Chapter 12 #3
A few minutes later, I reached for the tap and shut the water off. The sudden absence of sound made the space feel too quiet again.
“I’m done,” I said, stepping forward.
“Sweet. My turn,” Jasmine replied.
I dried off quickly while she stepped past me, already tugging her shirt over her head.
“You don’t have to turn around, by the way,” she said. “I’ve got zero body hang-ups, so I don’t care. And I’d rather not talk to your back.”
I let out a small laugh. “Fair enough.”
She stripped off the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower. She wet her hair first, tipping her head slightly so it fell in a heavy curtain over her left shoulder.
That was when I noticed her neck.
A cluster of angry red scratches ran along the right side of it. Some of them were shallow, while others were deeper, like they’d broken the skin. A couple were faintly scabbed over.
A horrible intrusive image suddenly flashed through my mind: Jasmine, furious, snapping like she said she always did. Hands grabbing, shoving. Delia clawing at her, trying to get away before stumbling backward and hitting the wire that triggered the harpoon.
I blinked hard, like I could physically force the thought out of my head.
What the hell was wrong with me?
There was no proof that anyone was there when Delia died, or that anyone had pushed her into triggering that trap. And Jasmine… she was my friend. How could I have such horrible thoughts about her?
Guilt twisted sharply in my stomach. This whole situation was messing with my head, making me jumpy and paranoid, but still, that didn’t give me the right to start imagining things like that about her.
I dragged my gaze away, but it was too late. Jasmine had already noticed me staring.
“What’s up?” she asked, one hand lifting to her cheek. “Is there something on my face?”
“No, um… not your face,” I said. “I didn’t notice before, but… your neck. What happened there? Is it some kind of allergy or something?”
Her hand moved down, fingers brushing the marks. “Oh, that,” she said. “No, it’s just a bug bite. Or, like, a bunch of them. Something got me this morning, and it was itchy as hell all day.” She made a face. “I went a bit overboard scratching it.”
Her explanation made perfect sense, which only made me feel worse for where my mind had gone.
“Oh, right,” I said, guilt still churning in my guts. “Must’ve hurt.”
She let out a short, sheepish laugh. “Yeah, it actually bled a little. But the itchiness is gone now, thank god.”
When she was done with her shower, we stepped back out into the night, and the door to the men’s side swung open just as we passed it again.
Rhys stepped out, dragging a shirt down over his head, his hair still wet and pushed back from his face.
For a second, my brain snagged on the sight of him like it wasn’t supposed to; broad shoulders, the lingering line of muscle before the fabric settled into place, droplets of water sliding down to...
I cut the thought off hard. Not now.
“Hey,” he said, glancing between us as he adjusted the hem of his shirt.
“Hey,” Jasmine replied.
I managed a quick nod, keeping my expression neutral. A few seconds later, Jensen pushed out of the same door with a towel slung over his shoulder.
We all fell into step on the path, gravel crunching underfoot as we made our way back toward the cabins. We’d barely made it halfway when someone came hurrying toward us from the opposite direction.
“Maren?” Jasmine said, slowing.
The tall brunette looked slightly out of breath. “Have you guys seen Sloane?” she asked. “I thought she went back to our cabin, but she’s not there.”
“I haven’t seen her since the fire,” I said.
Jasmine nodded. “Same.”
Jensen let out a short huff. “She’s probably still with Reid. Last I saw, he was practically bending her over that log.”
Maren made a face. “Yeah, I figured she went somewhere with him, but I just checked his cabin. Only Chris is there. He assumed Reid was in mine with Sloane.”
A brief silence followed that.
Jensen finally shrugged. “They probably just went somewhere more private. No one wants to fuck in front of their cabinmate.”
“Maybe,” Maren said, but she didn’t sound convinced. Her gaze flicked past us, toward the stretch of trees beyond the path. “I don’t know. With everything that’s been happening… people disappearing isn’t exactly a great sign.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Jasmine said. “They’re probably fine, but we shouldn’t just assume that. We should make sure they’re okay.”
Rhys nodded. “Let’s get everyone back together. We’ll split into pairs and look for them.”
“Half the group’s already gone to bed,” Jensen pointed out.
“Then we’ll wake them up,” Rhys replied without hesitation.
We started walking again, faster this time.
“Spread out,” Rhys said. “Knock on doors.”
“And call out while you’re moving,” Jasmine added. “If Sloane and Reid are close enough, they might hear us and show up before we even need to search.”
“Yeah. Whistle, shout, whatever. It’ll carry. And…” Rhys hesitated. “Make sure everyone has their weapons on them. Just in case. You never know what could happen.”
I followed Jasmine and Maren to the closest girls’ cabin while Logan and Rhys peeled off toward the boys’ section of the camp.
Jasmine rapped on the first door. “Guys?” she shouted. “Sloane and Reid are missing. We need everyone outside. Now!”
Sutton and Noura appeared a moment later, wrapping cardigans around themselves as they slipped on their shoes. Behind us, more doors were opening, voices and footsteps overlapping as the word spread.
Out on the gravel, someone let out a sharp whistle that cut clean through the night. Another voice picked up, calling out Sloane and Reid’s names.
The sound carried, but no answer came back.
Ten minutes later, the whole group was assembled in the main clearing, minus Sloane and Reid. Once again, there was a clear divide, with Legacies standing on one side and Dirtbags on the other.
As I peered around, I noticed that the divide between the two ‘factions’ was even more obvious than usual, because with Piper, Brad, and Olivia gone, Delia dead, and Sloane and Reid missing, the number of Legacies had dwindled from sixteen to nine.
Meanwhile, all of the Dirtbags were present and accounted for.
Jesse stepped forward and started working through our side, pointing as he went to arrange us into pairs.
"I’ll go with Simon. Then we’ve got Cole and Levi.
Devon and Caitlin. Siobhan and Danny. Grayson and Garrett.
Stevie and Marlowe. April and Tamsin. Wren and Jasmine.
” His finger finally drifted over to me and stalled.
“Huh. We have an odd number. I guess you can just go with Jasmine and Wren as a trio?”
Before I could reply, Rhys's voice came from the Legacy side of the group. “We’ve got an odd number too,” he said. “Alissa and I can go together.”
“Works for me,” I replied, because what else was I going to say?
Jesse moved closer to me, voice dropping low. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I honestly thought we had an even number. Are you sure you’re okay going with him?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said.
He looked like he didn't quite believe me, but he let it go.
He moved over to Rhys, and after a hushed conversation, they looked up and began calling out the search assignments. Two to the arts and crafts building. Two to the equipment storage sheds. Two to each cluster of cabins.
Then Rhys looked back at me. “We’re doing the administration building,” he said. “Director’s accommodation and all the offices.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay.”
With that, people began to peel off in their pairs, footsteps scattering across gravel and grass in different directions. I glanced sideways at Rhys, heart pounding. He was looking at the administration building across the grounds, expression unreadable.
He turned his head and caught me looking.
“Well,” he said, cocking a brow. “Let’s go.”