I was actually a bit afraid for Max.
But he’d handled the situation with humor and class. Something I’d noticed about him in the past twelve hours. Even when people deserved to look stupid, he didn’t allow them to. He was sarcastic, funny, and had such a magnetic personality I almost believed it when girls said they had a connection to him.
How could they not?
I felt connected.
Then again, I was his partner for all things zombie, so maybe that was why. He’d created this “friendship” with me and it made me feel momentarily special.
“Contestants!” Rex clapped his hands and approached us on the beach. He’d changed into a white linen suit, which did nothing but make his orange complexion look more orangey. I cringed when his white smile nearly blinded all sea life behind me and fought to hide my laugh when I noticed that the suit was semi see-through. Huh, who knew guys wore Spanx?
“Welcome to the Island!”
The remaining fifteen of us did a little cheer and waited for the rest of his instructions.
“Deep in the Island there is a feast set up for you and your Bachelor. I’m pairing you off. The Bachelor will be on his own—”
“Um, sorry, what?” Max asked, his laughter forced. “Can’t I have a partner? A compass? A horse? Give me something, Rex.”
“Our Bachelor will use his skills as a wilderness expert to not only find his own way but try to do so first. Max, if you beat the women’s teams, you’ll get your first choice of two dates for the next day. If one of the women’s teams beats you, they will not only get to pick who you’ll go on your date with, but you’ll have to get rid of one of the two women on the date. Regardless, one woman will go home, but you have more power if you win because you can choose someone you are already on the fence about to leave or stay.”
“So either way I date?” Max asked.
“Right.” Rex nodded. “But if you don’t win, you don’t get to choose who you spend your time with.”
A dawning realization appeared on Max’s face as he looked around at all the women, most of them just salivating at the prospect of spending time with him. My eyes fell to Gina, aka Amazon, who made a grunting noise and then blew him a kiss. Max choked and then coughed.
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Rex laughed. “Max here trained with Bear Grylls for two years! He could do it blindfolded.” More laughter. “In fact . . .”
Oh, no. This wasn’t good.
“We have so much confidence in Max’s skills that we’re giving the women a ten-minute head start!”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “How . . . gracious of us.” His eyes flickered to mine. Yeah, doubtful the man had any wilderness training. He screamed city boy. From his clothes to his perfectly clean fingernails and noncalloused hands. He’d probably never even seen a cow in real life, let alone hiked through the tropics. I had half a mind to feel bad for him.
“All right!” Rex chuckled. “Pair off!”
I made a beeline for Amazon and slapped her shoulder. “Partners?”
Her eyes held mine for a brief moment before scanning the rest of her options. Most of the other girls were jumping up and down, fanning themselves, applying lipstick—right, because that scared away mosquitoes and tarantulas.
“Seems so.” Amazon nodded.
I tried to get Max’s attention, but he was held captive by Rex, who was explaining more rules. At least they sounded like rules. But he did say something like “Death, bites, creatures” . . . poor Max.
“Hey,” a male voice said from behind me. I turned and came face-to-face with one of the most gorgeous guys I’d ever seen in my entire life.
“Um, hi?” I swallowed. “Can I help you?”
He winked. “I’m part of your production crew. The rest of us just got on the Island a few minutes ago and made our way up the beach. Most of us lost our luggage so we were trying to make arrangements.”
“Cool.” I looked down at the sand immediately.
“So, you having fun?”
“Are you supposed to be asking me these questions?”
The camera was forced into my face by the crew, and the guy smirked. “Yeah, that’s kind of my job while I’m here. Now tell me, what do you think of our Bachelor?”
“He’s . . .” My gaze flickered to Max. “He’s really great.”
“He peed the bed when he was little,” the guy said helpfully.
“Oh, um, okay.”
“Had a deathly allergic reaction to shellfish when he was eight, puffed up like a balloon, swear he still screams when he sees a clam.”
“Uh . . .”
“Oh, but he has his strong suits. Did you know his favorite thing in the world is spinach? Seriously. He used to eat it in bed at night because he thought it would make him gain muscle.”
“Um, wow, that’s a lot of information for you to know.”
“Fact sheet.” He pulled out a white piece of paper, then tucked it back in his pocket. “So you ready to do this?”
“Yeah.”
“Payback,” he mumbled.
“Pardon?”
We started walking toward the rest of the groups.
“Oh, nothing,” he sang.
When we passed Max he winked at me, then slowly looked at the film crew with us. When his eyes fell on the guy next to me his eyes dripped with hatred, then irritation, then hatred. The guy gave Max a little wave and blew him a kiss. What the heck?
“Damn it!” Max shouted.
“What did you say your name was again?” I inquired once we were a few minutes away from the beach.
“The name’s Reid.” He grinned. “Nice to meet you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MAX
I watched Reid disappear into the jungle with Becca . . . my Becca. My friend! The only girl helping me keep my sanity! The gummy-bear-loving bastard son of a SLUT! I stomped toward the edge of the tree line but was held back by Rex. “Sorry, you still got five minutes on the clock, buddy.”
Side note. Being called buddy? All it did was made me think of the stupid Buddy movies . . . damn those golden retrievers for making me sob. And right now? The last thing I needed was to think about the golden retrievers who could play all sports with such talent that it made me feel like less of a man.
Stupid dogs. I hated dogs. Well, any dog but my own—but he was more human than animal.
Shh, don’t tell. Women say it’s a bad sign when man isn’t a fan of man’s best friend. But I had my reasons. After all, it’s a proven point that dogs get more play from a girl when you are in a relationship. When your significant other comes home from a long day? What does she do? She grabs a bottle of wine (women lie when they say they just drink one glass). At any rate, they grab the “glass” (notice I use the term loosely) and sit on the couch. And what happens next?
Man’s “best friend” jumps onto her lap.
There’s petting.
There’s kissing.
There’s cuddling.
And where does that leave me? On the other side of the couch with blue balls and a dripping hatred for the traitorous canine.
“You’re up!” Rex slapped me on the back.
Gathering my thoughts, steering them far away from dogs, goats, and even Reid, I trounced through the first part of the forest.
“Map me.” I held out my hand to Big Al.
“No map.” He sighed. “You’re supposed to follow the trail of the girls and then when you get close enough, use the power of scent to find the food before anyone else.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.” Big Al grinned. “So, sniff away.”
“Right. I’ll just . . .” I looked down at the footprints and sighed. At least they led somewhere. I could only imagine what other fabrications Jason had come up with for my application. Why the hell didn’t they fact-check? My Facebook profile wasn’t set to private! All you had to do was scroll through my many pictures of shopping in Vegas and vacationing in Miami Beach and you’d
get the hint.
Max doesn’t do nature.
I mean nature’s fine and all, and I’m glad we have trees and sure I’ll support Save the Rainforest. I donate to the Peace Corps, for shit’s sakes! All right? I donate money to those who enjoy dying in the jungle—so I don’t have to be in it. Not everyone’s made to actually explore, all right? I’m more like the king who sits on the throne and tells Christopher Columbus to get his ass in the ship and discover the New World, while sipping wine and eating grapes.
With a groan I followed the footprints and swore when three sets all went in different directions.
Following those women into the jungle was like following a blind cat that couldn’t swim across the Atlantic.
Oh, and P.S., for those still thinking about a blind cat trying to swim across the Atlantic. Spoiler alert. It dies.
You’re welcome.
I wasn’t going to win. I was going to lose and I was going to find Reid at the campsite flirting with Becca, making her laugh, touching her. I grabbed a tree branch, albeit a small one, and snapped it in half. Then was half-tempted to Tarzan my way through the forest.
He was on my territory. My island—literally. And I could only assume he was hoping to screw things up for me . . . but hadn’t the whole gummy bear incident been Milo’s fault? Why was he seeking revenge on me? Maybe it was because when Milo’s grandma asked for Reid’s number I gave her his address and a Garmin so she could locate him. Probably didn’t help that I put a tracking device on his car.
Ha-ha. I kill myself.
Yeah, I probably should have hidden the tracking device better.
Damn it!
A flash of color caught my eye.
Red?
Why did that look familiar? There was a piece of red fabric tied to one of the trees to my right. When I picked it up, my eyes fell on the ground next to the tree, where one set of footprints led away from the others.
“This way,” I said in my most commanding explorer-like voice, which just so happened to sound a bit British. I went against my better judgment and followed the separate set. After a few feet I noticed another piece of red cloth.
Holy shit! I was like the Hansel to someone’s Gretel!
Please let Becca be Gretel because if it was Amazon then I was up a tree defenseless just waiting for her to ax me down. She’d do it slowly too, most women like that did. She’d lure me down with promises of safety, comfort, escape, and then she’d smother me, most likely seduce me, and . . .
I shuddered.
“A trail?” Big Al scratched his head. “You think it’s smart to go completely off the grid? The rest of the footprints went in the other direction.”
“Shh!” I held up my hand and then went down on my hands and knees, placing my ear against the ground.
It was vibrating.
“I think I hear something.”
“Max—”
“Shh!”
It was getting louder. Holy shit, I was officially a badass like Lewis and Clark. For real, I could have been the guy that discovered the Oregon Trail or the Columbia River.
“Max.” Big Al grabbed me, pulling me to my feet. “It’s a plane.”
I looked up, dirt caked to one side of my face. “I know.” I laughed and brushed the dirt off. “But there were also footprints, those of an Amazon.” I looked ahead. “Bet my life on it.”
“I really wouldn’t.” Big Al sighed.
The camera guy laughed.
“Hey!” I snapped my fingers in his direction. “No comments from the hired help.”
He flipped me off from behind the camera.
I glared directly into it, then turned back toward the trail. “We go this way.”
“Fine.” Big Al sighed.
We traveled inland for around twenty minutes. Finally the smell of food started permeating the air.
“Told you so,” I snorted, then stepped directly into hell.
Also known as a circle of rope that gripped my ankle, slammed me backward onto the ground, and pulled me up a tree.
Note to self, don’t step over cracks on the sidewalk and never, ever step over rope. Because you’ll fall on your ass.
“Got him!” A few female chuckles rang out. I blinked a few times. My mouth watered at the sight of the banquet table. A freaking feast for a king was waiting. But I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t the king in this scenario, more like the stuffed pig. Oink.
“Sorry.” Rex laughed. “You’re the last person to cross into the feast! This of course means the girls will battle for the date. This is how it’s going to work—”
I raised my hand, or, well, like, lowered it, almost grazing the dirt beneath my head. Holy shit, I was seriously seeing stars. “Can you untie me first?”
“Sorry.” Rex did not, in fact, look sorry. He looked excited, piqued, and a bit drunk—where the hell was my alcohol? “You stay upside down until someone cuts you down. In order to be cut down, the dates must be chosen, and since three teams got here at the same time, we’ll be doing a tiebreaker.” He looked directly into the camera. “It’s time to play catch! We’ll ask each team a question until one team gets all the questions right!”
“I don’t like the sound of that game,” I grumbled. Why the hell did they call it catch then? I was afraid to ask and didn’t really want to find out, especially if I had to somehow strategically catch something while hanging upside down.
“Aw, have a sense of humor!” Rex laughed louder, and this time the cackle sounded like that of an evil villain in a Disney movie. Great, so I was officially the Sleeping Beauty to Rex’s Maleficent.
Don’t ask me why I just called myself a princess.
Blood loss. It makes a man say stupid shit, it really does.
“Will the three teams step forward?”
I almost cried when I saw Becca and Amazon take a step toward us. Reid followed closely but sidestepped them so he was closer to me.
“Bastard,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Not the thing to say when you’re tied to a tree upside down, Brother. I’ve been put through hell. Do you even realize how many people I had to pay off to be here?”
“Aw, because you love me?” I grinned. Just kidding, I loved Reid. What a good brother. I mean he—“Reid, what’s that? What are you doing?”
“Snake.” He smirked. “Completely harmless.”
“What are you now? A snake expert! Please just put it down.”
“You sure?” Reid asked.
“Positive.”
“All right, but only because you asked.”
He slid the snake into my pant leg. I felt that bastard slide all the way to my knee, then get caught. Thank God for small favors.
Then Reid, the brother I was officially going to cross off my will, gave my jeans a little tug.
It was all the invitation that tiny bastard needed to slide all the way down the middle of my legs and tap one of my man parts.
“Son of a—” I tried to spin, I tried to wiggle, but my actions were in vain. The snake wasn’t going anywhere.
“Ha-ha!” Rex said. “Glad our Bachelor’s so excited.”
“Oh, he’s something!” I sang.
“Look at him go!” Reid echoed. “When he comes down you’ll all see his moves—his nickname was Chris Brown in high school, according to the producer fact sheet.”
The girls gushed.
The snake even seemed to pause. Were those his trigger words? Chris Brown? Would uttering those words make the little guy cower in fear?
“All right! Will the first team step forward?” Rex commanded, and Becca and Amazon stepped in front of me. “Your question has to do with pop culture.” He cleared his throat. “How many books are in the Twilight series?”
“Two!” Amazon shouted.
“WHAT?” I roared. “EVERYONE KNOWS IT’S FOUR!” Damn it. “EDWARD, BITE ME! I JUST WANT TO DIE.” Remember what I said about trigger words? I was wrong about Chris Brown and the snake.
His trig
ger word was Edward.
I felt fangs.
And heat.
And then I screamed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BECCA
Never in my life have I ever, ever heard a man scream so loud. It was like watching a horror film with the surround sound completely turned up. I winced as Max jerked to the left, then to the right, and then, with a horrified gasp, I covered my mouth as something . . . moved . . . in the front of his pants.
Holy crap!
No way.
No way.
I couldn’t stop looking. I mean, I wanted to, in the way that I wanted to be totally disgusted that he had the ability to use his parts like a small remote control race car, but wow, I had to wonder if he actually bruised the women he slept with.
“Get it out!” Max shouted.
“Um.” I licked my lips.
“Reid, please!”
WHAT? He wanted his producer to . . . unclothe him so his beast could roam free on what would be aired on national television?
“Edward, I’m sorry!” Max wailed.
“He named his penis Edward.” Reid chuckled. “Like the vampire. Tell me that’s not creepy.”
“Question number two!”
“Wait!” Max yelled. “I thought you said the game was called catch?”
At that point a ball was thrown at Max and one of the producers yelled, “Catch.”
It hit him square in the face.
“Forget I asked,” Max grumbled. “And how is this fun?”
“Each ball you catch gives you a free pass to skip the question for the team if you think they don’t know it,” Rex explained. “So you can help the team you’d like to win.”
“Hit me again!” Max pleaded.
“Next team!” Rex moved us out of the way while Grumpy and Sneezy stepped forward. “Your question is geography.”
“If they can’t spell it they sure as hell can’t answer it, Rex,” Max said under his breath. I’m pretty sure Reid and I were the only ones who heard. Funny, watching Max try to cross his arms while his face turned red because of the blood pooling.
Even funnier?
The snake in his pants, not a literal one, but you get my meaning, truly did have a mind of its own. So is that what did it for Max? Was he one of those guys who liked being tied up? Huh, it suddenly made sense. That’s why the producers trapped him, to get him so sexually frustrated he’d end up mauling one of the ladies, which would make for good TV.
The Consequence of Revenge Page 10
