The Year of Second Chances (A Sunnyvale Novel Book 3) (10 page)

BOOK: The Year of Second Chances (A Sunnyvale Novel Book 3)
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“Take a deep breath,” he says, noting my spastic, uneven breathing. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one who can’t stop thinking about the last time we stood like this, how he licked and bit my skin.

While he’s given me a few kisses here and there, he hasn’t nibbled at my neck since then. And we haven’t
really
kissed yet. I want to, though. Boy, do I want to. Like, right now. I almost can’t resist. He smells so amazing, like soap and cologne and everything that’s Kai. And he feels so warm, like fresh-out-of-the-oven, homemade chocolate chip cookies. Mmm … cookies … It makes me want to turn around and take a bite …

“You okay?” he whispers in my ear, tracing circles on my hip. “You seem nervous.”

Get a grip on yourself, Isa. Jesus. He’s not actually a cookie.

“Yep. I’m just peachy.” I clear my throat, hoping to clear the lustful thoughts clouding my judgment. It helps a drop, but not enough to entirely distract me from Kai’s fingers wandering across my body. “I just really want to hit the target.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to this time.” He sounds absolutely confident.

I’m not sure I agree with him. In fact, I question if my aim will be even worse with him “helping” me like he is now.

I give it a go, anyway, and pull the trigger. Surprisingly, I manage to hit the paper zombie. Definitely not badass zombie slayer worthy, but it’s a start.

“See? There you go.” He steps back and raises his hand for a high-five.

I tap my palm against his, too aware that we’ve entered buddy-buddy mode again. Then he captures my hand and kisses my knuckles.

“Well, aren’t you just Prince Charming.” Sarcasm drips from my tone, thick like melted caramel.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he teases with a wink.

Pressing back a grin, I shake my head and shoot at the target again. It takes me five shots to hit the paper zombie in the head. Then Kai and I gather our stuff and hike down to the main course, which is a flat section in a large warehouse decorated with hay bales that create several winding mazes.

A twenty-something-year-old guy with floppy brown hair greets us as we walk in and tells us to wait until he starts the timer. I’m unsure what he means by a timer, but I note two different entryways into the maze.

I turn to Kai in confusion. “Wait a minute. Which side are we supposed to start on?”

“We’re each going in a different one.” He grins deviously as he points up to a large digital timer on the wall. “Because we’re going to be competing against each other. The person who shoots the most zombies and makes it through their course first wins.”

I put on my best pouty face. “That’s so not far. You’re going to kick my butt.”

“Now, that’s no way to start out a competition.” He tsks at me, looking as though he’s enjoying this way too much. “Where’s your optimism?”

I hitch a finger over my shoulder. “It’s back on the practice floor along with the crap-load of splattered paintballs I accidentally shot on the floor.”

He struggles not to laugh. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a head start.”

“No way. We’re doing this fairly.” I face the entrance on the right with my chin held high, and my shoulders squared. “That way, when I kick your ass, you won’t have an excuse for why you lost.”

With a grin, he gently tugs on the end of my ponytail. “There’s that optimism I love.”

His smile is contagious, and I feel a grin pull at my own lips.

“Man, that smile almost makes me feel bad,” he says with a guilty look on his face.

My smile falters, my forehead creasing. “For what?”

“For this.” He grabs my hand and spins me around like a ballerina until I’m so dizzy I can barely stand. Then he lets go of my hand and races forward, taking off into the maze.

“That was so not fair!” I shout through a laugh as I stumble and sway toward the entrance of my course.

It takes about thirty seconds for the vertigo to dwindle, and then I take off, ready to win this. I wind and zigzag down the path, wishing I could see over the wall of hay bales and spot Kai. Every time I reach a corner, I slow down to a jog, fearing a zombie is going to be waiting for me. But after two very uneventful minutes tick by, I grow concerned that maybe I’m not doing something correctly. Perhaps I started in the wrong place or something.

I turn around to backtrack my footsteps yet freeze when a zombie appears around the corner in front of me. His arms are painted to look like rotting flesh, his plaid shirt and clothes are torn, and he’s wearing a paintball mask to protect the upper section of his face. His mouth is slack, and he groans hungrily as he comes at me, doing a fantastic impersonation of an emotionless, hungry zombie.

I panic and fumble to raise my gun and fire. The first shot is a miss, but the next one hits him square in the center of his mask. His body drops to the ground like a sack of spoiled potatoes.

“Score!” I fist pump the air then hop over the zombie and sprint down the maze, ready to kick some more butt.

As I round the next corner, I don’t slow down, trying to shave off some minutes on my time. The more zombies I shoot, the more my confidence soars, and I start to wonder if maybe I’ll be able to win. All my worries gradually diminish as I become focused on the task at hand.

Kai did an amazing thing by bringing me here. It almost makes me feel bad about winning the competition, but not enough to stop trying my hardest.

When I spot what looks like the finish line, I give another fist pump and add a little twirl before taking off in a mad sprint. As I near the giant finish banner, a zombie wearing a torn baby blue prom dress and a broken tiara materializes out of nowhere and blocks my view.

“All right, zombie beotch, move out of the way,” I say, raising my paintball gun.

My finger hovers on the trigger as I line up my shot, and suddenly, the zombie woman’s red-stained lips curl into a smirk. I blink, taken aback. Every other zombie I’ve crossed paths with has been stone cold, playing the part of a zombie stuck in a famished-for-brains frenzy.

Her smile grows as my puzzlement deepens. I shuffle back, startled. Then the lights shut off. My heart leaps in my chest as a hand comes down over my mouth. The paintball gun falls from my hands. I try to let out a scream, but the hand clamps down harder on my mouth, suffocating me.

A heart faltering moment later, an arm snakes around my waist and drags me back into the darkness.

Chapter 10

Kai

 

I take my sweet time getting through the maze, shooting zombies whenever they appear and casting glances at the timer on the wall. I have no plans of actually winning the race. The whole twirling, dizzy stunt I pulled at the starting line was so Isa thinks I’m playing fair. I’m going to let her win because it’ll make her happy, and that’s what today’s about: no worrying about murder cases, no worrying about unknown texts, no worrying period.

As the finish line comes into view, I slow my pace down to a lazy walk, taking my sweet-ass time, wanting to be certain she wins. If only I could catch a glimpse over the wall and spot her, I could make sure I don’t come in too hot.

Hmmm …

An idea hits me, and I stop near a corner, debating whether to climb up the wall and peek over. I’ll probably get in trouble. No climbing on the hay is one of the rules on the paper we had to sign before we could play.

But you know what? Fuck it. I’m totally doing it. I’ve never been one for following the rules, anyway.

Setting the paintball gun down on the dirt ground, I prop my foot on a hay bale and start to hoist myself up. But my phone buzzes, and I jump back to the ground to fish it out of my pocket, figuring I’ll check the text and kill some time. Then I pause, realizing I have Isa’s phone. She gave it to me when we got here because she was worried it would fall out of the pocket of those tight, very flattering skinny jeans she’s wearing.

I’m starting to put the phone away when the
unknown number
pops up as an incoming text. Worried, I tap the screen and read the messages.

Unknown: Beware of the zombies.

Unknown: Not all of them are here to play.

The lights shut off, and darkness smothers the course. My head snaps up, my gaze skimming the pitch black that has taken over the warehouse.

“Isa!” I call out, attempting not to panic, but that message … It sounded like a threat. “Isa, can you hear me?”

My only answer is maddening silence.

I flip on the flashlight app and make my way through the darkness, painfully aware that Isa’s phone is in my hand, which means she has no way of getting any light.

“Isa, just say something!” I shout, my boots scuffing the dirt as I turn in circles, looking everywhere. “And I’ll find you—”

A scream cuts me off and sends a chill down my spine. I can’t tell if it’s her scream, but … Shit! What if it is?

Chucking the phone onto the nearest hay bale, I grab the top of the wall and hoist myself up. Then I scoop up the phone and jog on top the bales, using the phone as a spotlight on Isa’s side of the maze. People dressed as zombies are moving around blindly, and some blink up to ask me what’s going on.

“I have no idea,” I snap at a taller zombie whose face is painted to give the illusion of rotting flesh. “Have you seen the girl who was on this course?”

The zombie dude shakes his head, and I curse before continuing down the wall, the text replaying in my mind as I frantically search for her.

Beware of the zombies. Not all of them are here to play.

Does that mean the person who’s harassing Isa is hiding in the midst of the zombies below me? Is it my dumbass brother like I suspect?

“Kyler, I’m so going to kick your ass if this is you.” I slam to a halt and scan the light on each of their faces. Most of them appear stunned and lost, while some are wandering back toward the starting line, chatting to each other. None of them seem threatening.

“Fuuuuck.” I grind my teeth as I hike down the wall again. “Come on, Isa. Please, please, just say something—”

The lights illuminate across the course again, and l blink fiercely against the brightness.

“Sorry about that, everyone.” A static voice flows from the intercom. “We had a temporary power shortage, but the power is back on now.”

No shit, genius.

I shake my head and jog along the top of the hay wall, running the entire length of the maze. By the time I reach the end, there’s still no sign of Isa anywhere.

My panic skyrockets as I hop down from the hay bales. As I reach the exit of the maze, I spot a purple metal object in the middle of the doorway. My heart sinks when I realize what it is.

Isa’s paintball gun.

Worry lashes through me as I snatch up her paintball gun then push my way through the mob crowding the entrance.

“Get out of my way.” I not-so-nicely nudge people out of my way to get up to the front counter.

The guy who checked us in —Jay, as his nametag declares—is messing with the computer while a middle-aged woman with jet-black hair reams him for the power shortage.

“I don’t want a voucher.” She pounds her fist against the counter. “I want my money back. Do you know how dangerous it is to have the power go out like that and not have any backup lights? In fact, I’m pretty sure it breaks a lot of codes.”

Usually, my motto is all about being chill, but with Isa missing, any calm vanishes in the snap of a finger.

“She’s right.” I drop the paintball gun down on the counter. “It breaks a shit ton of codes.”

“Look, I just work here,” Jay replies, tapping keys on the keyboard, seeming frazzled. “And this place just opened. The boss is still working out some kinks.”

“Your boss has a way bigger problem than that,” I tell him, “because, right now, my friend’s missing, and the last place I saw her was on the course.”

He glances up at me with his brows knit. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how the last time I saw my friend was when we started the course,” I snap. “Now I can’t find her anywhere, but I did find her gun lying in the doorway.”

“Did you try to call her?” he asks, casting a nervous glance at the growing crowd.

“She doesn’t have her phone on her,” I say.

He stares at me like I’m a moron. “Well, maybe she bailed on you, you know. Girl’s do that sometimes.”

I’m about to go all
Fight Club
on him when someone bumps into the back of me. I turn around and shove the closest person to me, a guy around my age and height with brownish-red hair. “Back the hell off.”

He rolls his eyes then gives me another shove. “You back off, asshole. You’re holding up the line.”

He looks vaguely familiar, and I wonder if maybe I go to school with him. Normally, I’d put him in his place, but I have bigger problems to worry about right now, like finding Isa.

Reality crashes down on me hard, sharp, and painful. Isa might really be missing. Someone might have done something to her.

I reel back toward the cashier. “Look, I don’t give a shit what you think. My friend’s missing, and you need to find a way to search the building to look for her. Or maybe check the security cameras.”

He blinks at me like a clueless dumbass. “Security cameras? I don’t think we have security cameras.”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t have a backup power system, and you don’t have security cameras.” I shake my head. “You know what? Never mind. Let me talk to your manager.”

“Sure.” He backs for a doorway at the far back corner, taking his leisurely time.

I clench my hands into fists, resisting the urge to shout at him to hurry his ass up. Then I prop my elbows on the corner and lower my head into my hands.

“I’m so sorry, Isa,” I mumble. “I never should’ve let you wander off alone.”

I didn’t think the harasser would take things this far, especially if it is Kyler. I mean, it’s one thing to spread a bunch of flyers around the school, but it’s another thing to actually kidnap a person.

Did they take her, though? Maybe she’s just wandering around, looking for me. I’m having a hard time seeing my brother as a kidnapper. Perhaps Isa’s right behind me, and we just can’t see each other. She could be, although I have a sickening feeling in my stomach, a feeling connected to the scream I heard during the power shortage, that Isa’s in trouble.

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