The Consequence of Revenge

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The Consequence of Revenge Page 9

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “Sure does.” The producer stayed behind and wrote something down on a piece of paper. “The rules were vague. They said get the Bachelor to kiss you and you stay.”

  “But . . .” I touched my lips; they buzzed with excitement. If Max knew that . . . why hadn’t he just kissed my hand? Or maybe he wasn’t aware of the rules at all?

  “Hey, Little B, you coming?” Max called behind him and held out his hand.

  I ran up to join him but didn’t take his hand. “Little B?”

  “Yeah, because you have little—”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Hold that thought.” He held up his hand and jogged over to the chairs on the beach where around five girls, the shy ones, were lying down. With speed and precision he lifted each one’s hat and/or sunglasses and placed a kiss across her temple.

  “Six.” I applauded when he made his way back to me.

  “Seven.” His brow furrowed. “You have trouble counting like the drunk one, or are you just checking my math?”

  “Sorry.” I felt my face heat.

  “Whoa!” Max laughed. “And an apology?”

  I glared.

  “Hold that thought too.” He jogged off to another section where some girls were congregating and went down on one knee, pulling their hands to his lips.

  I waited.

  And smiled.

  And tried desperately not to be charmed that he was not only making each and every one of the girls feel kind of special and silly at the same time, but that he wasn’t making it a big deal. It wasn’t about him, and the thing about the show? It was always about the guy. Even with the money on the line it was always about the guy and how hot he was and how impressive.

  With Max, it was almost like he hated the attention. But didn’t all good-looking guys like attention? He was a conundrum; on one hand he seemed to be the biggest player on the planet.

  But if he were . . . he would have been kissing all of the girls—with tongue.

  Rather than going down on bended knee in the sand and taking their hands in his, kissing their knuckles and making them feel . . . like that kiss was better than one on the lips.

  I got tired waiting for him, plus he looked like he was having a good time, so I went toward the ocean and dipped my feet in.

  “Happy to see the shark phobia doesn’t affect you on the shore,” Max said smoothly from behind.

  “Don’t you have girls to kiss?” I asked without turning around.

  “I need five more.” Max walked up beside me. “Help me make my choices?”

  “You want me to help you pick out the next five?”

  “Yup. Who do you want to keep?”

  Before I could answer, a camera crew came walking in our direction. I tucked the hair behind my ear and pointed so he would know.

  “I’ve got this . . .” Max winked and then I was in the air, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  He ran straight for the water. With all of his clothes on.

  I’d had time to change into a bathing suit underneath my white cover-up. Max, however, was in low-slung jeans and a T-shirt.

  But it didn’t deter him from going all the way under and taking me with him. I gasped as the water hit my head. Max’s body pushed me farther under, and then he lifted me up just as I was ready to gasp for air.

  “What the hell!” I smacked his shoulder.

  “You’re welcome.” He grinned, water dripping from his hair onto his face.

  “For almost drowning me?”

  “Hey, is that any way to thank me for saving your life?”

  “How do you figure?” I splashed water at him. We were a good distance from the shore but I could still stand. The camera crew, however, stayed put.

  “We were about to get discovered by the producers. On top of that, I still need your help and I totally saw a shark about two seconds ago, punched it in the nose, and demanded it leave. See? Saved your life!”

  “Shark?” I repeated, looking frantically around the clear blue water. “Shark?”

  “Aw, Little B—”

  I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. If I was getting eaten, so was he.

  Clawing at his chest, I shuddered as the thought of a shark touching me finally became my reality. I was going to die!

  Max cleared his throat. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Taking you with me.” I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Where we goin’?”

  “Hell! Because we’re going to get eaten and we went on a reality show and everyone knows reality shows are like a free ticket to hell! They’re awful and I’M SORRY I WANTED THE MONEY! You hear me, God? I’M SORRY! BUT I NEED TO FINISH SCHOOL AND I—”

  Cold water hit my face, making me choke. Did that bastard just dunk me? I clawed to the surface and then felt Max’s warmth as he pulled me into his arms again. “We done freaking out yet?”

  “You son of a—”

  Cold water again. Damn, he was strong.

  When he lifted me up the second time, I was so pissed my arms and legs went flailing in all directions.

  “No sharks,” Max said calmly. “Joke, I was joking. Wow, you really must be terrified of them.”

  “I’m going to name a goat Max, then sacrifice it so its spirit haunts you for the rest of your life.”

  Max froze. “I will freaking buy an aquarium and name every damn shark after you, then train them to roar whenever they see your picture.”

  “False, sharks don’t roar.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “Mine will.”

  “What, because your sharks are going to be special hybrids?”

  “They’ll be badass! Just don’t sacrifice the goat!”

  “I think I’ll buy a second goat, and send you picture texts of him in various states of rage in your house, so that you never have peace and—”

  “Fine!” Max shouted. “I’m sorry, leave the goats out of it!”

  “THEN DON’T LIE ABOUT SHARKS!”

  “I like you.” Max nodded. “You fight fire with fire. I think if we ever get off this island and the world gets taken over by zombies, I want you as my second-in-command.”

  “Aw.” I nodded. “Sweetest thing a guy’s ever said to me.”

  “Comes from the heart.” He sighed and then yawned. “So about those girls.”

  “I don’t know their names.”

  “Sure you do.” Max turned me around and pointed at the beach. “There’s Angry, Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey, and Doc. Not gonna lie—kind of on the fence about Doc.”

  “We’re naming them after the Seven Dwarfs?”

  “Tell me you don’t see the similarity!” Max pointed. The girl he’d dubbed Angry did have a permanent scowl. Grumpy just looked, well, grumpy, she had short hair and was using sticks to try to build a fire. Don’t ask me why. Dopey was frolicking across the sand. I imagined she also believed in unicorns and had a pet butterfly. And Doc, well, Doc . . . I tilted my head. “Why don’t we like Doc?”

  “Nobody likes Doc.” Max crossed his arms. “He’s like the one dwarf everyone’s on the fence about, people don’t forget him because his name doesn’t even make sense—I mean what does he do?”

  “He’s the doctor. I can’t believe I’m participating in this conversation.”

  “Um, believe it, and do they ever come out and say oh, P.S., This is Doc, he’s the resident doctor for the dwarfs, oh, and he looks like a bazillion times older than the rest of them.”

  “No, but—”

  “Doc.” He pointed at the girl. “Her hair looks more white than blond, and she doesn’t fit in, she’s a bit sketch. Yeah, I’m going with Doc.”

  “Well, now I feel bad, keep Doc.”

  “Damn it.” Max hit the water with his hand. “The things I do for you, Little B, the things I do.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And keep Angry, Grumpy looks like Eeyore and we don’t need an Eeyore in the group.”

  “Aw, you’re using cartoons as examples.” Max clapp
ed. “I’m so proud.”

  “It’s the company I keep these days.”

  “Badass company,” Max replied. “Okay, so that leaves . . . Sneezy?”

  “Why is she Sneezy?”

  “Oh.” Max pointed. “It’s not her, it’s me. Every time I walk by her I sneeze. I’m not saying it’s a sign, but come on, nature’s basically telling me I’m allergic to her, imagine what would happen if we slept together and—”

  “And let’s just not finish that sentence.”

  “Fine, so I still need three more girls, right?” Max’s eyes searched the beach. “Make that two: I’m going to keep Dopey as well. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she’ll be shy. So that leaves . . .”

  “Sneezy.” I smirked. As if on cue, Max sneezed and sent me a glare.

  “Fine.” He huffed. “And the final seashell goes to . . .”

  “Gina.” I answered. “I know you hate her, we all hate her, but here’s the thing, she’s tough. I mean, how many people can say they know how to build a fire with their bare hands? If we get stuck here forever—she’s our only ticket out.”

  “So Gina’s our survival.” Max winced. “It feels wrong to put our lives in her nutty hands.”

  “Guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  I pushed him toward the shore. “You gotta go kiss your girls, Max.”

  “Just kidding. We so aren’t going to be partners in the zombie apocalypse!

  “Pucker up!”

  He flipped me off.

  But honestly? It felt more like a high five between friends.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MAX

  And to think I had totally been about to offer the position of best friend to Becca after she used the Eeyore reference! I stomped toward shore, my heart a little bit lighter after our conversation, and turned around to give her one last wave.

  She lifted her hand, and it froze midair. Her smile turned to a look of horror and her eyes went so big I came to the only conclusion I could. She’d seen a shark.

  Frantic, I looked around my feet, I mean I was in some shallow water but still there wasn’t a chance in hell that—

  “Maa-aaa.”

  I gulped and very slowly turned around.

  A goat.

  Was on the beach.

  And the girls were petting it!

  “Back!” I yelled. “Get back!”

  The goat, clearly taking my terrified yell as a sign of aggression, chose that opportunity to charge toward me, and bits of sand flew underneath its hooves as it galloped in my direction. And I, being the coward I am, ran in the opposite direction.

  Toward Becca.

  “Remember that zombie apocalypse scenario we talked about?” I yelled, half running and half swimming toward her in the ocean.

  “Yeah?” Her eyes were trained behind me.

  “Now would be a good time to man up!”

  “Goats can’t swim.”

  “This goat can! I can feel him!”

  “He stopped at the shore.” Becca pointed; I rose to my feet and slowly turned. The demon-possessed goat was peeing on a rock and harmlessly licking its hoof. Bastard. I was going to shoot it, then cook it. For no other reason than that I wanted it dead and the only way was to . . . okay, so maybe I wouldn’t eat it. Too far, Max, too far.

  “Wait.” I scratched my head. “If the goat’s up there, then why did I feel something grab my back?”

  “Don’t move!” Becca held up her hands.

  “Okay, you know that makes me want to move, right? That’s exactly what people say when you have a giant-ass spider on you or when something’s about to drop on your head! Let me move, Becca—I want to move!”

  “You can’t!” Becca shook her head. “You need to stay.”

  “I’m not your dog!” I wailed.

  “Max,” Becca warned. “Just give me a minute to figure it out.”

  The entire beach was watching. The camera crew was trained on us like there was a freaking shark on my back. Holy shit, was there? Did sharks do that?

  “What is this?” I yelled toward the beach. “Freaking Fear Factor?”

  “Got it!” Becca announced happily. “Phew, that was close.”

  “What?”

  “Seaweed.” She lifted it in the air. “Can be very dangerous. Why, I’ve read news stories where it wrapped around someone and choked them to death.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “I’m waiting,” she said.

  “For?”

  “A thank-you.”

  “It was seaweed.”

  “Could have been a goat.”

  I sniffed. “I had the goat handled.”

  “You almost drowned handling it, but yeah, good plan.”

  “I was going to drown with him!” I shouted.

  “So you both die?”

  “I didn’t say I thought it through, Becca!”

  “Is this our first fight?” she teased.

  “Only if I win.” I grumbled.

  “Fine, you win. You’re the great goat killer and seaweed’s attracted to your power.”

  “Is it wrong that I actually felt pride swell in my body? That wasn’t a metaphor, it is totally a real thing.” I nodded. “At any rate, thanks.”

  Becca’s grin was wide; she held out her hand and gave me a high five. “What are friends for?”

  “Did you know . . .” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “The position of best friend is open too.”

  “Oh, is it?” Her eyes twinkled. “Would I have to give up my role as your partner in the zombie apocalypse?”

  “Never. That shit’s real.” I splashed water toward her. “Being a best friend does have perks.”

  “Oh, yeah? What kind of perks?”

  “Hi.” I held out my hand for her to shake. “Name’s Perk.”

  “Aw, it rhymes with perv, don’t you think?”

  “Not really.” I shook my head. “Both start with P but it was a good try, amateur. You’ll get better the more you’re exposed to my greatness.”

  “You make a girl feel so good.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, if I had a dollar . . .” We reached the shore, both of us grinning like idiots. Big Al stepped out from behind the camera and asked if I was okay, while the rest of the girls fluttered around me. But my mind wasn’t on them, it was on Becca, a new partner in crime, who just happened to kiss . . . very, very, very, very, okay I needed to stop with the verys. She kissed well. Let’s put it that way.

  Which reminded me . . . “Angry, Amazon, Sneezy, Doc, Dopey, you’re up!”

  The girls looked at me like I was insane, but Becca snorted with laughter. I rolled my eyes and approached each girl, whispered sweet nothings, and kissed her hand.

  When I approached Amazon I almost backed away but I needed to put on a brave face. After all I did just try to drown myself because I thought a goat was chasing me. Hey, where was the goat?

  I placed the quickest kiss known to mankind on Gina, careful to keep one eye trained on her lest she make another sudden movement and get ahold of my hair again, then searched the beach.

  I should have known.

  With a curse I stomped over to the tiki bar they’d set on the sand and shook my head in dismay. “Traitor. I knew I offered the title of best friend too soon.”

  A camera crew followed me but I didn’t care. It wasn’t like we were talking strategy anymore; we were just . . . talking.

  “Aw, look, he’s harmless.”

  The goat reached for my hand.

  I backed away.

  The goat reached again.

  “He needs to smell you,” Becca said sternly. “He’s afraid.”

  “That’s how they lure you in.” I leveled a gaze on the goat. “Huh, big guy? You lure people in with your crazy eyes, then eat them. And what are you, anyway? The damn goat whisperer?”

  “Has a sort of ring to it.” Becca flashed me another one of her pretty smiles and leaned down. “Come on
Max, be brave.”

  “I choose . . . the opposite of bravery.”

  “Cowardice.”

  “I hate that word. It doesn’t go very well with Max. Max the Coward. I prefer Max the Magnificent.”

  “You played way too much G.I. Joe when you were young, didn’t you?”

  “Stupid Snake Eyes got me every time. Damn you!” I pointed to the sky and then looked down at the goat. “Fine, let it sniff me, but if it bites a finger off we’re swimming with sharks.”

  “Deal.” Becca’s eyebrow arched.

  I closed my eyes.

  And felt sniffing. Licking. And . . . no biting. I opened one eye, then the other. The goat was sniffing me and then suddenly lost interest.

  “Wait!” I patted his head. “Why doesn’t he like me?”

  “What?” Becca burst out laughing. “First you’re afraid to attract it and now you’re mad it doesn’t like you?”

  “Everyone likes me.” I leaned down. “Come on, Billy, give Uncle Max a chance.”

  “Everything you just said gave me the creeps.” Becca held up her hands.

  I rolled my eyes. “Maybe he needs a snack?”

  “And now you want to feed it?” Becca asked, her voice rising in pitch.

  “It’s the way to a man’s stomach.”

  “And goats and men are what? Interchangeable?”

  “They both have balls.”

  “I need to find new friends.”

  “You love me.” I winked. “Now let’s get him a snack. Actually, we need to find out when they’re feeding us because some of those girls look like they could use bread. Lots and lots of bread.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BECCA

  Finding food proved more difficult then we’d realized . . . mainly because part of the game was locating our food by reading a map. I figured I would be okay, but the others? Not so much.

  The producers had already escorted away the girls who hadn’t been kissed, even though the forty-eight hours weren’t up. Max had made his choices so it wasn’t like they needed to stick around any longer. There were some tears, which really begged the question of how dating shows worked. One of the chicks had to be sedated because apparently in her mind the connection between her and Max was so strong that she’d already started naming their children.

 

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