Pucking Road Trip (Bay Rebels #3)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Campsite, New Mexico

E den

Why would anyone play truth or dare?

Isn’t it choosing to make yourself vulnerable and humiliated?

It’s handing a knife to a roomful of strangers and then offering your throat to them to be slit.

Do people play that as a game ?

My brow furrows in confusion.

“Look at that sunset. It’s as if the lake and mountains have been set on fire.” Shay lies on his back. His face is soft with wonder. “I love this wilderness camping shit. New Mexico is bloody brilliant.”

“Good pick for the campsite.” Robyn smiles at me.

“It certainly is. Plus, this second day of driving was smooth with the route that you chose, Eden. The timings are working out.” D’Angelo relaxes on a wooden log next to Shay.

D’Angelo’s pride in me makes the flare of pain down my side from being unable to move around all day insignificant.

Pain is nothing. I can handle it.

But D’Angelo’s approval is everything.

He’s given me control over this journey. I never thought that a boss would believe in me.

I’ve spent my life in my brother’s shadow, being scolded and punished because I wasn’t as smart, talented, or socially capable as him by teachers, professionals, or coaches.

D’Angelo is different.

He sees and understands me.

He doesn’t want me to change.

He praises me when I’ve earned it.

Now, I feel like I’m my own man.

D’Angelo is sharing his long, woolen coat against the cool of the evening with Robyn, who’s perched next to him.

Robyn appears tired but as excited as Shay to be camping.

I’m sitting on the other side of the fire, which is surrounded by pine trees beside the lake.

The evening is filled with the gentle sounds of wildlife.

I feel most at home in the forest.

At peace.

Safe.

Tomorrow, we’ll be returning to civilization and the overwhelming noise and crowds.

It’s going to be tough to cope with.

I’ll withdraw into myself.

But tonight, I can relax and enjoy being outside with the people who have become my family.

I wrinkle my nose at the smoky scent of the fire, which is made sweeter by the marshmallow that I’m roasting over it on a stick.

Robyn insisted that it was traditional .

Transfixed, I watch the embers dance.

It only takes a single, tiny spark to start a fire.

“Are we simply going to ignore the whole truth or dare thing?” Robyn’s question jerks me away from the spell of the flames. “It’s freaking me out. We’ve avoided the press successfully, and Dad called earlier to tell me that the other players and staff are doing fine. But those messages are…”

“A mindfuck.” D’Angelo sighs. “The problem is that we all have enemies in our past who’d want to shake us up.”

“Nemeses.” Shay pillows his head on his arms. “It sounds like we should be saving the world or something.”

“Perhaps, we should concentrate on saving our asses first.” Robyn’s lips thin. “Whoever they are could want to distract us before these games. So, I say that we don’t give them the satisfaction.”

“Agreed.” I lean forward to turn and then remove the marshmallow from the fire, wincing as my ribs protest.

“Do you need your meds?” Robyn asks. “Cody will kick our asses, if we turn up with you at the arena in a worse state than we set out.”

“I’m doing my exercises. I’m fine.” I’m not ruining our first night camping with my shit.

Cody is the first person to want to talk to me and not my twin. I don’t want him to be angry with me and take back his offer to show me the seals that bask near his cottage.

“You’re not,” Shay points out.

I ignore him. “Here.”

I pass the first toasted marshmallow to Robyn. It’s a gooey mess, but she claps her hands in delight.

It’s my first attempt.

This is new to me but it feels right in a way that little does in my life.

I raise my eyebrow at D’Angelo.

He wrinkles his nose. “Not for me. I don’t wear designer clothes in order to smear…” He watches in horror the way that Robyn is waving her gooey treat dangerously close to his coat. “…although, it may be a lost cause anyway.”

“My clothes aren’t worth fuck all,” Shay says, cheerily. “So, load me up with melted sugar on a stick, until I’m sick.”

“You can have two,” I say, firmly, pushing the marshmallows onto a stick and then beginning to toast them over the fire.

Shay’s happiness isn’t dimmed. “I’ve always wanted to go camping. Thanks for this, bro.”

I remember.

In our first year at high school, the whole class went on a camping trip, apart from Shay and me.

Shay begged our parents in tears to be allowed to go for an entire weekend.

But they couldn’t afford it.

I sat in my room, glad that I couldn’t speak because then I didn’t need to tell them that I didn’t want to go.

I couldn’t.

The thought of being alone with all those new kids outside the classroom (kids who acted like I didn’t exist), was enough to tip me into panic attack.

I swallow. My throat feels thick with guilt. My words are caught in it.

Silently, I hold out the sweet smelling toasted marshmallows to my brother.

Shay sits up, taking the stick from me. “This is fantastic. A campfire and marshmallows. All we need now are ghost stories.”

“Ghost stories?” D’Angelo looks panicked.

Shay nibbles on his marshmallows. “That’s what people do, isn’t it? I mean, in the movies.”

“In the horror movies, if they want to die screaming two minutes later,” D’Angelo points out.

I ease my arm around my middle, settling back. I let the evening wash over me.

“I’ve never sat around like this.” I can hear the longing in Shay’s voice. “Couldn’t I tell you a story from London? Plus, there must be hundreds of spooky stories from Freedom.”

“What a surprise that you want to scare us.” D’Angelo quirks his brow.

“ Be scared, darlin’, ” Shay counters.

“Oh, I have one.” Robyn leans in closer to the fire. The light dances across her face. She looks fucking beautiful. “Who wants to hear the terrifying tale of Freedom’s haunted road?”

“Pass.” D’Angelo grimaces.

“Outvoted.” Shay crawls closer to Robyn, sitting at her feet like an eager disciple. “What’s the story, love?”

I watch the way that Robyn lays her hand on Shay’s head.

She’s telling this tale for his sake.

I love her for that…for giving him this.

What he missed.

“Be careful, if you drive your Harley on the coastal road that leads out of town,” Robyn whispers, dramatically.

D’Angelo rolls his eyes.

Shay tips up his head, however, and his gaze is fixed intently on Robyn, drinking in every word that she says.

“Why?” Shay’s breathing faster.

“Because of the old bridge.” Robyn’s gaze now sweeps to me with a wink. “You should avoid driving under it, unless…”

She lets the word hang there in the night.

My skin goosebumps.

“What?” D’Angelo demands.

My lips twitch.

He’s as caught as Shay is in the story, despite himself.

“Unless you want to meet the dead who haunt it,” Robyn replies in a hushed whisper. “Like the group of friends who took the risk one night and…”

“Yes?” Shay’s eyes are wide.

“When they returned to town, they were half-crazed with wild stories of creatures with red eyes. Their car windows were fogged and covered in bizarre handprints.”

Shay shudders. “As soon as we’re back, I’m driving to that bridge.”

Robyn sits back with a huff. “That’s not the point of the story.”

“If we told our little thrill seeker here that a mountain was the deadliest in the world, he’d still climb it,” D’Angelo grumbles.

“It depends what was at the top.” Shay grins. “Now, if it meant getting to any of you three, then of course I would.”

“How reckless but romantic.” Robyn exchanges a glance with D’Angelo, then they both snatch Shay by the shoulders and hold him still, as they kiss over his face, until they’re all laughing.

This is what I wanted.

Hoped for.

My brother’s happiness makes me happy. I could survive on it alone.

Shay turns his head to me, giggling. “Save me.”

“I’m too comfortable.” I relax further next to the warmth of the fire.

Perhaps, I could spend some weekends like this in the forest at Captain’s Hall, sleeping beneath the open sky.

My wild squirrel, Puck, could sleep next to me.

Shay gasps in mock outrage. “So much for the Circle of Twins.”

“You can escape our clutches by telling us a ghost story from London,” Robyn offers.

“Deal.” Shay struggles away from his kissing attackers to kneel by the fire. He looks set to act out his story for us. “How about I tell you one of London’s darkest urban legends? Trust me, London has a lot, and fuck me, they’re dark. In Epping Forest there’s a pool. But it’s no ordinary pool because this one murders people. Parents warn their kiddies, don’t sneak out at night into the woods because the waters may swallow you.”

“That’s not real.” D’Angelo is pale.

“It is,” I reply.

No urban legend is true . But this one exists.

I love myths and legends. I’ve studied them.

And this one is fascinating.

Shay points at D’Angelo. “A doubter. Well, that’s what the poor teenagers thought who ended up being drawn towards it and then drowned in its murky depths. You see, three hundred years ago a couple fell deeply in forbidden love and met to fuck at the side of this beautiful pond. But the woman’s bastard of a dad found out and murdered her, right there. Then the bloke killed himself in despair.”

“That’s so sad,” Robyn says. “Just because their dad didn’t agree with the relationship.”

D’Angelo looks away.

Shay pushes his hair back from his face. “The supernatural world must have thought so too because the water of that pool became inky black. The wildlife died. Look it up. Many people have been killed at its edges—”

D’Angelo claps his hands together once. “And that’s enough trying to give your dom nightmares for a year. You’re truly not scared of anything are you, cucciolo?”

Shay glances away. “Actually, I’m frightened of plenty.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” I blurt. “Your nightmare ? Why would the person behind the text want you to face it?”

D’Angelo’s piercing stare meets mine. “I don’t know nor do I care. I don’t hand psychos my own knife to gut me with. Why would I talk about something like that?”

I find it hard enough to make any words crawl from my throat.

But fears? Weaknesses?

My worst nightmares?

I understand why this is hard for D’Angelo.

“I trust you with all of myself.” To my surprise, Robyn’s expression becomes determined. “My greatest fear is that I’ll lose the people who I love just like I did Mom.”

“Cara mia.” D’Angelo pulls Robyn closer against his side.

Instantly, Shay launches himself forward to wrap his arms around Robyn’s legs. He rests his head on her lap, kissing her thigh in comfort.

Robyn cards her fingers through Shay’s hair.

I study Robyn in confusion.

How did she simply voice it like that?

She made it look easy.

I clench my hands.

Nothing has happened. She’s been surrounded by love and support. She’s survived saying those words out loud.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to sit up.

The fire crackles loudly in the quiet. The smoke stings my eyes.

If Robyn can do it, then I can try.

“My greatest fear,” I stare into the fire, hearing Shay’s sharp intake of breath but focusing on the dancing flames, “is that Shay and I are still trapped in the Room. Or I died there. I’m not sure. And none of this is real. I’m not .”

Silence.

I don’t dare to look up from the fire.

“Dee,” Shay sounds shattered. “Please, look at me.”

I can’t.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have said it out loud.

I’ve kept it inside all these years.

I should have fucking known that it was a mistake to let it past my lips.

It’s one of those things that you’re not meant to say like how I don’t feel human, I don’t understand what people are feeling most of the time, or how often I fantasize about finding the couple who locked Shay and me up and burning them to ash.

What have I done?

“I didn’t mean that,” I say, hurriedly.

“Don’t lie.” Shay’s voice is funny like he’s crying. “There’s not a wrong way to feel. Sometimes, I have nightmares that I’m back in the Room too. One of the reasons that I don’t sleep well is a fear that I won’t wake up…here…but instead, back there.”

This startles me enough to look up at my brother.

Robyn and D’Angelo both have their hands on Shay’s shoulders in comfort.

Tears glimmer in Shay’s eyes. Lit by the fire’s light, they look like stars.

Perhaps, this is something that you can admit, if Shay can.

When I glance at Robyn, she gives me a reassuring smile.

It steels me, freeing my words further. “It’s safer not to be seen because then you don’t need to risk being rejected. But at college…” Shit, am I truly going to tell them this? Even Shay doesn’t know about it. Shay stares at me, anguished. “In the first few weeks, I didn’t want to let my brother down by being unable to make a single friend. But I didn’t understand how to be…a real person. I wasn’t sure that I was one. So, I studied a popular man on the hockey team who made it look easy.”

My gaze slides away and up to the watchful night sky.

“You don’t need to tell us this,” D’Angelo says. “But you’re surrounded by true friends now. People who love and care about you. I promise you this, Eden Prince, you’re the most real person I know.”

Shocked, my gaze shoots to D’Angelo’s.

His expression is open and sincere.

It sparks a sensation inside me that I haven’t experienced before, of belonging .

I’m no longer locked up. My words aren’t caged. I’m free.

“I analyzed how this man smiled, made up nicknames for everyone on the team, even the designer socks that he wore for luck on game nights,” I continue.

Shay’s brow furrows. “Wait, I remember you saving for designer socks. They cost more than anything you owned. You were sort of obsessed about it. But then, after a couple of weeks, you threw them in the trash.”

“When I was alone, I mimicked him in the mirror.” The tips of my ears redden, but I force myself to tell the truth. “Then one day, I decided to risk it and copy him in public. I waited until Shay was talking to coach on the ice, then strolled up to the man’s group of friends in the locker room.” I shudder. So, this is what public humiliation feels like. Hot and sickening. I’d almost forgotten. “But instead of accepting me like they did him, they slammed me against the lockers. Later, I told Shay that I got the bruises from practice. They called me the loser twin . They laughed at me . They demanded to know why I was smiling like a freak?”

“Assholes,” Robyn growls.

“I never tried to make a friend again. Because it was my own fault for thinking that I could be likable. I thought that if I only copied somebody, I could be. But that’s when I realized people saw through it. It wasn’t real. My emotions weren’t . I wasn’t .”

Shay crawls across the dirt to throw his arms around me.

He’s shaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Dee?” Shay whispers.

“You were having a good time at college. I didn’t want to spoil it.”

“I wasn’t. I was with Blythe.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about her ?”

“We’re both idiots,” Shay says through his tears. “No more secrets.”

I nod.

Then I yelp, when Shay yanks my hair. “Does that feel real enough? I can pinch your ass to prove it too.”

“I’m convinced.”

“I’ll pinch it too,” Robyn adds. “I’ll do it every day, if I need to.” That’s not a deterrent coming from Robyn. “And I love your smile. I live for it. Don’t listen to people who try to make you feel small, only because they are. You don’t need to try and be like anyone else. The man who I see in front of me right now is talented, gorgeous, and not only likable but fucking lovable .”

When Robyn says it, I feel like maybe it could be true.

When D’Angelo’s phone vibrates, I stiffen at the same time as he does.

Shay disentangles himself from me, careful of my sling.

He sits next to me with his head on my shoulder like he used to do when we were younger.

“Don’t look at the message,” Robyn pleads.

“I can’t ignore it, in case it’s from coach.” D’Angelo drags out his phone, reluctantly.

“What’s it say?” Robyn chews on her nail.

“One word.” D’Angelo’s eyes flash. “ Choose .”

“And now we’re in a Ghostbusters film.” Shay glances around at the shadowy trees. “I better not be tempting fate, but unless there are hidden snipers, the bastard behind those texts can’t force you.”

“But what does it mean?” Robyn hugs her arms around herself.

“Nothing good.” D’Angelo slips off his coat, draping it fully around Robyn.

Then he stands, shaking out his arms.

“What are you doing?” Robyn demands.

“They want a dancing hockey player, then they can have one.” D’Angelo wrenches off his jacket, tossing it over the log. “I’m accepting the dare. We have no idea if this text harasser is Wilder, Melanie, Blythe, a journalist or any number of disgruntled friends, enemies, or players from our pasts. Right now, I don’t give a fuck. You three are my priority. This is directed at me, and I won’t risk it impacting on anyone else. I’ve made promises to keep you safe and I’m keeping them. If I need to look like a dancing dumbass online to do that, then so be it.”

And that’s why D’Angelo is my friend, boss, and fucking hero.

“This is a mistake,” Robyn insists.

Yet D’Angelo holds up his phone and records live as evidence the most furious dance under the moonlight that I’ve ever seen or imagined.

Shay watches him, spellbound.

D’Angelo looks like a war god, celebrating a victory.

Then he switches off his phone; he’s breathing hard. “There. Done. That’s the end of it.”

“It’s not.” I throw a stick onto the fire, and the flames flare up. “Now, you’ve told them that the game has just begun.”