Page 22 of Hide And Seek

“Oh. I guess that’s still cool, though. Owning a piece of history like that.”

“If you say so,” Jensen said with another shrug. He leaned back a little, balancing his hands on the log behind him. “Fuck, it’s hot out here. I’m really not looking forward to the rest of this trek.”

“Language, please!” Caitlin snapped. “The kids could’ve heard that!”

He smirked. “They didn’t. Besides, who even cares? If you think kids this age aren’t cussing when there’s no adults around to hear them, then I’ve got a bridge to sell you.”

“Whatever.” Caitlin abruptly rose to her feet and passed Rhys’s phone back to him. “I’m going to start doing the rounds and make sure everyone is reapplying sunscreen.”

“I’ll help you out,” I said, standing up too. Any excuse to get away from Jensen, who really seemed to be just as much of a prick as the others had described last night.

Unfortunately, before I’d even made it two feet from the log, I heard his voice. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a sec,” he said, presumably to Zach and Rhys, before falling into step beside me.

“Hey,” he said, lightly jostling my side with his elbow. “Those hiking shorts really suit you. Not many people can pull off khaki, but you sure can.”

“Thanks,” I said stiffly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

His gaze lingered a little too long before he looked away again. “How are you settling in?” he asked.

“It’s been fine so far.”

“Cool.” He moved fractionally closer. “A few of us are thinking of taking some canoes out on the lake later tonight, after lights out. You should come.”

“I'm good,” I said.

“Come on.” He jostled me again. “It's not like you've got better plans.”

“Still no.”

He laughed softly, like I was being difficult rather than answering a question. “You always this hard to convince?”

“Only when I don’t want to do something.”

His smile faltered, but not for long. “It'll be fun,” he said. “I promise I'll make it worth your while.”

I turned and looked at him then, just long enough to make it clear that I'd understood exactly what he meant and was entirely unmoved by it. “I said I'm good, Jensen.”

His jaw tightened. “Right.”

I was already walking away when I heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Bitch.”

I kept walking. It wasn't worth turning around for. But something made me glance back across the clearing, and I saw that Rhys was looking in our direction. The easy looseness he'd carried all morning was gone, replaced with a flat and cold expression.

I turned back to the kids and held out a bottle of sunscreen, trying to ignore the way Rhys's dark look was lingering at the back of my mind. And then, because my brain had apparently decided that broad daylight in a clearing full of children was the appropriate time for this, I thought about his earlier smirk.

He’d made the expression right around the time Zach had started talking about the fictional Woodsman having a son or grandson carrying on his murderous legacy, and he’d been looking straight at me when he did it, the corner of his mouth moving in a way that gave nothing away while somehow giving everything away.

It's bullshit,I told myself firmly.Obviously it's bullshit.

There was no killer lurking in these woods. Edward Stryker wasn’t evenreal. And as for the long-dead Edmund Strake, no descendant of his was currently roaming the Adirondacks with an ax and an old book of occult rituals. No one was coming to hack apart a bunch of innocent people in the middle of the night, either. It was just a silly old story made up to scare kids.

Right?

6

“My legs are killingme.”I groaned and stretched them out beneath the table. “I really thought I was fitter than this.”