Dead of Summer

“Can I ask you something?” His words catch me off guard, and all I can do is lift one incredulous brow in his direction. He knows he has the power here. He can ask or tell me anything he wants, and I have to take it without complaint.

“What?” I mutter, when it’s clear he’s waiting for some kind of verbal acknowledgment of the question.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll hurt you?” His fingers tighten just a bit more, until I’m sure that tomorrow, the pale skin just above my hip bones will be littered with bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. “Summer…” He leans forward, his jaw brushing against mine and causing my breath to hitch in my throat before he whispers, so sweetly my teeth hurt, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you? You didn’t make me promise not to hurt you. Not to really hurt you, sweetheart.” He drags my body away from the wall, just enough that all the space between us disappears.

Suddenly, I’m pressed flush against Kayde Lane, his hands keeping me anchored in place as he pulls away just enough for me to see the completely manic, terrifying grin crawling over his features. “Why in the world would you agree to play with me without even giving me rules, hmm?”

When he doesn’t go on, I realize it’s a real question. He’s actually asking, though it feels like a rhetorical question to me.

“Because…” I didn’t think about it is such a bad answer. Kinsley would scream at me if she knew what I’d done, and he’s right. I could’ve—should’ve—put some limitations on this. “Because if I had, if I’d told you what you could or couldn’t do, would you have agreed?” I ask finally, eyes on his.

Kayde, for his part, just looks at me. His grip loosens just a touch, until it doesn’t feel so bruising, and the terrifying, manic smile fades to something more…thoughtful. For a few moments, the only sound in the shower house is the water cascading down on both of us, running over his shoulders and down to where our bodies are pressed together. Where I’m trying not to think about.

“Smart girl,” he murmurs at last, a touch of pride in his voice. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, Summer. Otherwise you wouldn’t be my final girl. My little lone survivor who so desperately wants to come out of this without too much trauma. Perfect little sweetheart.” What starts as praise turns progressively meaner, though his voice retains the same too-friendly edge.

“But you really should know…” He leans forward again, until his lips brush mine with every word. “I’m looking forward to making you regret your lack of rules for our game.” Without hesitation he bites down hard on my lower lip, and it’s all I can do to hold back a shriek as blood trickles onto my tongue amidst his chuckling purr. I cross my fingers that this is at least somewhat a bluff on his part.

Even though we both know it really, definitely isn’t.

CHAPTER NINE

My heart pounds in my throat as I try to think of a reply. As I try to figure out if there’s a way for me to murder him with the shower head, Kayde just fucking stares at me like he can see every little thought going through my head. And hell, maybe I’m just so readable that he absolutely can.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” he teases at last, sparking both anger and fear in my chest. My fingers dig into my palms at my sides, and I wish I could burn him with the heat of my hatred. His hands move up my sides, smoothing over my skin, and my breath hitching in my throat is just another betrayal on the list of them for the night.

Sure enough, his eyes flick up to mine at the soft, barely audible sound. For the first time, I let my gaze dip, looking at the planes of his chest and the faint outline of muscles in his abdomen. Curiosity pulls my eyes lower, to the sharp v of his hips that I feel like I could cut myself on, if I’m not careful where I press my fingers.

Not that I want to touch him.

We’re too close for me to see much more than the trail of blond hair that leads dangerously lower, and seeing his tan skin flush to mine just serves to remind me how little space there really is between us. It’s hard not to pinpoint exactly where we’re pressed together, but I force my gaze away from his body and back up to his face.

“If your goal is ruining my shower, then you’re doing a good job of it,” I say at last, my words careful and deliberate. “This is definitely my favorite time of the night, and I have maybe fifteen minutes of hot water left.” I try hard not to shift away from him, or look like I even notice all of the places his skin brushes against mine.

It’s horrifying.

It’s intoxicating.

One of his hands comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb running sweetly over my bottom lip as he just fucking looks at me. His eyes are as unreadable as always, and shine with something other than the dark amusement that I always seem to find there when we’re alone.

“I’m not telling you no,” I add quickly, wondering if that’s how my words have come across. “I’m not…” For good measure I reach out to grip his wrist in a loose grip. “I’m not telling you to leave. I’m just?—”

“Baby girl, I know exactly what you’re doing,” he assures me. “It’s okay to be afraid of me. I’d be concerned if you weren’t.” God, I hate how supportive he makes such an awful thing sound. “And don’t worry.” Again he leans forward, brushing his lips to my forehead as he adds, “I’ll give you plenty of reasons to be afraid of me over the next few days. I promise.”

My mouth opens, though I have no idea what I’m going to say, but the sound of footsteps draws my horrified gaze upward, eyes wide as I stare at Kayde.

“That you, Liza?” Darcy’s voice is bored and irritation laces the edges of it.

I don’t answer. I can’t answer as both of us listen to the sound of her picking a shower stall and turning on the water. At least, until Kayde’s brows jerk upward expectantly, a smirk quirking at his lips. Answer her, he mouths, and I hesitate.

I can’t not answer her. I know that. If I don’t, there’s a good chance she’ll come over to see if there’s a dead body in the shower, and then she’ll find us.

I can’t let her find me like this.

“No,” I reply a little too quickly, still unable to move, “it’s me.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment is audible, and it’s a fight not to roll my eyes. When she doesn’t continue, I breathe a soft sigh of relief, wondering how in the world I’m going to get out of here without her noticing Kayde.

Before I can say that, however, or see if Kayde has an idea for us to leave, I realize his hands are moving, circling my waist until he’s pushing me flush with the wall.