Dead of Summer - Page 119

It’s nice.

The kayak barely moves as Kayde settles, but I still suck in a breath, my stomach rolling. “Wow, okay, this is awful,” I whisper, taking the paddle and laying it across my lap. I can feel myself trembling slightly, and I can only hope it isn’t noticeable to the other occupant of the kayak.

“It’s not awful. You’re fine.” I definitely hadn’t meant for him to hear me, and my shoulders stiffen as I try not to look at him. “Hey.” He presses a hand to my shoulder, then pushes us away from the shore. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The movement is smooth, but abrupt enough that I clench the paddle in my lap and hunch forward, like this really is my first time. “I’m not this bad,” I mutter, half to myself. “Come on, Summer. You really don’t suck this much.”

My anxiety and the nerves tingling in my fingers say otherwise, but at least Kayde doesn’t comment. He just smoothly keeps us in a small area, waiting for Liza to finish helping the last of the campers into their own kayaks. Our job is to corral them, keeping them from starting down the river too soon and helping them stay afloat.

Not that my cabin needs it, I notice with a touch of pride. All my girls know what they’re doing, and move comfortably in this area of the river instead of flailing around or nearly dumping themselves. If only I could do the same.

“You ready to sit back and enjoy the ride?” Kayde hums as Liza shoves her own kayak into the water.

“Is that what I get to do?” I ask, turning to glance over my shoulder at Kayde. “Just take a nap?”

His grin is wolfish, and he dips a quick nod in my direction. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he promises me. “Just lay back and take a nap. No problem.”

While I don’t take a nap on our trip down the river, I’m a lot less stressed than I’d expected to be. Kayde is good at this, though probably not quite as skilled as Liza. Not that I plan on telling him that. But unlike her, he works to make it as non-terrifying to me as possible.

It’s touching, in a way that makes my skin prickle under his constant gaze.

Melody and Lily kayak beside us for most of the trip, and it would take an idiot not to see her admiration for Kayde growing every day.

“Told you this wouldn’t be so bad,” Kayde tells me as we paddle in a small circle near where the kids are carefully, mostly, getting out of their kayaks and pulling them back up onto the shore. “You had a little fun, right?”

Not really. I’d been too busy clenching the paddle the whole time and trying not to hyperventilate. But I make some kind of mutter of agreement, and help him push our kayak as close to the store as we can. I’m out first this time, determined to be somewhat useful, and the moment Kayde’s feet splash in the shallows, I’ve gripped the kayak and started dragging it toward the shore properly. The weight lessens, and I glance behind me to see Kayde picking up the other end of it, his withering gaze back on me like I should know better.

“I may be freaking out, but I’m not an invalid,” I inform him crisply, my eyebrows lifting toward my bangs. “I promise I’m not that delicate.”

“You’re my delicate princess,” Kayde teases. “And I won’t let you just carry this on your own. Be real. Liza would eviscerate me.” I can’t exactly argue with that, I realize, so I don’t try.

A yell catches my attention, though I don’t think much of it considering how close we are to the main part of Camp Crestview. Kids yell and scream and squawk on occasion, and I’ve even had kids do dead-on imitations of a dying moose.

But when the yell comes again, I realize that it’s not a kid.

It’s Kinsley.

My head jerks up and from the corner of my eye, I see Liza pause, turning toward the path back to camp, like she’s recognized Kinsley’s scream as well.

“Kins?” I call, dropping the kayak and striding forward. Trees separate us from the camp, and I see a flurry of movement just before Kinsley comes into view, sprinting toward the river with a pale face, wide eyes, and hands held up like they’re burning.

But Kinsley isn’t on fire.

She’s covered in blood.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

“Oh, my god.” The words leave me in a tumble and I lurch forward, only slightly feeling Kayde’s hand as he reaches out for me and only manages to brush my arm. “Kinsley!” Her name leaves me in a shriek, and as fast as I can, I close the distance between us until my hands are on her, my heart pounding as I look for the source of the bleeding.

“It’s not—It’s not—” She takes a deep breath and looks over my shoulder at Liza. “You gotta go. We called an ambulance but, you have to go to your cabin. Please.” She looks shaky and terrified, and turns her gaze back to me like I have the answers that’ll make this better. “I didn’t know what to do,” she murmurs. “I think—I don’t know if we should’ve left her?—”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” God, I need to know what’s happened. My heart hammers in my chest, and I glance around me to where Daniel and Kayde are standing, keeping the other kids back.

Kinsley can’t be out here covered in blood. Some of the campers are already starting to freak out, and too many of them have already seen her.

“Melody!” I call, looking over my shoulder toward my group of girls. She immediately steps forward, her eyes wary as they search my face. “Take the girls back to the cabin. Find Kinsley’s girls too. You know who they are, right?” When she nods, I’m grateful. “Actually, take them and yourselves to Otter Hall.” My mind scrambles to figure out what to do in the situation, and once Melody is moving, I look at Daniel and Kayde. “Take everyone to Otter Hall, okay? Keep them away from…” I trail off, not wanting to really give the kids any more nightmares or clue of what’s going on.

“I’m taking Kinsley back to Liza’s cabin.” Without thinking, I yank my tank top over my head, leaving me in my black swim top and shorts. My hands and arms are bloody, and I use my shirt to clean off what I can before handing the bundle of cloth to Kinsley and prompting her to do the same.