Dead of Summer - Page 138

I’m going to die here, under Shawn.

And all I can think about is how upset Kayde will be with me when he finds my body.

The sound gets louder and Shawn jerks his face up, shock registering in his eyes, just as something crashes into him and takes him to the ground away from me.

“Oh.” I murmur, blinking up at the dark sky I can see through the trees. “Well, okay then.” I’m definitely not in my right mind. The pain is dulling slightly, but that’s probably not a great thing considering how much Shawn has hit me and the blood loss. In fact, when I struggle to sit up, my ribs twinge in a way that makes me think they’re cracked, at the very least. The rope feels looser around my hands now, thanks to Shawn, I suppose, and I manage to get one of my hands free to brace my weight as my eyes fall on the scene in front of me.

Kayde saved me, after all. Like I’d hoped he would.

As I watch, he slams his fist against Shawn’s face over and over again, snarling something I can’t understand while he pins him under his weight. But I can’t even pretend to be shocked or upset about it. Shakily, I try to get to my feet, only to fail and drop back down to my knees.

“Okay then,” I mumble, my vision a pinpoint surrounded by blackness. I can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, so I slowly crawl my way over to the tree where Kinsley and Liza are still tied.

But they aren’t looking at me. They’re staring at Kayde, though neither looks particularly horrified by him beating the shit out of Shawn.

“Can you guys help me with this?” I ask when I’m close enough. “I’d actually like to see the show as well. But I figured it’s a little rude to leave you tied up.” I’m rambling now, and lightheadedness is taking over as I fall into Kinsley.

“Holy shit, Summer,” she whispers, looking down at me and trying to writhe free of her ropes. “You’re really not okay. Fuck.”

“Yeah, nope.” I agree, pulling the knife free from my shorts. “Definitely not okay.” I have to focus on what I’m doing with my small amount of vision, and when Kinsley is free, she gently takes the knife from me and does the same for Liza.

Who, naturally, springs straight into action. Tearing her gaze from Kayde and Shawn, she kneels down in front of me, one hand on my wrist as she presses two fingers against my pulse. “Kins, I need your shirt. If you can tear it, do that,” she orders, gently pressing me back.

“I’m fine,” I protest, though I’m sure I’d just said the opposite a few seconds ago. “I’m fiiiine.” I’m so not fine.

Liza just glares at me as Kinsley holds up both pieces of her destroyed shirt, but my brain doesn’t feel like listening to them when I turn my head to look at Kayde and Shawn.

“Don’t you just think he’s so pretty?” I barely know what I’m saying anymore. But at least the pain has dulled, becoming a tingling, unpleasant sensation that’s present all throughout my body. I can barely tell what hurts the worst anymore, though if I had to say, I’d pick my shoulder, just under my collarbone.

Where Shawn had stabbed me, even though he hadn’t committed well enough to keep me down.

“Sure, he’s gorgeous,” Liza agrees flatly, and a moment later, I hiss when one of them presses down hard on the stab wound. “Just keep your eyes on him for me, okay? Don’t go to sleep.”

“Uh, huh.” That feels like it’s going to be harder than it should be, and I realize distantly this is when the shock sets in.

And maybe when I die, if I’m unfortunate enough.

Suddenly Kayde stands, and fists his hand in Shawn’s torn and ragged t-shirt before dragging him toward us across the clearing. Kinsley stiffens, forming a barrier between us, but even I can see that Shawn isn’t in a position to do more than just lay there and sob.

“Tell her you’re fucking sorry,” Kayde hisses, hand in Shawn’s hair to hold him up. “Tell her you’re just some fucking loser who never had a chance with her and needed a reason for your own bullshit. Tell her!” he thunders, voice colder than I’ve ever heard it.

But so is his face, when I manage to look up at him. Kayde is furious, and he’s white under his tan. His hair has come free from its bun and hangs around his face in waves, giving him even more of a feral and unhinged look.

It’s hot as fuck.

And I don’t think that’s the blood loss talking.

“But I’m not…sorry,” Shawn snarls, though he can’t do more than squirm in Kayde’s hold. “I’m not fucking sorry. I’m going to kill her one way or another. She’s already mostly dead, anyway.” Kayde drops him to the ground, flat on his face, and kicks him over onto his back.

“Then if you’re not going to say it, you really don’t need to talk anymore.” The words register in my brain a little late, as does the coldness in them.

I just wish I could warn my friends not to look.

Kayde lifts one foot before slamming his heel down on Shawn’s face, the lack of emotion making it somehow worse. Kinsley screams, her face in her hands, and even Liza looks away sharply.

But I…don’t.

I watch as he lifts his shoe to do it again.