30. Thirty
Thirty
Brennon
Parting ways sucked, and breakfast sucked worse.
We still had to keep our distance from each other, feign like last night never happened.
Francis wasn’t even there, but after the revelation that both Mitchell and Stephanie were his little spies, it was impossible not to be a bit suspicious of everyone.
So, I ate and forced myself to ignore every single impulse.
The one to reach for Xav under the table, or the one to kiss the leftover drops of cereal milk off Toni’s lips.
Even the desire to make them laugh, to hear Toni’s loud giggles and Xavi’s nearly silent ones. Nope, none of that.
I spent the whole meal staring at my plate and stuffing syrup-covered pancakes in my mouth.
Okay, that wasn’t exactly a hardship, but it did keep me from cracking jokes.
Then, I’d dragged my butt to the office, where, instead of working, I spent the morning going through the video footage from my cameras.
All the zillion hours of it that I’d captured since the start of staff training.
I scanned through it as quick as I could, only stopping to delete the clips that I was pretty sure were just Riley and Abbi fucking on top of his desk.
And goddamn, were there a lot of those. But otherwise, I didn’t come across anything suspicious, and all the footage did was reinforce how little time Jack actually spent in this building.
Most of the clips of the director were from later in the evenings.
He’d bypass our desks, go straight to his office and slam the door.
Only twice, as far as I could tell, did I catch Francis on the cameras.
Meaning, if they met more often, those meetings weren’t happening here.
It wasn’t until close to lunch time that my tired eyes kept getting pulled from the screen by distractions.
Riley had opened the blinds, ‘so we could get some sunlight,’ he claimed.
A good idea, except every shadow that ran past, tugged at my attention.
Through the window, I could see across the lawn and out to the main road.
After the sixth program staff ran by, I’d finally had enough.
I walked out to the deck just in time to catch a frantic-looking Hassan as he tried to spring past.
“What’s going on?” I questioned, holding him still.
“One of my campers. He never came back after Picked Programs.”
“Like, he’s missing?”
Hassan swallowed thickly and nodded.
“Fuck.”
“Look, Bren, I’ve got to go. I have to find him.”
“I’ll help,” I offered.
A voice from behind me stopped us both.
“If you’re referring to Jonathan McKnight, there’s no need. His father picked both he and his sister up this morning,” Jack drawled.
“What?! How come no one told me?!”
Hassan wasn’t just annoyed; he was downright pissed. Probably because it was hammered into us over and over again during training that we were being trusted with people’s precious children. So, to lose one, I know for me, would have sent me into a full tailspin.
Jack’s nonchalant response sent shivers up my spine. He didn’t care at all, not about the kid or about Hassan’s feelings, when he was the one who should have cared the most.
“I was going to tell both you and Isabella after lunch,” Jack shrugged, “It didn’t seem urgent.”
“It didn’t seem urgent?!” Hassan yelled, but I grabbed him before he lurched forward. I sympathized with the desire to crack Jack’s jaw.
“Not worth it, man” I whispered to him first before, more loudly, I cautioned, “At least you know the kid is safe.”
Given everything I now knew about Jack, that was a complete and utter bullshit statement.
Less than twenty-four hours since I found out the full truth, and I completely understood why Birdie lied.
Telling the truth here wouldn’t help the kid, and it would only land Hassan in this mess with the rest of us.
Some of the tension leeched out of him. The rest faded as I went on, “Go back to your cabin. I’ll send Cole to come and explain.
” The stare I gave him was so loaded that he stepped back.
He shot one last hateful look at Jack before walking off.
Then, I rounded on the director. He just smirked and slow clapped, “I see you’ve been practicing your patience since Parent’s Day. ”
“Screw you,” I spat, “What happened?”
“Why don’t you go find Mr. Michaels and Ms. Doucouré, so I don’t have to repeat myself.
Abbi was easy. She was in the Section Office and with a two-sentence explanation, she was out of her chair and headed to the Main Office.
Cole was more difficult, considering we were back to not speaking, or even making eye contact.
It was still relatively easy to corner him near the stage in the dining hall.
Lunch was about to start, and kids were slowly filtering in to set the tables.
There was the usual crashing of benches and rattling of cutlery as tables got set that was an easy cover as I grabbed his arm.
He immediately yanked it back, “Watch it,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“I need to talk to you,” I muffled, “Right now.”
Maybe it was my tense posture or some worry that showed on my face, but he just sighed and pointed to the deck.
I followed him outside. He wore an old baseball cap flipped backwards, making him appear like the sports star he was to most people.
To me, he was Cole, and looking at him made my gut swirl uncomfortably.
A sensation I was pretty sure had everything to do with what went down between us.
And the fact that despite so many secrets coming to the surface last night, I’d still held back and kept my encounter with him a secret from Birdie and Xav.
So that churning. Yeah, it was guilt. Plain, simple, ugly guilt.
At the edge of the deck, Cole stared out across the Centre Circle.
Groups of kids waved to him as they headed into the dining hall, shouting “Hi!” or “Hey, Cole!” as they passed.
He waved back and greeted every last one, somehow managing to sound cheerful even though his stiff posture radiated tension.
“Spit it out,” he hissed at me once there was no one around to hear it.
“Cole, I…” my voice cracked so badly. That fucking guilt again, when I hadn’t even done anything to feel guilty about.
I swiped my hand down my face, trying to get my thoughts straight.
Ha. Now there’s a joke. There was no good way to tell him this.
I was probably about to get my ass beat.
Resigned, I blew out a long breath and dove in, “Last night, Toni, Xavi, and I-”
“Stop,” he snarled.
“But Cole-”
“No, I don’t want to know.” His voice was low and shaky. With the hall behind us full of kids, he couldn’t exactly freak out at me without most of Camp seeing it. “If it involves all three of you, together, then I don’t want to know. Not ever,” he spat.
“But Cole,” I tried again, “I thought after-” I wasn’t even sure what I thought. My mouth was moving faster than my brain.
“You thought what? After what?” His lips pressed into a flat line and his brown eyes bore down on me like they were pressed for an answer.
“Nothing, I guess.”
It felt like both the answer he wanted and a punch to the gut. It probably would have been easier to take if he had just punched me.
“That’s right, it was nothing.”
He turned to retreat inside but I grabbed the football jersey he wore, “Wait, that wasn’t all!”
His eyes flashed to my hand. I let go immediately, shoving it into my pocket so he wouldn’t rip it off.
“Jack wants to see you and Abbi!” I blurted.
“About what?”
“A couple of kids were picked up this morning.”
“Who?” He barked.
“Uh,” the nerves over talking to Cole had pushed thoughts of Jack to the back of my mind, “McKnight, maybe. I think.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
He finally did shove me. Not to start a fight, but to get me out of his way. He took off, and I followed, pausing only as I passed a very confused looking Michele.
Skidding to a stop, I begged “Can you do meal announcements?”
I didn’t even wait for her to answer. There was no way this was going to be a quick chat, not judging by Cole’s reaction. And at least this way, the rest of Camp and all the kids wouldn’t realize that half the senior staff team was basically imploding.
Fuck Jack Walker. The conversation went quicker than I anticipated.
Mostly because Jack fed us some story about the kid’s dad coming to pick them up.
It sounded a whole lot like the lies he’d fed us about Holly.
Once again, I wanted to kick myself for being such a dipshit last summer, for not listening to Birdie or Xav.
Cole practically ripped Jack’s office door from his hinges when he stormed out of there. Abbi wasn’t much happier. She chewed the insides of her cheek to keep from shouting, as he explained that both Jonathan and Alison had taken home early.
“Why?” Demanded Abbi.
“Because he’s their father and he can do what he wants, Ms. Doucouré.” The use of her surname turned her from frustrated to downright salty.
“You didn’t bother to ask for a reason?”
Jack rolled his shoulders back, “Once again, Abigail, he is their father and does not need to give a reason.”
It was at that point that Cole left. Jack dismissed Abbi and I right after. Abbi headed straight for the door, but I stopped her as soon as I heard Jack’s office latch closed.
“Hold on!” I waved her over to my desk.
“What is it?” She sighed, but approached, “This better not be some bullshit ask about my girl.”
“About my girl, you mean?” I winked and her eyes bugged out. “Let’s just say that your plan to give Toni and Xav some alone time last night majorly backfired. Majorly.”
She huffed, “Yeah, I got that when I came to back to all my stuff ruined. It looked like a scene from Scarface in there.”
I grimaced, knowing I probably left a trail of Francis’ blood across her cabin floor. Not to mention the phosphorous, “Yeah, sorry about that, but at least I was there to save the day.”
“Bullshit.”