face that had taken over me, he didn’t look shocked at all.