None.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" her mom asked, sounding as if she didn't want to pry, but felt it was her maternal obligation to do so.

Amazingly, Kylie wanted to answer. She couldn't and wouldn't tell her mother everything, but she could tell her some.

"Someone told me something in confidence. And I ... told someone else. At the time, I really thought telling it might help ... fix a problem.

But..."

"But it didn't help?" her mom asked.

"No," Kylie said. "I mean, not that I can see yet."

"Kylie, it sounds as if you were trying to do the right thing. I wouldn't be so hard on yourself. This is just a little hiccup, girl." Kylie almost laughed at her mother's chosen words. Wasn't that exactly what she'd told Miranda? Maybe Kylie was more like her mom than she knew.

Tightness gripped her chest.

"I love you, Mom," Kylie said without thinking.

"Oh, baby," her mom said, now sounding as if she was going to cry. "I love you, too. Is there anything I can do to help? I'll come there and kick ass if I have to."

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A tear rolled down Kylie's check. "You'd kick ass for me?"

"In a New York minute."

Kylie chuckled and sniffled at the same time.

"Are you ready for a change of subject? Something fun?" her mom asked, sounding excited. "It's the reason I called."

"Yes." Kylie wiped her eyes. She really could use some good news. "You'll never guess what I signed us up for that Friday night when you're back."

"What?" Kylie asked, and realized she didn't really dread going home anymore. It would be good to spend some time with Mom, to hopefully get away from the problems pressing down on her at the camp. "You were the one who got me thinking about it."

"Thinking about what, Mom?" Kylie asked, sensing her mom's excitement.

"A ghost hunt. Remember, you mentioned the falls being haunted at the camp?"

"A ghost hunt?" Kylie couldn't believe her ears.

"It's a dinner at a reputedly haunted B&B and then they take us on a tour. Isn't that totally cool?"

Kylie dropped back on her pillow and now she really wanted to cry. "Yeah. Totally..." not "... cool."

Thirty minutes after Kylie had hung up, she started counting sheep, inviting sleep to come take her away. While sheep number one hundred took a flying leap across her bed, Kylie's mind started replaying her argument with Holiday.

"How he feels doesn't matter. I didn't share that with you to tell anyone else," Holiday had said.

"I'm sorry. I am," Kylie had said. "And I know it was wrong, but I think ... I mean, it's almost as if you're letting what your fiance did to you stop you from seeing the possibilities with Burnett.  You're punishing him for something that he didn't do."

Then her mind completely skipped to the argument she'd had with Derek.

"It's always about sex, isn't it?" she had said.

"No. I wasn't talking about that," he had countered.

Kylie recalled all the anger welling up inside at that moment.

Bottledup anger, leftover anger. Anger she'd felt toward ... Trey. You're punishing him for something that he didn't do.

"Oh, shit!" She sat up. Had she done the same thing she'd accused Holiday of doing? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Derek had never, not even once, pressured her about sex. His statement about her pulling away had everything to do with her dodging him. Not about her getting naked.

Then a bit of her mom's dialogue came into play. "We all make mistakes.

You just need to apologize."

Mom was right. Which Kylie realized was another thing she never thought she'd ever catch herself thinking where her mom was concerned.

But damn it, her mom was right. Kylie needed to apologize. Standing up, she shucked off her nightshirt and slipped back into her too-short jeans, her too-tight bra, too-tight tennis shoes, and a T-shirt, then went to find Derek.

The moment Kylie stepped outside, the humid hot air surrounded her. She started to head toward the dining hall and then stopped. Derek generally left the nighttime events early to call his mom. Not that he told everyone what he was doing. But he'd confided in her.

Warmth filled her chest. She liked that he'd confided in her. Oh, heck, she really, really liked Derek, and with all her heart, she hoped he'd accept her apology. Because she didn't want to go into what she had to say around super-hearing individuals, she headed toward his cabin. She set her pace at a slow run, which only a couple of weeks ago would have been amazingly fast for her. As she moved, she felt the trees hovering above. She felt the wind stir her hair. She caught a glimpse of the bright stars, but she didn't care too much about the scenery. Instead she concentrated on what she would tell Derek when she saw him.

Halfway there, the feeling hit. The feeling as if someone was watching her. She slowed her pace and listened. The night was still chirping, there was no dead or unnatural silence, but she still felt it. Glancing from right to left to the edges of the woods, she checked to see if the wolf was back.

There were no golden eyes peering back at her from the brush. She tried to convince herself it was nothing, but she picked up her pace, eager to find Derek-eager to have Derek's solid, bigger frame beside her. His arms around her.

Her head on his shoulder.

Maybe his mouth melting against hers.

Oh yeah, thinking about Derek chased away her fears.

She made that last turn down the trail and saw there were lights on in his cabin. Someone was there. "Please let it be him."

She made it another hundred feet when she noticed that his cabin's front door was open. That was a little odd. When she got up the porch steps, she noted the smell. The ripe berry scent. She hadn't yet defined the aroma when her tennis shoe hit a slick spot and she went down.

Plopping down on her butt, she pressed her palm against the porch to lift up. But the sensation of something wet and thick beneath her palm gave her pause.

That's when she recognized the sweet berry scent.

Blood.

Her gaze shot to the porch.

A lot of blood.

The rectangle of light pouring from the doorway caught her attention and Kylie saw it. Dark red droplets led the way into the cabin like breadcrumbs in the forest.

Her heart stopped.

Oh, God. "Derek!" she screamed his name, but no answer bounced back.

She lunged to her feet and ran into the cabin, screaming his name over and over.

Chapter Fourteen

"Derek?" Her heart pounded. She followed the trail of blood, through the living room, down the hall. It led to a closed door. She grabbed the knob. Locked.




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