The Consequence of Revenge

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The Consequence of Revenge Page 20

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “You talk to your penis now? Things that bad that you need to verbally affirm your man parts so that they don’t have to wither and fall off when I speak her name?”

  Reid glared. “Speaking of parts withering off.”

  Jason approached and slapped Reid on the back. “Whose parts are withering off?”

  “Colt’s,” I said, not missing a beat. “On account he’s nailing your sister every night.”

  “Low blow,” Reid whispered.

  “Ah, blow.” I grinned.

  “I’m sorry I walked over here,” Jason grumbled.

  We started walking toward the breakfast hut. Reid wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You get to hang out with five pretty girls today and, no worries, they’re hand-picked so you’re going to have a wonderful time.”

  “Is it just me?” I shrugged out of his hold. “Or does wonderful sound more like terrible coming from your mouth? It was like you hissed it, you slut.”

  “Self-proclaimed reformed slut,” Jason piped up. “And Reid’s right, some of the girls are nice.”

  “How’s your thumb?” I asked.

  Jason winced and squeezed his hand. “A bit sore.”

  “She’s a strong one.”

  “I imagine she ties people to bedposts and has her way with them and then gives them Advil afterwards or maybe even a shot of morphine. Really it’s a toss-up, and with my background? Bound to happen, which is why I’m carrying Mace.” Jason patted his pocket. “No chick’s going to surprise me and I won’t have to worry about, shit, I don’t even remember her name.”

  “Ah, no worries, I have nicknames for them all.”

  Reid and Jason stopped walking.

  “What?” I threw up my hands. “Do you really expect me to remember all their names? It’s so much easier using words like Minion, Grumpy, and—”

  “Ah.” They nodded in unison and pointed at the two girls I was talking about.

  “Damn it, those overalls need to be burned.” I sighed and kept walking with them.

  “Surprise!” A girl popped out from one of the trees.

  I was fast enough to have stopped Jason from making an epic mistake; instead I watched, because, well, I was a huge fan of self-destruction and Jason was always the main attraction in that department. I even mom-armed Reid so I could see better.

  In slow motion Jason yelled, “Aghhhh.” It was gurgled, which I could only assume meant he’d choked a bit on his spit out of terror. It was terror spit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Mace and sprayed.

  Sure I could have stopped him.

  I could have pushed him out of harm’s way.

  Hell, I could have yelled.

  Instead I groaned, and smirked, as Jason sprayed himself in the face.

  “Well, that’s one way to do it, I guess.” Reid snickered.

  Jason, now just discovering the pitfalls of panic and why rape whistles are always a better alternative, fell to his knees looking much like Russell Crowe in Gladiator after his final kill.

  “Nooooo!”

  I felt like jumping up and down and screaming, “Are you not entertained?”

  But I restrained myself.

  Mostly because I didn’t want to look like an insensitive ass; well, because of that and the fact that I was pretty sure most chicks wouldn’t get the movie reference.

  “Reid”—I pointed at Jason—“cold water and towels, stat!”

  “Ohhh, did you train to be a doctor?” Minion clapped her hands.

  “Yes,” I said through clenched teeth. “It goes really well with a poli-sci degree.”

  She giggled.

  And I sighed as I saw a brain cell fall out of her ear, give me a hopeless look, and combust.

  “My eyes!” Jason screamed. “Hell, that hurts!”

  “Can I help?” Minion got closer.

  “Er, yeah.” I licked my lips. “Why don’t you go try to find us some Acidifalide. Do you think you can remember that? It takes the sting away.”

  “Acidifalide. Got it!” She ran off, zigzagging like someone was shooting at her and she was escaping. Clearly she was confusing her self-defense classes with first aid.

  “Max, no chance in hell am I putting Acidifalide in my eyes! Dude, the first syllable of that word is acid!”

  I smacked him on the back of his head. “You try thinking of a fake drug on the spot!”

  “Oh.” He tried sitting up. “It’s not real.”

  “I hope not.” I shuddered. “Because if she finds it, good luck prying yourself away from her.”

  “Thanks,” he said through clenched teeth just as Reid returned with some cold water and rags.

  “Here.” I dipped the rags in the cold water and slammed one on Jason’s face. “So maybe next time, look before you spray.”

  “Like a dog.” Reid nodded helpfully. “They always look before they lift; it’s just common sense, man.”

  “Holy shit!” Colt ran up to us. “Someone said Jason was crying, you guys okay?”

  “I am not crying!” His voice was muffled from the rag.

  “There, there.” I patted his back and winked at Colt.

  Colt, being Colt, took the opportunity to fall to his knees next to Jason and start yelling loudly, “Let it out, man, just let it out! She’s not worth it!”

  “I can’t see you guys.” Jason swore. “So when I lift my middle finger please assume I’m directing it towards all of you.”

  “Jason?” Milo jogged up to us. “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” He threw his hands up in the air as the rag fell off of his face. His eyes were so red, his face so puffy, that honestly it looked like a giant spider had decided to bite every inch of skin it could.

  “Oh.” Milo put her hand over her mouth.

  Little G quivered in my pocket, so I lifted the rag and dropped it back on Jason’s head. “You’re scaring the gecko, man, not cool.”

  “As much fun as this is”—Reid grinned—“you have your first date in a half hour, Max.”

  “I need food.” I stood.

  “What about me?” Jason asked from the ground.

  “Do you want me to get Hades to sit with you or something?” I offered, thinking it a kindness.

  I received the middle finger again.

  “See if I let you goat-sit,” I muttered, and walked off, leaving Jason on the ground, rubbing his eyes.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  BECCA

  “So, how does it feel to be the favorite?” Rex asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I wouldn’t know.” I shrugged.

  “You have to know.” Rex sighed. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with our Bachelor. Some of the girls even said you’re with him during every free moment you have.”

  “I highly doubt he takes me to the bathroom,” I said through clenched teeth, hating that he was right.

  “Any jealousy?” Rex sighed. “A lot of the girls are very beautiful.”

  Right, but they were also clinically insane. “It’s all part of the game, right?” I tried to keep my voice light. I was a woman, which basically meant I harbored insecurities like any other living, breathing female out there. Of course I was worried, because as much as Max said he didn’t like the other girls . . .

  I still had to wonder.

  I mean, clearly they’d made it on the show because they offered something unique. What if Max discovered whatever that was and fell for them?

  “All right.” Rex clapped his hands, causing me to jump. “Any last confessions for the camera?”

  I could have easily said something like “Max is mine, bitches, back off,” or any other type of threat. Hey, I’d watched the show before so I knew how crazy the girls got. Instead I shrugged indifferently and said, “Max is a grown-up, he can do whatever he wants.”

  “Perfect.” Rex’s teeth snapped together.

  I took off the microphone and made my way toward the breakfast hut just in time to see Jason on the ground, Reid hovering
over him, Max yelling, and Colton grinning.

  “I need food,” Max grumbled, leaving Jason on the ground. His head lifted, his eyes zeroing in on me. “Care to join me for breakfast?”

  “That depends.” I glanced down at Jason. “Will I end up like that?”

  “That depends,” Max repeated. “Do you actually know how to use Mace?”

  “You point and shoot, what’s so hard about that?” I shrugged.

  Max laughed. “Apparently the shooting part.”

  “Aw, Jason.”

  “I’m fine!” Jason yelled from a sitting position with a rag draped over his head. “I’m just a cop who panics in the line of fire, no big deal. That doesn’t mean I’m going to die before I hit thirty.”

  “There, there,” Max said gently. “Come on, Little B, I gotta carb up, this day’s going to be—”

  “—Fun?” I offered.

  “Yes, if the definition of fun is getting your teeth pulled by a blind dentist who doesn’t know how to use pliers.”

  “Even my date?” I squeezed his arm.

  “Your date?” Max licked his lips and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. “Is going to be epic.”

  “How epic?”

  Max pushed me behind the hut and into the shadows. “Epic enough”—he nipped at my lower lip—“that we’re either going to have to hide from the cameras or there’s going to be a hell of a lot of censoring.”

  A warm blush crept over my face.

  “Aw, don’t go getting all shy on me.” Max licked my lower lip and then sucked it. “I could taste you all day.”

  “B-breakfast,” I said lamely.

  “You.” He nibbled harder, his teeth digging into my lip. “I’ll snack on you all day.”

  My body trembled.

  “I love it when you do that.” His hands moved from the small of my back up my sides. “I promise.”

  “You promise what?”

  Max grabbed my hand and led me around to the front of the hut. “I promise that when I kiss the girls, when I keep who I’m choosing to keep, it won’t be their lips I’m touching. I’ll be imagining it’s you and even then I’ll make it brief, so at the end of the night? You better be ready to pay up . . .” He pinched my ass. “Because I’m collecting.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  MAX

  Breakfast was over too soon, which meant only one thing. Date number one. I waited on the pier for the first date to show up and was momentarily bummed and a bit jealous as I watched Jason, Colt, and Milo laughing on the beach. Becca soon joined them, with what looked like a mimosa in her hand.

  I’d never imagined what it would look like. Being a part of a relationship or the other half of a couple. In my mind it had always been Milo and me as friends, and maybe at some point something more.

  But now? I only had eyes for Becca.

  And she fit.

  She fit so perfectly with my friends that it almost freaked me out. I mean, after next week, what would happen? I’d never been the insecure guy. But I was suddenly panicked over my future, and not because I was so concerned for myself but because I finally saw someone sharing it with me.

  “All ready?” Rex sniffled and snapped his fingers at the cameraman. “Max, why don’t you tell us what you’re feeling right now?”

  “Er, excited,” I answered in a totally lame voice as my attention was again captured by Becca’s laughter on the beach.

  “Right.” Rex laughed. “You seem unable to control your excitement.”

  “That’s me,” I said dryly.

  “Oh, look, your date’s walking towards us. You kids have fun and remember, we’re not really here.”

  Ha, like I could forget Rex, the camera guy, the sound guy, one of the producers, and a makeup artist. Sure, but they weren’t there. I turned and pasted a smile on my face as Nicki came running up the beach. At least Minion had dropped the overalls and replaced them with jean shorts and a cute tank top that said, “Baller.”

  Ten bucks she has no idea what it even means.

  “Max!” she yelped, and then launched herself into my arms. I had no choice but to either catch her or let her flail into the ocean. I chose to catch her, you know, being a gentleman and all. “I’m so excited for our date!”

  I placed her on her feet and continued to give her a fake smile as she jumped up and down right in front of me. And not in a cute “Aw, bless her heart, she’s excited” way, but in an obnoxious “Holy shit, what pill did you take before coming?” way.

  “Er . . .” I placed my hands on her shoulders, willing her to keep her feet planted on the ground. “You ready to go?”

  Her eyes widened. “We’re leaving the Island?”

  “Sort of.” I sighed wistfully. “It seems they’ve found life on another one of the islands. The zombies haven’t made it that far and we’re the first explorers to go out and scan the area for food!”

  She blinked.

  “Nothing?” I squinted. “Nothing at all?”

  A tear ran down her cheek before she wiped it away. “I, um, I’m really scared of zombies.”

  “Because . . .” I sighed. “They’re real?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you also happen to have one of those doomsday shelters and enough food and water to last for ten years?”

  “How’d you know?” she gasped. “Daddy says not to tell anyone on account that the government may want to shut us down.”

  “I highly doubt they’d shut you down, I mean it’s your property, right?” Okay, fine, I could engage with crazy.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “But I’m pretty sure the guns are illegal.”

  “Guns?” I choked, then looked into the camera.

  Yeah, ten bucks said Daddy was gonna be shut down a lot sooner than she realized.

  “But shhh,” she whispered. “Don’t tell. It will be like our first secret.”

  “Ha-ha.” I smiled. “On national television.”

  “Exactly!” She smacked me across the chest. “Max, you’re funny.”

  “I’m not,” I disagreed, “at all.”

  She giggled anyway.

  Never in my life have I ever—HA! Hey, that’s a game! Sorry, refocus: never have I ever tried to sound boring. I mean, for shit’s sake, being boring is so . . . boring. I’m not boring. I don’t like boring people. I hate libraries because they’re too quiet. I thought it was stupid to have silent time in preschool and I’m pretty sure that I was the reason for recess being reestablished in high school, feel me? But in that moment I tried, I desperately tried to sound like Jason. Oh, don’t roll your eyes. You know what I mean . . . cop who eats doughnuts and drinks his coffee black and only likes sex in like two positions.

  Okay, fine, so maybe I was judging him.

  But still.

  I tried channeling Jason.

  But apparently I was too damn interesting.

  Swear, had I told Nicki/Minion that I collected potatoes for a living she would have gasped and thrown her arms around my neck screaming, “I love them mashed!” She wasn’t a challenge, she was passive and agreeable, and nothing about her inspired me.

  And maybe that was the problem.

  Becca not only made me want to be a better man, she made me think that it was possible to want better for myself, to take time and actually think about what I wanted for my future. And she’d done all of that in two weeks.

  An hour into the date I contemplated jumping off the boat or faking my own death. Then again, I had Becca’s date to look forward to.

  I still had to choose three out of the five girls.

  And sadly, Minion was not a front-runner.

  I realized this not at first, which I know sounds shocking. I mean for shit’s sake she believed in zombies! I mean, I do too, but I don’t take it far enough to stock my house with illegal firearms and weaponry.

  They had freaking ninja stars and astronaut food.

  No, the straw that broke the camel’s back was when Minion picked up
her fork during our midmorning snack and proceeded to comb her hair.

  I, thinking she was channeling the Little Mermaid much as I was channeling Jason, burst out laughing and said, “Ariel?”

  To which she replied, “Who the hell is Ariel? My name’s Nicki!”

  I stared, openmouthed, and then laughed, because SURELY she was joking, right? Finally she was showing a sense of humor.

  Nope. Not joking.

  She then proceeded to burst into tears. When I tried to calm her down and explain who Ariel was she called me a whore and Ariel a bitch, and tried to impale my cheek with said fork, all before getting up from the little picnic and stomping all the way to the boat and sitting in the corner.

  It took me ten minutes to get her to respond to me because she was so upset, she’d somehow reverted to childhood and would only respond if I said, and I quote, “Baby girl, come out, come out, wherever you are.” Mind you, we only discovered this after Rex made a phone call to the on-set shrink, who then explained that when Nicki was upset she went back into her other personality.

  Yeah, I’m going to stop right there and give you a moment to let that sink in. Her other personality.

  Also known as Baby Nicki.

  I’m being serious as a heart attack.

  Needless to say Baby Nicki did not earn a kiss, and I got an earful about how I should never, under any circumstances, call my dates by someone else’s name.

  Clearly she still didn’t get the Little Mermaid reference.

  I waved good-bye once we got back to the beach. Pretty sure even Rex was a bit mystified, because for once he had nothing to say and merely shook his head and said, “Next.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  MAX

  I’d like to think I’m an optimistic individual, so when Cat came barreling down the beach, nearly colliding with a crab and getting tangled up in a piece of seaweed, I thought to myself, self, there’s a real winner right there.

  Even when she started screaming obscenities into the otherwise peaceful morning air about how nature sucked the big one, I smiled.

  Because at least we agreed on something.

  Nature sucked balls.

  I was done with nature.

  Through.

  I wanted Becca and a fifth of whiskey, preferably served over her hot body.

 

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