peachy keen," he snapped at her, then curved his lips into an evil smile. "You're going to be sorry you crossed me, Ms. Darby."
"Am I?" Thinking of her waiting fourteen-year-olds, Kate started toward the door and the front quad.
"You'll see." He didn't try to block her way this time, just let his voice follow her. "You are going to regret you didn't treat me like a king."
Kate couldn't help smiling as she went out the door. His threat was the classic taunt of a bully who knew he'd been outmaneuvered.
He wasn't going to try going down the hill.
~~~
The sun was hot and high in the sky, but Griffith had yet to find a way out of Camp Wild Hills. With his stomach rumbling — it had been a day and a half since he'd last eaten — he limped toward the dining hall, hoping his guess was right and it was lunchtime.
After Kate's refusal to let him use her damn satellite phone, Griffith had stomped off in the direction she'd pointed, toward the head of the trail that led down the hill.
She thought she could stop him? She thought she was in charge here? Ha.
Proving the opposite, he'd actually managed to find the trail. Flushed with that victory, Griffith had stood at the edge of the dirt-packed firebreak and looked into the wall of chaparral through which the steep trail turned and twisted.
Go on. Hike . But Griffith only stood there, his flush of triumph fading. He'd spent a lot of time studying maps of the area. This trail was not one simple, solitary track, but crisscrossed by fire roads, some of which had to be crossed, some of which had to be used. Even with a decent sense of direction, an unfamiliar hiker could easily get lost.
Swallowing, Griffith stood there and started to feel dizzy just thinking about it. A disorienting vertigo crept up his throat as he imagined how the unfamiliar landmarks would blur and start spinning.
Nauseous now, he whirled to face the other direction. To his infinite relief, he could see the roof tile of the main camp building. He'd be able to find his way back.
Because, much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't going down that trail.
At least, not alone.
Griffith gritted his teeth. He was getting out of there, however. He was getting back to L.A., where he could strangle Simon Grolier, secure his loan for the Wildwood Project, and see about taking away Kate's water .
On his way back to camp, a flicker of something sour seeped through Griffith. Guilt? No. Couldn't be. Although maybe he did have to admit his own hypocrisy. Here he was furious with Kate for making his return home difficult, when what he intended to do once he got there was thoroughly shaft her.
Griffith snorted. So, what? She didn't know what he planned to do. There was no excuse for her behavior. None at all.
As the morning wore on, Griffith developed even less sympathy for Kate's plight as one tack after another failed to win him his goal.
He cornered each of the teenage counselors. To a man, they refused to show him the way down the hill.
"Hey, bud, I can't leave my kids," the one named José told Griffith, laughing.
"The kids can come with us," Griffith argued, desperate. Both Bill and Tony had already refused him.
José shook his head. "Taking a ten-mile hike up and down the hill is not on the schedule for today."
"Then leave the kids here." It was all Griffith could do not to scream. Didn't any of these people get it? "I'll pay you, of course. Enough to make up for it if you lose your job — more than you could make this entire summer."
José's expression went very strange, almost...pitying. "No, thanks," he said.
It was obvious Kate had brainwashed the poor fools.
Next Griffith tried getting a ride from the cook. A round, Mexican woman, she was just maneuvering herself into her Ford Escort when Griffith happened to come around the back of the building.
His one open eye lit up. A ride!
"Senora, senora!" he called, waving his arms.
Her round face turned, and at sight of him, her expression went alarmed. "No,
"Am I?" Thinking of her waiting fourteen-year-olds, Kate started toward the door and the front quad.
"You'll see." He didn't try to block her way this time, just let his voice follow her. "You are going to regret you didn't treat me like a king."
Kate couldn't help smiling as she went out the door. His threat was the classic taunt of a bully who knew he'd been outmaneuvered.
He wasn't going to try going down the hill.
~~~
The sun was hot and high in the sky, but Griffith had yet to find a way out of Camp Wild Hills. With his stomach rumbling — it had been a day and a half since he'd last eaten — he limped toward the dining hall, hoping his guess was right and it was lunchtime.
After Kate's refusal to let him use her damn satellite phone, Griffith had stomped off in the direction she'd pointed, toward the head of the trail that led down the hill.
She thought she could stop him? She thought she was in charge here? Ha.
Proving the opposite, he'd actually managed to find the trail. Flushed with that victory, Griffith had stood at the edge of the dirt-packed firebreak and looked into the wall of chaparral through which the steep trail turned and twisted.
Go on. Hike . But Griffith only stood there, his flush of triumph fading. He'd spent a lot of time studying maps of the area. This trail was not one simple, solitary track, but crisscrossed by fire roads, some of which had to be crossed, some of which had to be used. Even with a decent sense of direction, an unfamiliar hiker could easily get lost.
Swallowing, Griffith stood there and started to feel dizzy just thinking about it. A disorienting vertigo crept up his throat as he imagined how the unfamiliar landmarks would blur and start spinning.
Nauseous now, he whirled to face the other direction. To his infinite relief, he could see the roof tile of the main camp building. He'd be able to find his way back.
Because, much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't going down that trail.
At least, not alone.
Griffith gritted his teeth. He was getting out of there, however. He was getting back to L.A., where he could strangle Simon Grolier, secure his loan for the Wildwood Project, and see about taking away Kate's water .
On his way back to camp, a flicker of something sour seeped through Griffith. Guilt? No. Couldn't be. Although maybe he did have to admit his own hypocrisy. Here he was furious with Kate for making his return home difficult, when what he intended to do once he got there was thoroughly shaft her.
Griffith snorted. So, what? She didn't know what he planned to do. There was no excuse for her behavior. None at all.
As the morning wore on, Griffith developed even less sympathy for Kate's plight as one tack after another failed to win him his goal.
He cornered each of the teenage counselors. To a man, they refused to show him the way down the hill.
"Hey, bud, I can't leave my kids," the one named José told Griffith, laughing.
"The kids can come with us," Griffith argued, desperate. Both Bill and Tony had already refused him.
José shook his head. "Taking a ten-mile hike up and down the hill is not on the schedule for today."
"Then leave the kids here." It was all Griffith could do not to scream. Didn't any of these people get it? "I'll pay you, of course. Enough to make up for it if you lose your job — more than you could make this entire summer."
José's expression went very strange, almost...pitying. "No, thanks," he said.
It was obvious Kate had brainwashed the poor fools.
Next Griffith tried getting a ride from the cook. A round, Mexican woman, she was just maneuvering herself into her Ford Escort when Griffith happened to come around the back of the building.
His one open eye lit up. A ride!
"Senora, senora!" he called, waving his arms.
Her round face turned, and at sight of him, her expression went alarmed. "No,
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