Dead of Summer

by A.J. Merlin

Working as a camp counselor has been eye-opening when it comes to kids. Namely, how much I don’t want any of my own.

For me—who’s never had an extra social bone in her body and barely has enough to get through the day here—he seems to be a fountain of wealth in that area.

I wonder what he smells like. The thought is inappropriate at best.

“Yeah.” I laugh, finally feeling a little more like myself now that the marijuana isn’t quite so heavy in my bloodstream. The halo around his face has faded, and his otherworldly beauty is becoming, well, worldly.

Kayde Lane might be a mortal, just like the rest of us.

Kayde isn’t human like the rest of us, as much as it burns my throat to admit it, even to myself. Especially now, with rumors and whispers floating through the air at my back. To these kids, and probably to my fellow counselors, Kayde is a fucking god.

“Oh, my god.” The words come out as a whisper as all the warmth drains out of me, into the ground below. “Not quite,” Kayde responds, still with that half-apologetic smile. “And if you’re really good for me, sweetheart, I won’t make you meet him tonight.”

It occurs to me that this is fun for him. That he’s having a great time with the terror shaking through me, and the way part of me is still so sure this is a joke.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I never intended to kill you.”

“I’d thought, maybe afterward, as long as I could keep you in the dark, that you and I could be the only survivors. Thought maybe…” His other hand comes up so his knuckles can trail along the edge of the ax as I watch.

His smile doesn’t fade. In fact, it stretches wider over his lips as he takes that one last step that puts the ax as close to me as possible without it touching my shirt.

“You won’t trauma bond with me if there’s not enough trauma.

“I could make you regret your anything,” Kayde promises me, no hesitation in his response. “You understand that, right?”

“If you won’t play with me, if what I want is too much for you, then we’ll be right back here. Only without any promises or deals to keep them safe. Tell me no at any time between now and then, and it ends there. I’ll kill everyone in this fucking place, and I’ll make you watch.”

While you might get the cops out here, I think I can do a lot of damage in the forty-two minutes it’ll take them to show up. You won’t do that to Kinsley, or Liza, or your kids, right? You’d never hurt them like that.”

But this isn’t a movie, and I’m not emotionally equipped to be the final girl of a summer camp massacre.

“For the rest of camp. I-I’ll do whatever you want. So long as you don’t make me hurt anyone or make me do anything embarrassing in front of anyone else here.”

“And I agree that as long as you keep your side of the deal, I won’t kill anyone.”

It makes my throat burn to see it; to see the easy shift from monster to beloved counselor.

Lost in my thoughts, I miss the subtle change from sweet back to monster. I miss the warmth seeping out of him, until his hands run up my sides and one of them grabs my jaw harshly, finger and thumb digging hard into my cheeks.

“I look forward to finding out if I can break you in the next eight days.”

“I’ve been playing this game for years, and you’re just getting your feet wet in the kiddie pool. Poor, poor Summer. But I can’t feel too badly for you…”

“After all, you fucking volunteered.”

Though I know for a fact, neither glass nor blankets will save me from Kayde.

“Coffee,” I mutter. “I need it black and injected into my veins post haste.”

Well, I guess I wasn’t the only one with an eventful night.

I’d much prefer boring, predictable Kayde to what he really is.

Even in front of all these people, he lets a little of that monster in him come out to play on his face.

“We made a deal, and I’ve come to collect, sweetheart. It’s not really that complicated.”

That shouldn’t do it. It should horrify me and bring me back from the edge I’m hovering over, and yet⁠—

“I hate you,” I whisper against his tanned, perfect skin, breathing in open-mouthed pants. “I hate you so much.”

“I know, Summer.” His hands shift down to my hips, just to wrap around me again and hold me close in his embrace like he really gives a damn. “But if you didn’t, then this wouldn’t be nearly as fun for me.”

“Please, Melody, if you’re going to turn the other girls feral and commit your first murder, please let it be Kayde.”

No, I deserve Kayde fucking Lane, who trapped me in a shower stall last night. I apparently deserve a serial killer dead set on breaking me and murdering the entire camp for shits and giggles.

“We’re not in a relationship.” “Oh, sweetheart. We are in the best kind of relationship.”

“I wanted…” I begin, and his mouth ticks with either amusement or annoyance. “For you to fall out of that tree today and break your neck.” I say it just as sweetly to him, feeling his grip tighten on my neck and where his other hand is wrapped against my waist. “But, as they say, you can’t always get what you want.”

“Well, they also say if you want something done right, you should do it yourself,” Kayde points out, lifting his hand to slip his fingers under the waistband of my shorts. “So I think, Summer, if you want me dead that badly, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“I would just love to.” I would rather do anything but. I’d rather do anything but this, and we both know it. “Any preferences? Fast or slow? Up to down, or⁠—” “Careful,” Kayde breaks in, chin lifting. “If you keep talking to me like that, I’m going to punish you for being such a brat, Summer.”

No one has ever growled while fucking me before, and it’s hard not to think that I could get used to the possessive sound that makes my thighs twitch around him.

I’d love to tell her just how untrue that is. And just how much I’d rather be anywhere but in Kayde’s arms. Though by the look on her face when I slant my gaze in her direction, I doubt she’d believe me.

Melody really is the best twelve-year-old of the bunch. And the worst, depending on the day. Tonight I couldn’t be more proud of her, however, and I reward her with a quick, genuine smile before watching Kinsley’s girls act out an otter, a groundhog, and a kite without missing a step.

God, I really want to kick Kayde Lane in the balls.

At least, until Kayde’s palm seals itself over my mouth, and his low, warning growl meets my ears. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, his face mostly obscured by shadow. “You’re coming with me, sweetheart. And you will not make a scene about it. Understand?”

When he does finally pull away, the burning sting lingers, and Kayde tilts his head up to the light just to fucking grin at me. And shows off that his normally perfectly white teeth are tinged with pink. “You—” I jerk my arm, forgetting that I can’t move it properly. “You broke skin? You fucking⁠—”

My stomach twists as it slams into me what I’m about to say. I should be committed, surely. At the very least, I should seek therapy, because there’s no way I can say I didn’t hate that first bite as much as I should’ve without also admitting I’ve lost my mind in the boathouse tonight.

“Yes,” I tell him slowly, one brow rising as I gear up to say something mocking. “You should try it sometime. They say it’s good for you. Maybe it can be your hobby, instead of, you know.” I lift one arm and make dramatic chopping motions while Kayde watches, completely flat-lipped at my stupid display.

Not that I’d really complain about it, if he did. How could I, when the ax murderer in my bed is the best I’ve ever had?

But something I’m doing clearly isn’t to his liking. Kayde’s eyes narrow, and he jerks my hips backward so his face is unobscured by my body. “Sit the fuck down,” he growls. “And stop treating me like porcelain.”

But he never stops what he’s doing. His jaw has to be aching. Especially when he encourages me to grind against his mouth, my hips rocking in his grip.

I’m definitely going to die from this. From something Kayde-related. That’s turning into a sure fact.