Dead of Summer - Page 106

He steps over the duffel bag, closing in on me again. “I think that I’m not nearly the scariest thing out there. Or the quietest,” he breathes, face close to mine. “And you should remember that, too.” His eyes blaze a warning that finally sinks in, and I bite my lower lip.

Do I believe him?

That’s the million dollar question I can’t stop from running through my head on repeat.

“Do you think I believe you?” I don't know how I expect it to come out. Kinsley would be offended if I ever asked her that.

But Kayde…isn’t Kinsley. He searches my face in the dim light, then reaches up to stroke his knuckles down my cheek. “No,” he sighs finally, a wry grin on his face. “But I think you want to. I can’t DNA print that duffel bag for you to prove the shit inside isn’t mine. All I can do is tell you that it isn’t.”

I can’t know that for sure. But he’s definitely right about one thing. I want to believe him. Hesitantly, I reach up, my fingers grazing his chin. “Tell me again,” I demand, panic still thrumming in my veins.

He reaches up and grasps my wrist lightly, leaning in until his nose brushes mine. “That shit is not mine, Summer,” he promises quietly. “But it’s someone’s. And I’d like to be far from here when they come to get it.”

Belatedly, I realize that we’re at the farthest point from the populated areas of Camp Crestview that we can be while still on the property, and that’s the only saving grace to finding this. Though, that’s not really that much of a good thing, if I consider all the details.

And I have to decide now if I’m going to believe Kayde or not.

“If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you.” The words aren’t teasing. They aren’t meant to be cute or funny or provoke a heat-fueled reaction from him.

They’re just a promise.

“I’ll tell Kinsley if I have to. And we’ll kill you before we let you touch any of our kids.”

“I know, baby girl.” His wry grin returns, and he presses his forehead to mine. “But I’m not lying to you. I promise.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Ishould feel trapped and uneasy.

I shouldn’t believe him.

Being in a car with Kayde, which is his car though he won’t give me an answer about why he Ubered that first day of this camp session, should absolutely make me feel like I’m a victim being kidnapped.

I shouldn’t believe him.

But the comfortable silence is broken only by the music filling the silence between us. So with my window cranked down and my sunglasses jammed over my face, I lean back against the headrest of the truck with a sigh.

God, I really shouldn’t believe him.

But I do.

“This song choice is abysmal,” I mumble, my eyes closed as the wind whistles in through the window and blows against my face. “Like, if this is coincidence, it’s probably fate telling me something.”

Kayde chuckles, the sound barely audible over the words of “Psycho Killer” circulating through the car before being snatched away by the wind. “It’s a coincidence,” he assures me, and reaches out to touch the screen of the console to skip the rest of the song.

Not that “Tainted Love” is much better. I snort and turn my head to face him as my brows climb toward my bangs. “Really?” I ask, voice deadpan. “Did you make this playlist just for today?”

“This is my usual playlist. Not my fault it’s out to get me today.” He pulls into the parking lot of the general store, just inside town, and I straighten in my seat. We aren’t far from camp, and I’ve made this trip before in Kinsley’s car. Once or twice a summer, we normally end up underestimating our supplies of something, like marshmallows, and end up here to grab another case of them.

It’s just luck that this year, we needed them and it worked out for us. That’s what Kayde had said, anyway, when he’d aggressively volunteered us to go into town this morning at breakfast. I’d tried to protest, only to get a sharp pinch to my thigh.

Later, in private, Kayde had explained that he and I were the best ones to ask around about any new faces or suspicious interactions, so we should take the opportunity fate provided.

“You think we did the right thing?” I ask, not for the first time. “Telling Kinsley and Liza that we think there’s a stranger stalking around?”

“I think leaving out the bag of weapons was the right thing, yes,” Kayde tells me. “Where did you put it?”

It being the duffel bag that I’d run back to grab at the last minute. Kayde hadn’t been a huge fan of the idea, but I’d told him I wasn’t going to leave a bunch of weapons lying out there for a killer to use or a kid to find.