Dead of Summer - Page 131
“You don’t notice anything when you’re following her,” Grey argues sweetly. “You didn’t notice me for a long time that night we met. And you haven’t noticed him either. Which is kind of pathetic, since you’re a lot better at this game than him.”
This isn’t a game, I want to remind them, but I can barely focus on anything more than Shawn.
“So you’ll leave now?” Kayde asks, his attention never leaving Grey. “You’ve gotten what you wanted, right?”
“Mostly. I’d still like to see how this ends,” Grey admits. “I’ll leave in the morning, your majesty. Never to be seen again.” But he smiles on the words, like there’s an inside joke I’m missing.
“What were you even doing here?” I can’t help but ask the question, and I lean forward as much as Kayde will allow. I want to grab onto Kayde and never let go; to break down and have him tell me it’s okay, that he’ll take care of everything.
I want to watch him hurt Shawn.
But I refuse to let those thoughts do more than whisper in my brain before pushing them away, a frown touching my lips. “Why Camp Crestview?”
“Well, I don’t kill kids, if that’s what you’re implying,” Grey is quick to tell me, holding one hand up in half-surrender. “That’s never what I was here for. Actually, I wouldn’t have stopped here at all if not for him.” He nods at Kayde, who shifts behind me. “He’s kind of famous, you know. To some of us. A bus crash turning someone into a serial killer?” Grey shakes his head. “There are bets about whether he’d killed someone before the accident, or the crash just fucked him up in the head.”
“And which side are you on?” Kayde murmurs, amusement tinging his tone.
Grey’s grin widens. “That you were born fucked up, just like me. And just like your little camper, who’s so fond of you both.”
That has my head snapping up, eyes wide. “You mean Melody.” It isn’t a question, though the words leave me discomforted all the same. “You both think she’s, what, some kind of monster? But how in the world can you know that, when she’s twelve?”
They share a look that I feel completely left out of, before Grey tilts his head to the side once more, thoughtful. “Like recognizes like,” he shrugs finally. “I’ve seen the way she looks at some of the boys. She’s going to grow up to be some kind of black widow. Mark my words. And have you not seen the way she manipulates everyone?”
“She’s…a good leader. She’s just mature and well spoken,” I argue, the words automatic. But deep down, I know it’s more than that.
And maybe I’ve always known.
“She’s a sociopath like him,” Grey nods at Kayde. “Don’t be naïve, Summer. It’s not a good look on someone dating a killer.”
“Aren’t you a sociopath too?” It’s the curiosity that makes me ask, though I’m not so sure I want to know.
“He’s a psychopath,” Kayde mutters. “Not a sociopath like me. Narcissistic, or sadistic?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” But Grey preens under Kayde’s words as if they’re the highest form of praise. “Try not to ruin her or change her, okay? I like her. She’s going to grow up to be an absolute monster.”
“How would you know?” Something occurs to me, and I close my eyes hard. “Please tell me Melody hasn’t talked to you.”
“We met a few mornings ago,” Grey is eager to tell me. “She knows what I am. As I said, Summer. Like recognizes like. She knows what she is. What we are.” He gestures to Kayde, then himself. “Maybe if you’re not fast enough, she’ll kill Shawn herself. What is she, twelve?” he squints, thinking. “Yeah, that’s a good age for your first murder?—”
“Stop talking about Mel.” I can’t handle it. There’s no way I can even fathom her killing someone, when it’s not just a joke in my own head. “Or I’m going to, I don’t know, spontaneously combust?”
The two of them trade another look that I don’t love, before Kayde sighs and presses his face against my neck. “Kins and Liza are worried sick,” he murmurs. “They’re out looking for you as well, since they don’t believe Shawn. He said he was calling Fink and the police, but…” Kayde glances up at the sky. “Somehow, I have a feeling that’s not quite true.”
Before I can come up with a reply, my pocket vibrates. Surprised, I pull my phone out of my shorts to look at the newly cracked screen filled with missed texts, calls, and voicemails. “Well, at least it still works,” I mumble, noticing the new text is from a number I don’t have saved. I’m just shocked my phone is still alive, even if the crack is bad enough to spider web across the front and cause me to be careful when I slide my fingers across the glass. I’ll definitely need a new one, as I’m not so convinced there’s not any water rattling around inside the phone waiting to make a nefarious move.
The text contains a picture, and the lungful of oxygen I inhale nearly chokes me as I look at it more closely.
Kinsley lies against a tree, blood trickling from her temple and her face slack. Another text comes in as I try to relearn how to breathe, and it certainly doesn’t help.
Tell anyone and she’s dead. No cops, no Fink. Just us.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my hands shaking. “Fuck!” I jump to my feet, breaking free of Kayde’s hold and nearly falling. “Kayde!” I whirl on him as he stands, holding the phone out to him with quick, jerky motions. Grey doesn’t move. He just watches us from the ground, fingers still trailing over the short hunting knife in his hands.
“Damn it.” Kayde curses softly. “Okay. Do you have any idea where this is?”
“Umm…” I look at the picture again, trying to identify the surroundings of it. “Back near camp, I think? That looks like one of the cabins.” I gesture toward a few logs I can see peeking between two of the trees in the picture.
“All right. Stay with me, Summer. Do you understand?” I’m already nodding, and I grimace at the pain in my legs from the scrapes and abrasions courtesy of Shawn and the river.