Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7) (8 page)

Maybe that’s the reason I’m relieved when the game is finally over and I can go. Justin is a weird temptation. Always has been. I don’t want to crash into him again today and accidentally push open a door that was so hard to seal in the first place.

Sweating from the match, I jump into the lake with the others, but I come out first, rub myself dry and, with my towel wrapped around my body, head back to the cabins.

Crossing the open space to the Squirrel cabin, I almost get run over by a couple of girls. There’s barely enough time for me to skip out of the way.

“We have it!” one of the kids yells, and every single girl nearby storms toward them to swallow them in a huddle.

What the hell? Clasping the towel tighter to my chest, I stalk over to them. “You have what?” I demand.

At my sharp voice, the group parts, revealing the troublemakers. One of them is grinning at me like a lunatic. I narrow my eyes at her, but when my gaze lands on what’s actually in her hand, I can’t suppress a smile of my own. “The boys’ flag?” Jeez, this is awesome! And the thieves are from the Tiger group, too. Camp games still aren’t my idea of a fun summer, but
hell yes
, I’m quite proud of the girls right now. “Well done, tigers!”

“Where do we hide it?” Blondie, the dance-club instructor asks, and suddenly everyone shouts at once. In the uproar, it’s hard to understand anything. This isn’t my problem, so I pivot and head off. Moments later, the turmoil ceases, and the flag-snatcher calls after me, “Chloe!”

Halting, I cast a look back at them.

“Do you have any idea where we can hide this?”

“Hm.” I deliberate a moment, then I shrug. “If you want it safe, bury it somewhere in the woods.”

If their beaming faces are any indication, my suggestion meets with everyone’s approval. Immediately, the whole bunch starts off into the copse behind the campsite.

With a chuckle rocking my chest, I walk up the stairs to our porch and shake my head. Oh, to be thirteen again… I wouldn’t want it for a million dollars.

I push the door shut with my bottom and throw the towel on the chair. My hair always has a slight frizz to it when it air-dries. Thank God for the straightener in my cupboard. I plug it in and run it down the length of my strands to flatten each one perfectly. It takes a while, but I’m dressed and ready to leave for dinner at six thirty.

Julie hasn’t come back yet. Did she walk from the lake straight to the dining hall? Starving after the tough game that afternoon, I decide not to wait for her any longer and stroll off. Some kids run past me on the way. It’s the girls who stole the flag. Apparently, they already found a good place to bury it.

The bustle in the dining hall is annoying. I can’t wait to once again eat dinner in a room where the noise isn’t constant at ninety decibels. The table near the kitchen, where the counselors eat every day, is empty except for Justin sitting down right this second.

I lower opposite him, casting a glance around. “Where are Two and Three?”

After taking a sip from his Fanta, he wipes his mouth and cocks his head. “Julie and Greyson?” His gaze hardens with irritation. “You know those are their names, right?”

After the way he tricked me into playing volleyball this afternoon, I can’t resist teasing him. “Why? You have a problem with that—
Four
?”

“Four?” His brow creases, and a sigh escapes him. “You really don’t make it easy for people to like you, do you?”

What, he compliments me once at the volleyball match and thinks that’s enough to make us friends? I don’t think so. “Enough people like me. No need to add you—or
Julie
and
Greyson
—to the list. I’m here to clock my hours, not make new friends.”

A boy comes by wheeling a two-tier trolley with food. He’s one of four camp kids who’re assigned to kitchen duty today and puts a whole menu of soup, pasta, and a piece of cake for dessert in front of us. Justin waits until the boy’s gone, then he picks up his fork and starts twisting the spaghetti. He throws me a fleeting look then concentrates on his plate again. “If Lesley and Kirsten are your only friends, you’re in for a sad life, tiger. They were a poor choice from the beginning.”

Eating my own pasta, ignoring the soup, I grumble, “You think you would have been a better choice?”

When there’s no answer from him, I automatically look up. Little did I know his eyes could turn such a dark shade when he’s gazing at someone so intensely. He keeps staring at me for another couple of seconds, in which I stop chewing the spaghetti, then he says in a low tone, “Yes. I do.”

As he turns his head away, the lump of pasta in my mouth slides down my throat with a loud gulp. And the past filters through my mind again…

“Why did you tell them I pestered you?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not! You came because you wanted to. You’re a damn liar!”

“Hey! Did we miss anything?” Julie’s exhilarated voice so close to my ear intrudes on my thoughts, ripping me out of the past. She slumps down in the chair next to me and waves at the guy with the trolley. “Can we have our meals, please?” When her attention is back on us, she throws a stern look between Justin and me. “Okay, why’s everyone making a face like camp is over tomorrow?”

Hah! That makes me laugh. I’d be the happiest person on the planet if tomorrow was the end of July and I was about to be free. But that piece doesn’t come over my lips. “It’s just the spaghetti. Leaves a weird aftertaste today,” I murmur.

Justin’s focus is still on his plate, but I can see how the corners of his mouth twitch with a small smile. I continue with my own meal and try not to think about why his smile looks almost sad—and why I care about it so much.

Julie and Greyson tuck in when they get their plates as if they haven’t eaten in days. “Where have you been, anyway?” I ask Julie with some irritation. If she’d been here sooner, the weird conversation with Justin wouldn’t have happened in the first place. So, yes, I blame her.

“Uh… We’ve been busy with camp stuff,” Greyson answers quickly for her, avoiding my gaze.

This, however, makes Justin also look up in wonder. “Camp stuff?” he repeats with an intrigued edge to his voice.

“Yes.” Sucking the soup off her spoon, Julie gestures in a crazy way with her free hand. “You know, like, um…locking the soccer and basketballs away. And—”

“The kids,” Greyson helps her out. “We had to give two of them a lecture about jumping from a tree into the lake.”

“Right, the kids,” says Julie and slurps another spoonful of soup.

What freaking secrets are these two keeping? Because the stuttering about balls and kids is complete bull. I prop my elbow on the table to question them more, but a cough beside me makes me tilt my head in the other direction.

To my left, Pixie-cut and Ginger-locks from the volleyball match stand frozen on the spot. Both nervously clasp their hands in front of them, backed by three girls from the Owl group. “Yes?” I say to make them speak.

“Er… We’ve heard that you’re going to acting school,” Ginger-locks mumbles, and another girl from the back adds, “In San Francisco.”

Ah, someone ratted me out. I cast a glance at Julie, which she dismisses with an awkward shrug. My attention back on the kids, I lift my brows. “So?”

Pixie-cut’s blue eyes warm with hope. “So we were wondering if you could give us some acting lessons?”

My face goes blank. Teach
another
workshop, in addition to dance club? Who do they think I am? Freaking Mother Teresa? I shake my head. “Uh-uh.”

Her expectant smile drops. “Why not?”

“Because it isn’t part of the program.”

“Can’t you make an exception?” someone from the second line whines, and the rest of them make big puppy eyes at me.

Too bad I don’t like puppies. “Sorry, that’s not possible. Now go and eat your dinner. I’ll see you for dance tomorrow.” Luckily, they head off without further begging and whining. I finish my meal quietly and fast, and when I’m done, I stand up and carry my tray over to the rack for dirty dishes.

“Why don’t you want to teach the girls some acting?”

The tray almost slips from my hands as I startle at the sound of Justin’s voice behind me. I didn’t realize he’d followed me. Sliding my tray into a slot, I keep my head lowered. “Because you already dumped the dancing on me. That’s enough work for one summer.”

I make room so he can slide his tray onto the rack, too. On the way out, he falls in step with me, but he keeps silent—until we’re outside, where our ways are supposed to part. With no clue as to what brought on the change of topic, he declares, “The Tigers stole the boys’ flag.”

When I look at him, the tiny, proud smile that curves my lips is involuntary. “I know.”

He arches his brows, but for me the conversation is over and I walk away, back to my side of camp.

That night, when Julie is snuggled up on her bed reading a book, I sneak out of the cabin with my phone tucked in the pocket of my denim skirt. I haven’t yet had a chance to call or text Brinna again, because I’ve either been coerced into hanging out with Two, Three, and Four, or some kids are around.

It’s past ten, the camp is quiet, apart from the squeals inside the girls’ cabins, and it’s warm enough to take a stroll. Wandering through the wood, I whisper to Brinna for half an hour, telling her everything that’s happened so far, including my struggles with Justin and the stupid report he has to file about me at the end of camp. Hearing her voice and compassion lifts my dreary mood after the strange things Justin said during dinner. I don’t want to end the call tonight, but Brin is supposed to meet up with Kirsten soon, so I let her off. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to talk to Kir or Les right now, nor should they know about Justin being here at camp with me. Before we hang up, I make Brinna swear on the holy bible that she will keep it a secret for now.

The phone tucked safely in my tight pocket again, I amble back to the cabin. One foot already on the bottom step, some movement near the bushes catches my eye. Is one of the girls sneaking out? The gravel crunches beneath my shoes as I stalk over. “Hey! Who’s there?”

I shriek, having nothing short of a heart attack, when a person jumps out of the bush. It’s not a girl—too tall and burly for that. The flattened hair and plaid shirt revealed in the moonlight tell me it’s Greyson. “Boo!” he says, coming forward. A feather is attached to a band around his head, and his face is smeared with some black mud.

A shiver travels down my spine. Maybe it’s his strange appearance, or just the evil look in his eyes tonight that makes me back away, but letting him get closer seems like a stupid idea. Every muscle in my body tenses for flight, and when he takes a step forward, I turn and run.

I only get about two steps before I crash into a rock-hard chest. Angling my head up, I see a feather similar to Greyson’s sticking up at the back of Justin’s head. His eyes twinkling in the moonlight, he cracks a sinister smile as he wraps one arm around me, snapping my arms to my sides and holding me immobile. The other hand he claps over my mouth.

“Good evening, Chloe,” he purrs with nothing but dark amusement edging his voice.

Chloe

“Gentlemen, the rope,” Justin says in a calm voice. The rustle behind my back reveals that he and Greyson brought company. Probably the entire Wolf and Raccoon squads. Two boys with leaves in their hair and bundles of twigs fastened around their arms for camouflage step up to us. Justin loosens his hold on me only enough for them to wind my arms behind my back and tie my wrists. Because his firm hand over my mouth still keeps me quiet, all I can do is stare at his face in horror.

Two black lines are drawn on his cheekbones. They twitch when he grins. “I’m going to take my hand away now. If you make so much as a tiny sound, I’ll have them duct-tape your mouth.” He pauses, perhaps waiting for me to pee my pants from his threat. “Understand?”

I blink once and then nod.

“Good.” His hand inches away from my lips. The moment I’m free, I suck in a deep lungful of air, ready to let go of the scream of my life. But he’s just as fast to place his fingers over my lips, cutting me short. “Uh-uh,” he warns and pulls something from the wide pocket at the side of his shorts. A roll of freaking duct tape. “I mean it, Chloe. Don’t mess with the Wolf. You scream, you’re in trouble.”

My shriek dies before it even started.

“Now, aren’t you a good girl?” he says with a wicked flash of his teeth.

“Harry, blindfold her,” Greyson orders one of the kids next. “If she breaks free, she won’t be able to find her way back.”

Shackles
and
a blindfold? What on earth are they going to do with me? “Let me go!” I hiss under my breath and hope this isn’t breaking Justin’s
no scream
rule, because duct tape on my mouth is seriously the last thing I want right now. “I don’t care about your stupid games.”

Then it all goes bloody dark as Harry straps a bandana over my eyes.

“This isn’t a game.” I start a little as Justin speaks in my ear. “We’re taking you, because the girls have something that belongs to us.”

And what would that be? No… Wait. “The flag?” I whisper-shout in utter incredulity. “You’re kidnapping me because they stole a stupid cloth on a stick?”

“Exactly.” His breath caresses my cheek, but my skin quickly turns cold when he leans away. “Now I suggest you be quiet. I would hate to seal those sexy lips of yours.” The spooky sound of duct tape being demonstratively ripped from a roll in front of my face makes me cringe in my darkened world. I close my mouth. “Good choice,” Justin agrees and then calls in a low voice, “Collin, come over here. You’ll lead her through the woods. Take care that she doesn’t fall.”

I feel a hand on my forearm that’s a lot gentler than Justin’s hold before. Almost timid. Collin must be shy about touching a counselor. He turns me around and starts to walk with me.

The rough path forces me to take baby steps. With my luck, I’m going to kiss a tree by accident or break an ankle before we reach the boys’ campsite tonight. If I do, Justin is going to need a thick skin, because I’ll pit my lawyer dad at his throat.

The sound of footsteps surrounds me on all sides as I’m sandwiched between Greyson and Collin. I only know that because the Monroe brothers have a whispered conversation about where to tie me up once we’re at the other side of the lake. They haven’t come to a decision yet when Justin’s thundering shout a short distance behind us makes me jump.

“Tigers!” he yells, from the sound if it, probably with his hands cupped around his mouth and still standing on the very spot where I ran into them. “We have your alpha cat! If you want her back, come to the other side of the lake before midnight! And bring our flag!”

Twigs break and leaves rustle on the path as he quickly catches up with us. “All right, boys. Let’s get the cat in the cage before they follow us,” he shouts, passing on my right.

“You heard him,” Greyson says to me, laying a hand on the small of my back in order to hustle me along faster. But with the many stones on the path, I can’t see that happening. I stumble every other step, Collin’s hand tightening around my arm each time in reflex.

“Any faster and I’ll break my legs,” I snap, turning my head in Greyson’s direction. “I can’t see a damn thing!”

Instantly, we stop, and when somebody’s breath feathers against my face, I understand why. The sound of ripping duct tape causes a shower of goosebumps to race over my skin. Two seconds later, a strip is pressed over my mouth. Justin smoothes it with his thumbs and then holds my face cupped in his hands. “I warned you, Red Riding Hood. Don’t play with the Wolf.”

Blindfolded. Shackled. And gagged. In stunned disbelief, all I can do is suck air in through my nose in a hitched rhythm. I’m caught in the middle of my personal nightmare, and Justin is taking the lead role. He’s going to regret this. The girls will come and rescue me. In no time, all of this will be over. And then I’m going to make him pay.

When Justin is gone, Greyson yanks me forward, and I stumble on between him and his brother. “Maybe someone should carry her?” Collin suggests after a few steps in which my life is in permanent danger—of tripping.

I don’t want to be carried. But to know that at least one person in this gang is concerned about my life warms me a little. I might spare Collin’s life when I come for retribution like Stephen King’s Carrie the moment they release me. And at some point they
have
to release me.

“That’s probably the best idea,” Greyson agrees and lets go of my arm. Collin takes his hand away, too.

What? They aren’t really— Someone swipes me up in his arms. A small whimper of terror escapes me. I don’t want this! With my arms tied behind my back, I can’t even hold on to Greyson, helplessly at his mercy. Screw him. Screw the whole gang, and screw Justin for initiating this.

Being carried blind is the weirdest sensation I’ve ever experienced. It almost makes me seasick. If it wasn’t for the duct tape, I would screech into Greyson’s ear to put me down—and hopefully split his eardrum. But in this position, I can only put my head on his shoulder and pray we’ll arrive at our destination soon.

Greyson stiffens a little when I lean my cheek against him. Gee, he can’t be thinking I’m trying to cuddle up to him, can he? What a jerk. On the other hand, his shoulder is quite cozy. Wouldn’t have thought so from his skinny form. Beneath the
eau de bush
he wears tonight, his skin smells manly and exotic. Almost tasty. That’s probably the result of a brief pump of cologne. Justin wore the same one last night. I still remember the scent drifting up my nose when I wrapped his hoodie tightly around me. Are they sharing stuff in the bathroom now?

Or—

Oh my freaking Jesus!

Greyson carrying me through the woods is bad enough, but there’s one thing worse than this. And that is if Justin is actually the one carrying me.

Lifting my head, I test my suspicion by brushing my nose over my abductor’s cheek. He jerks and draws in a quick breath at my touch, moving his face away from me, but it doesn’t matter. I found out all I needed to know. This cheek has a little bit of stubble instead of the pimples Greyson is sporting. Suddenly more annoyed than I thought I could ever be after being kidnapped, I rub my face against his shoulder until the blindfold slides up and frees my left eye. Angry breaths erupt through my nose. They don’t seem to bother Justin, who keeps on walking with his head forward and only his eyes moving to my face. His lips are closed, but there’s a tiny twitch to them that makes me wonder if my shock amuses him.

We reach the boys’ camp a few minutes later. There, he puts me down on my feet. The blindfold falls away when I shake my head wildly. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work with the tape over my mouth.

The guys lead me up the stairs to the cabin with a picture of a howling wolf over the door. On the porch, Justin turns me around to him, then he rips the tape off my lips.

“Jeez!” That hurt. I rub my burning mouth on my shoulder and then hiss in his face, “Why did you have to gag me if you told the girls where we’re headed anyway?”

“Because nothing entertaining ever comes out of that sweet mouth of yours,” he mocks, spinning me around to take off the rope around my wrist.

I give him the middle finger behind my back.

“See?” He chuckles. “Now that’s entertaining.”

As soon as the shackles are off, I try to get my arms free, but my jailor keeps a tight hold on my wrists. He forces me against the pole of the porch next to the steps, winds my arms around it, and reties them there with my back pressed against the wood.

“Seriously?” I snap.

He comes around, his nose almost touching mine. “Seriously.”

“What’s all the effort for?”

“To get back what’s rightfully ours.”

“And now what?”

Arms folded and a smirk on his lips, he leans against the other post, one foot placed on the wood. “Now we wait.”