Chapter 6 #2
Jasmine leaned in, lowering her voice. “I’m going to assume a bear got her,” she said, eyes twinkling. “One Legacy down, fifteen to go…”
The others didn’t laugh. They just looked uncomfortable.
“Guys, I’m kidding!” Jasmine said, throwing her hands up. “I can’t stand those assholes, but it doesn’t mean I actually want them dead.”
“I get it,” Tamsin said. “It’s just… one of them really did die not so long ago, so maybe it’s a little too soon for a joke like that?”
Jasmine cringed. “Shit. Gen. I completely forgot,” she said, head shaking. “No idea how I managed that. I only heard about it yesterday.”
A lull settled over the table after that, the conversation tapering off into the quiet of people who'd eaten well and were too tired to manufacture any more energy.
Around us, the dining hall was thinning out, kids being shepherded back toward cabins by counselors who looked about as exhausted as I felt.
There was no secret campfire tonight. Zach and Knox had floated the idea earlier, but they were met with a unanimous lack of enthusiasm from the others, who seemed to be operating on the same unspoken agreement: tonight should be an early night.
I could get behind that.
But what I couldn’t get behind was the particular hollow feeling that took up residence beneath my ribs a couple of hours later, once the girls in my cabin were tucked into bed and swapping stories before lights out.
Jasmine and I were stretched out on our bunks behind the partition, quietly reading.
“I’m kinda hungry,” I said, glancing over at her. “Are you up for a trip to the Snack Shed?”
She shook her head, smothering a yawn. “I’m pretty tired already. And I’m still stuffed from dinner.”
“Okay,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I slipped my shoes on and headed out to the main part of the cabin to tell the girls I was going to the bathroom.
The path to the Snack Shed was quiet and dark, the only illumination coming from the small circle of my phone flashlight.
Somewhere in the distance, an owl made its presence known.
I started walking faster, not because I was scared of birds, but because the temperature had dropped sharply and I'd made the rookie mistake of leaving my jacket in the cabin.
After fumbling in the dark with the keys on my lanyard, I unlocked the Snack Shed door, pushed it open, and stepped inside, pulling it shut behind me.
I located the exact type of chocolate I was craving without having to look very hard, and then I leaned against the shelf on my left, breaking three squares off the block and eating it in the peaceful silence.
Just as I broke off a fourth square of chocolate, the door creaked open behind me. I spun around so fast I dropped the rest of the block.
Rhys was standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame.
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack!” I said breathlessly.
“I’m not that scary, am I?” Rhys said, lips curving in a wicked grin. He pushed off the frame and took a step closer. “Unless… maybe Zach was right earlier. Maybe I’m the son of the Woodsman.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you know that?”
“Well, firstly, your father is Rohan Usher, not Edward Stryker. And secondly, as we established earlier, Edward Stryker wasn’t even a real person.”
“How do you know my dad’s name?” Rhys asked, lifting a brow. “Been looking into me?”
“Of course not,” I said indignantly, even though I’d spent more time than I cared to admit Googling him before I went to sleep last night. “I just… I heard someone talking about your family.”
“Oh yeah?” He cocked his head. “Who?”
“Um… Jasmine. She was saying they own Northgate Telecom,” I said. Then I hurriedly changed the subject before he had a chance to realize I was only telling a half-truth. “God, my heart is still racing. You really freaked me out."
Rhys’s smirk reappeared. “I think you like being scared.”
“Um...” I blinked, pulse suddenly kicking harder. “Why would you think that?”
“Just an impression I get.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and it took me a second to realize why.
His hand lifted slowly, like he already knew I wasn’t going to stop him. Then his thumb brushed the corner of my lip, and my breath hitched.
“Got it,” he said softly, eyes still on my mouth. “Chocolate.”
I was suddenly very aware of how close he was. Close enough that if I leaned forward even slightly…
Don’t, some functional part of my brain attempted to interject. This is an obvious move.
And just like that, I thought about Tamsin. Four Milky Way bars. One Jensen Hornbacher. Zero resistance despite knowing full well that she couldn't stand the guy.
I could see exactly what she meant now. These Legacy guys really seemed to have a certain quality that made women’s brains bypass rationality and go straight for the part that made terrible decisions.
Old money confidence, probably. It showed in every movement, every well-timed smirk, every casual invasion of personal space.
Rhys finally lowered his hand, but the space between us didn’t change. If anything, it felt smaller now. Charged in a way that made my skin feel too tight.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I guess I’m a messy eater.”
“Me too,” he replied. The way he said it made heat curl low in my stomach.
I swallowed hard and bent down to pick up the chocolate block I'd dropped before straightening up with what I hoped was a normal amount of composure. Rhys was still staring straight at me.
I let out a small, awkward laugh in an attempt to defuse the tension. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. “Is there still chocolate on my face?”
“No.” He shook his head, brows drawing into a slight frown. “I just haven’t figured you out yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not like the others.”
I let out a soft laugh. “You’re seriously using that old ‘you’re not like the other girls’ line on me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I just meant you’re not like the other counselors here.”
“How come?”
“We all fit into two categories. But you…” He trailed off, rubbing his jaw. “You don’t really fit in either one. So I haven’t quite figured out what you’re doing at Blackpine.”
I swallowed nervously. “I already told you how I ended up here,” I said. “Last night. Remember?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“So… what? My explanation didn’t make sense to you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and airy.
“It did,” he said. “I guess there’s just something about you.”
“Another line,” I said, letting out a sarcastic laugh in the hope it would cover my nervousness.
Rhys didn't laugh. He took another short step forward, closing the remaining distance between us, and lifted his hand again.
His thumb brushed the corner of my lip a second time, lighter than before, barely a touch. His eyes lifted to mine. Then he leaned in, close enough that his hot breath skimmed my ear.
“If I really wanted to have you right now,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t need a line.”
He pulled back, just enough to look at me as the words landed. His expression was still one of measured calm, like he hadn't just said something that sucked all the air out of the shed.
Then he reached past me, took a candy bar from the shelf, and turned around. “Night, Alissa.”
With that, he was gone.
I didn't move for a good twenty seconds, which was approximately how long it took for my brain to fully switch back on. Every nerve ending I had was wide awake, my pulse was racing, and the corner of my mouth felt like it had been marked somehow.
I hated to admit it… but Rhys was right.