Page 5

FIVE

CAMRYN

I struggle to concentrate during breakfast, in class, or when Benny holds court, telling us all about his progress with the operation, ‘get the popular cheerleader to notice him.’

My brain is in a haze like I’m walking through a dense layer of fog. Everywhere I turn, I feel eyes on me. And to make everything worse, my arm won’t stop itching.

I snap out of my thoughts when Lily, with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, says, “Give up, Benny. So what if Erica and the quarterback are on a break? You know that counts for nothing in the world of the rich and popular. If you lay a finger on her, the football team will come after you.”

We’re seated near the fountain, roasting beneath the unforgiving sun, with no shade in sight. However, it’s better than hiding away inside the muggy hallways that stink of cheap perfume and sweat.

Aron’s floppy raven hair moves in the summer breeze as he pretends to shudder. “I’d listen to him if I were you.”

“Erica won’t look at him twice,” Gwen says with a shrug and gazes out over the students milling about. “He’ll soon learn it the hard way.”

“Why are you reaching above your station anyway?” Brittany asks as she ties back her hair.

Benny glances disbelievingly at her. “Well, jeez, thanks.”

Brittany is unperturbed, letting her freckled shoulders rise and fall. A strand of her pink hair defies gravity and sticks to her damp forehead. “I don’t mean any harm by it. People like us don’t get along with people like them. There’s a hierarchy, and we’re at the bottom.”

Benny narrows his brown eyes. “Who says we’re at the bottom?”

Gwen and Aron chuckle—Gwen with a lollipop in her mouth and Aron with a paper plane he has spent the last couple of minutes perfecting. He sends it flying. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

Lily nods in agreement. “Yes, what are you waiting for?”

“These things require careful planning,” Benny argues as I uncap my bottle and take a large sip of the lukewarm water.

“Sure, sure. We believe you.” Gwen’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“Laugh all you want,” Benny grumbles. “I’ll soon show you how it’s done.”

“When you speak of the devil, he appears, or, in this case, she.” Brittany tips her chin toward the building’s front doors, and we all look over in unison to see Erica and her posse exit in their too-short skirts and high heels that would break my ankle. I’ll admit that she’s stunning with her blonde, cascading hair, which always looks freshly brushed with soft curls, and long, tanned legs. No wonder the boys turn heads when she walks by. As her heels click on the pavement, and her feminine laughter rings like bells, I wonder what it’d be like to receive that kind of attention.

“Damn.” Aron whistles. “I’d nut within seconds if I ever got close to her.”

Gwen pulls a face, and he does a double take before throwing his arms wide and nearly knocking my water bottle out of my hand. “What’s that look for? She’s hot as sin and also fucking scary, okay? At least I admit it, unlike Casanova here”—he jerks his chin in Benny’s direction—“who thinks he stands a chance.”

“Hey, I could last long enough to satisfy a girl like her,” he argues, and Aron snorts, shaking his head.

“Boys, let’s not argue,” Brittany says, biting back a laugh.

Just then, a shadow falls over me, and I look up to see Dominic glaring down at Aron with enough venom in his eyes to make the toughest of men cower. “Move.”

With one fleeting glance in my direction, Aron scoots over as an awkward silence settles over the group. Dominic focuses his burning gaze on me, and my nape breaks out in a cold sweat. I steel my spine, unsettled. “What do you want?”

I’m not used to his full attention like this. Dominic has always avoided me at every turn for as long as I can remember. Now he invades my space as if he has any right to suck the oxygen out of the muggy air. His big build settles between me and Aron, and his arm against mine sets me on fire. “Is that any way to welcome your brother, Sis?”

There’s a cold bite to his tone, a warning that makes my breath catch. The others exchange uncertain glances until he asks them questions to put them at ease. Dominic has always excelled at working the crowd and could fit in anywhere, like a chameleon. This is no different.

I crumple my empty bottle of water and glare at the side of his face until his amused, dark eyes slide in my direction. But I’m prepared for their full-scale invasion this time. Pulling some deep-rooted longing from the depths of me like an anchor from an ocean bed, I rise to my feet and walk away.

I refuse to let him steal this good thing from me. He can use his stupid charm on someone else, not my friends.

His masculine scent follows me as I enter through the front doors. I’m instantly assaulted by the faulty, rattling AC overhead, which should be blowing out cold air but blasting me with heat instead.

“Camryn,” he shouts behind me.

I quicken my steps as I escape around the corner, but I’m not fast enough. He grabs hold of my arm and shoves me against the door behind me. Dark eyes lock onto mine, his grip tight enough to induce a pinch of pain that makes me come alive. I focus on my breath and the rise and fall of my chest.

“He has his eyes on you.”

“Who?”

“The black-haired one.”

“Aron?”

Grinding his molars, he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Shut up.”

Confused, I stare at his rugged face as he slides his hand from my mouth to my neck, feeling my pulse thud heavily beneath his touch. “I don’t want to hear his name on your lips.”

I swallow roughly. “Why do you care all of a sudden?”

“I don’t,” he states, so matter-of-factly that fiery anger rises within me. Instead of cowering, I whisper, “Aron,” and draw out each vowel to provoke a reaction from him.

It works.

He clamps his hand over my mouth and whacks my head against the wall. Then he snarls in my ear, sounding more animal than human. He’s just about to open his mouth when a voice interrupts our silent battle of wills.

Mr. Jones, the human sciences professor, puts his hand on Dominic’s shoulder, and he stiffens against me.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Mr. Barker?” The professor’s firm tone leaves no room for arguing. Dominic’s cold eyes pierce mine for a heartbeat too long. Finally, he steps back, shifting his intense glare to Mr. Jones. Without another glance in my direction, he turns and walks away, leaving a chill in the clammy air.

Mr. Jones watches him leave with a deep-set line across his forehead. Then he turns his attention on me, lingering long enough to make me grow cold despite the heat.

I shrink back against the wall as he removes his hand from his pocket and runs it down the length of his navy tie. He moves closer, his lips curving in a small smile. “Your brother is awfully interested in you.”

“He’s not my brother,” I clarify, looking around, surprised to see the hallway deserted. An overhead light flickers intermittently, yellow and glaring. My head whips left again, trying to locate the sound of a dripping tap.

Mr. Jones hums, his sickly scent of sweat and tobacco mixing with something else. Something that draws my attention back to his pock-marked face and graying beard.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trapped against the wall with nowhere to escape.

Sulfur and ash prick my nose as he leans in to whisper in my ear, “His obsession with you is delicious. I can almost taste the jealousy on my tongue.” He begins to chuckle, the eerie sound growing in volume until it seems to echo all around me. But then he grows still—so still that fear sinks its claws deep into my heart.

“Psalm 106:37,” he drawls, twisting his meaty fingers in my hair. “They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons.”

I grow icy cold, but before I can ask him why he recited that Bible verse, the same one on the back of the photograph, he breathes me in and drags his nose over the curve of my neck. A second or two passes where I stare at the flickering light overhead while my heart flutters wildly. His nose lowers again, breathing me in obscenely loud. Grabbing my jaw, he bares his teeth and snaps them inches from my face before descending into crazed laughter. He leans in to sniff me again, then snarls like a creature straight out of a horror movie.

His breath is wet against my ear. “You’re succulent.”

The initial panic morphs into something else, something provoked, like I’m an animal locked in a cage too small. I try to shove him off, and when that doesn’t work, I knee him in the balls.

Bent at the waist, his eyes swim with black as he spits in a foreign language—an ancient and shiver-inducing language.

My arm itches.

Fuck, how it itches.

Flies crawl and buzz over my skin.

I tear at it with my dirty nails, scratching and clawing.

Noticing, he cocks his head. Then, faster than I can react, his mouth gapes wide, and he attacks.

“Hey, hey, Camryn?” Gwen taps my cheek a little too hard to be considered gentle. “Earth to Camryn?”

Dazed, I blink.

“There you are. What happened just now?”

Mr. Jones looks uncomfortable as he puts his hand on my shoulder, causing me to jerk away. “I think she needs to see a nurse,” he says.

I’m at a loss and struggling to make sense of the situation. When I look at Gwen, she explains, “You freaked out on Mr. Jones when he came to speak to you.”

I glance around the once again crowded hallway before slumping back against the wall. My eyes sting, but not from tears.

Exhaustion.

What’s happening to me?

“Did I…” I swallow, unable to look anyone in the eye. “Did I hurt you, Mr. Jones?”

“Hurt me? God, no. You were mumbling words under your breath that I couldn’t make out. I’m impressed by your foreign language skills, Miss. Barker.”

I frown. “I don’t know any other languages.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me and that my distress makes him uncomfortable. He turns to Gwen, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder. “Take her to the nurse. It’s probably a heatstroke.”

“I will.” She puts her arm around my waist and leads me through the crowded hallways. “You’re okay, Camryn. No one is looking.”

I know they are. Rumors spread like wildfire in a small town like this, jumping from tongue to lip, reshaping and transforming by the second until the truth is buried beneath the rubble of white lies. I’m the new girl who threw a match to a field of dry wheat with my freak-out.

What’s happening to me?

I keep my gaze on the floor until we enter a small room with a cot. Gwen sits me down, swipes my hair off my damp forehead, and flicks her eyes between mine. “It’s the heat. It gets to the best of us. It’s about time they get the AC fixed.”

Swiping unbidden tears from my eyes, I smile weakly, grateful to have been offered this one simple excuse. It doesn’t feel like a heatstroke, but she’s right—it doesn’t get this warm in the city.

The door creaks open, and a woman pops in with a wide smile and a fresh bottle of ice-cold water dripping with condensation. I gulp it down before handing the empty bottle back.

“My, my, you were thirsty,” she says, touching my clammy forehead. “You’ll be alright, sweetheart. Let’s rest for a bit, alright.”

Though we’re blessed with a cloudy afternoon, the heat still remains, and a thin layer of sweat coats my skin at all times. It doesn’t matter how many showers I take or how much water I guzzle. Short of keeping my head in the freezer, I can do nothing but slowly lose my sanity. Boob sweat is another constant, and as if that’s not bad enough, my tank top sticks to my spine.

The heat was bearable at first, but not anymore.

I toss the bag in the trash can and shut the lid on the buzzing flies. The reek in the air is so foul that I press the back of my hand over my nose as I step away. I suppose that’s what happens when food waste and old milk cartons bake in the sun for too long, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s gross.

I turn on my heel, about to head back inside, when I grow still.

“Camryn…”

Spinning around, I search the tall oak and fir trees for the source of the whisper. Overhead, the branches sway in the mild breeze.

Another string of hushed whispers raises the hairs on my neck, their ancient notes seducing me as they wrap around my heart, pulling me closer.

When I near the tree line, the buzz of flies inside the trash can fades into the distance, and I’m pulled forward by disembodied, hushed voices in the breeze—voices that know my name and seem to grab at my clothes and hair.

A sudden silence swallows me whole as I disappear into the trees. Not even the breaking twigs beneath my rubber sole disturb it.

The air is still, too. Not a trembling leaf rustles. Not a bird tweets.

I turn to look behind me and gulp down a breath. I’m no longer near the yard’s edge, and the looming estate is no longer visible through the branches. No, I’m deep in the woods, so far that I’ve lost track of where I am.

“Camryn!”

Panicked, I spin around and almost stumble over an exposed root. A squirrel darts up a tree branch beside me, and mushy leaves get crushed beneath my shoes as I take another step back. Something is wrong with these woods. Something has lured me here to feed on my fear, and not for the first time. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

It feeds on every thudding heartbeat and spike of anxiety while watching me from behind thick trunks and beneath the carpet of pines and decomposing leaves. It’s in the heavy air and all around, dancing over my exposed skin with the next vagrant breeze. Curious, it travels up my arms, searching, hunting, and testing me.

“Camryn.”

I fall back against the soft moss with a startled cry, my heart pounding. Overhead, a raven breaks through the canopy of greens. Its eerily haunting caw cuts through the thick, heavy silence before the last note fades into nothingness.

I turn over on my front, but before I can climb to my feet, a strong hand encircles my arm and pulls me up. Surprised, I lock eyes with the man from the woods, the same man I spotted in the café the other day.

“Are you okay?”

It seems I’ve lost my ability to talk, because I say nothing. Just gawk at him.

When the silence stretches on, he lets go of my shoulders and rubs his neck, but then he seems to remember his unbuttoned shirt, and I watch his long fingers deftly do up the buttons.

“I’m sorry if I startled you?”

“It’s okay,” I reply shakily.

His fingers pause, but I still don’t lift my gaze, unable to look away from his scarred knuckles and veiny hands. They’re a working man’s hands.

He finishes the last two buttons, hiding that firm chest from view, but not before I catch the silvery scars.

“These woods are dangerous,” he says, as though he’s tired or fed up. “If you get lost, you might never find your way back.”

“What do you know of the woods?” I ask.

He studies me with his forest-green eyes. “I know people have got terribly lost in these woods, ma’am.”

I blink.

“What made you venture this far out?” he asks, keeping a respectable distance. The low rumble of his voice reminds me of a summer storm.

“I didn’t,” I respond, then realize how stupid that sounds, considering that we’re miles into the woods, but I can’t tell him I have no recollection of walking this far.

His throat jumps when another mild breeze moves the branches overhead, and he jerks his head to the left and says, “Come on. Let’s get you back.”

We walk in silence. I’m dying to ask questions, but my tongue feels too thick for my mouth, and all I can focus on are his muscular legs in those denim jeans.

“Are you not warm?” I blurt.

He glances at me over his shoulder and shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“I saw you…” I say, surprised by my sudden eagerness to engage in conversation. “The other day, I mean… You were chopping wood. Do you live around here?”

“Do you make a habit of sneaking around in the woods?” he asks, dodging my question.

My eyebrows pull down low as I step over a fallen branch. “It’s not private land, is it? You won’t shoot me with a shotgun or anything?”

“If I tell you yes, will you stay out of the woods?”

“Unlikely,” I reply as he holds a branch out of the way.

I like the way he follows me with his eyes. It’s not sexual, but it’s not void of interest, either. He is intrigued and trying to figure me out.

“I didn’t have a choice… The whispers—” My mouth snaps shut. No, I refuse to sound insane when I’ve barely known him for less than five minutes.

He lets go of the branch and falls into step beside me. We continue in companionable silence, lost in our thoughts.

Sounds slowly filter back in—birds tweeting, twigs snapping underfoot, and a rolling of thunder overhead.

“Will you believe me if I tell you weird things happen in these woods and that you should stay out for your own good?”

I glance at him, taking in his dark hair, forest eyes, and the set line of his lips. He has an air of mystique about him, and I can’t help but feel drawn in by it. I don’t think I would want to fight the pull, given the choice.

“You walk these woods…” I leave the words hanging, hoping he’ll offer me his name.

He inclines his head and says, in a humorous tone, “I know these woods like the back of my hand.” His voice lowers. “You don’t.”

We step through the tree line, and the large estate greets us as it rises into the clouds, thick ivy crawling across the bricks.

Looking back at the stranger, I hike a thumb over my shoulder. “Would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” When he fails to answer, I tuck my hair behind my ear. “We have iced tea, if you prefer?—”

“Camryn!” a hard voice calls out behind me.

I turn to see Dominic striding toward us with a murderous expression and clenched hands. He stops beside me and narrows his eyes on the mysterious man at my side. “Who are you?”

“Dominic,” I hiss, cheeks heating. “Don’t be rude. I got lost in the woods, and he helped me find my way back.”

Dominic’s blazing eyes land on my face. “The woods?” Fury radiates off him with every sharp inhale. “The fucking woods? What have I said about you entering the woods?”

“I told her the same?—”

“Walk away! You’re not welcome here.” Dominic pulls me behind him. “If I see you near my sister again, I’ll make you regret it, understood?”

“Dominic!” I shove his unmoving back, the muscles rippling beneath his sweat-stained T-shirt as he holds me back with his arm. The infuriating man is a behemoth with anger issues. I fucking hate him.

“Walk!” His voice brokers no argument.

The stranger’s footsteps retreat, but Dominic doesn’t relax until he is out of sight; only then does he inhale a deep breath before spinning around and pinning me with his glare.

I flip him off and then stride toward the house, kicking up the dried grass. Fuck him for telling me what to do and for threatening the man who helped me find my way back.

I’ve barely made it two steps before Dominic spins me around. “I told you not to enter the woods.”

“What I do is none of your business.” I wrench free and level him with a glare that would set him on fire if this was a cartoon.

“You’re my sister?—”

“Don’t!” I hiss, poking his chest. “We both know you’re not. So don’t go using the brother card whenever it suits you. I’m nothing to you, remember? Those were your words before we moved here.”

Shoving my finger away, he steps into me. “Sis.” He drawls the word with a sneer that borders on a toxic smirk. “I’m an asshole with no regard for secular morals, remember? Those were your words. So what makes you think I give a flying fuck about your opinion? Let’s get one thing straight?—”

When I glance around, distracted, he grabs my chin and pulls me back. I bat him off. “Listen.”

Confused, he looks up and scans the yard and the tree line. Chills erupt over my skin as the wind moves my hair around my shoulders.

“The silence...”

“The silence?” His throat jumps and he slowly turns beside me.

“The crickets stopped chirping,” I point out, inching closer to the house and glancing toward the trees as thunder sounds again in the distance.

When I look up at the darkening clouds, a sense of foreboding and an urgency to run grabs hold of me.

Something bad is about to happen.

I reach for Dominic’s arm. “Please, can we go inside?”

Surprised, he looks down at my hand on his skin and nods. “Let’s go back.”

I turn to leave when a breeze sweeps over my shoulder, like a cold breath. My fingers fall away from Dominic’s arm as a shudder runs through me. But I don’t turn around to look at him, not now when the sky is almost black and the wind whips my hair around my face.

Every instinct warns me to run for safety.

Whatever is behind me—stroking my hair away from my shoulder—is evil, toying with me like a cat with a mouse.

Dominic’s usually warm fingers feel cold to the touch.

“I do find his attraction to you delicious.” He steps closer, his T-shirt grazing my back. My lashes flutter as I hold my breath. “The human doesn’t want to feel this way about you.” His low chuckle drifts closer to my ear. “He fights it.”

His fingers drift down my arm in a slow path toward my wrist, and he smiles against my ear before whispering, “He knows…”

No…

Panic threatens to drag me under, and I run blindly toward the doors, stumbling up the porch steps. Once inside, I slam the door shut and lock it. I even pull the keychain into place.

What the hell happened out there? What was that…that thing I felt move past me? That took hold of Dominic? Is that what it did? Took hold of him? It certainly wasn’t my stepbrother who whispered those things in my ear. Why would he taunt me like that?

I press my forehead to the wood and squeeze my eyes shut.

He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know?—

A loud bang startles me, and I scream as I jump back.

“Camryn?” Dominic shouts on the other side, rattling the handle. He bangs again, and I yelp. More bangs follow.

Mom enters the hallway and looks between me and the door, confused. “Is that your brother?”

“Let me in, Camryn!” He bangs again, then kicks it.

Mom shoulders past me to unlock the door, but I don’t wait around to see Dominic’s rage or the evil glee of whatever that thing is as I flee upstairs to my room.