Kill Switch (Devil's Night, #3)

by Penelope Douglas

“You watched me the whole time?” “Yes.” “Why?” I asked. Oh, my God. The initial creak in the floorboards I heard upstairs before, too. That was him. He was here the whole time. The idea of his eyes on me. Being in the room, lurking in a corner and watching me . . . toying with me. Why would he just hang out and watch? “Because it was pretty,” he finally said. Pretty? “You asked me why you?” he said, holding me to him, my back pressed into his chest. “That’s why. You’re pure.”

“Your parents are bad,” he explained. “Your sister lacks any depth to be interesting, and I hate my house. It’s so dark there.” He paused, then continued. “It all fucking disappeared when you were dancing, though. It made the world prettier. I liked it.” “So, what?” I argued. “You wanna lock me in your basement to dance for you on command? Is that it?” But instead of the creepy, monotone, and calm response I’d been getting, his chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Can I hide there with you?” he asked.

Was it just some elaborate prank? Why would he threaten and scare me the way he did and then . . . and then shield me when my parents started fighting? He protected me and put me to bed and somehow knew I wanted the Christmas village, which my sister wouldn’t get for me. I knew I should tell my parents about what happened, but . . . I don’t know. It could’ve been just a prank, right?

No. The boy didn’t hurt me. Not yet, anyway. In fact, he was kind of an angel at the end. An angel with really black bat wings. Psycho.

We were only a few feet from each other, but all of a sudden, it felt like miles. I’d nearly killed my friend. I’d destroyed Kai’s business. I’d threatened her, had her guarded, and kept her practically caged. I was sorry for some things, not for others.

In that moment, I wanted to grab him and her and Banks and put us all on an island, because they would never not belong to me.

My smile froze, remembering the beating I let him give me last year because I knew I deserved it. I’d knelt there, letting him hit me again and again, because I wanted to feel worse on the outside than I did on the inside, and for so many moments, I just wanted him to kill me. Just kill me, because I can’t take it back, and I can’t move on. I’d almost killed him. And I wanted him to hate me so hard he would fucking murder me, and then maybe, after his anger was spent, he’d love me again. Whether I lived or died, he needed to forgive me for standing by and letting Michael’s brother do what he did on that yacht that night.

“You want to see me with her?” he asked. “Is that it?” I laughed under my breath and cocked my head. “Not exactly.”

“Oh, I remember this,” I taunted in his ear, every inch of my chest pressed against his back and both us very aware of my groin on his ass. “This is what you really missed, isn’t it?” He jerked his head back, trying to head butt me. “Don’t fucking talk about that,” he growled. “I was drunk.” “All three times?” I teased, smiling. “Michael and Kai don’t know how close we got, do they?”

“But one thing I noticed for certain. That girl is ready to be used like a woman.” A heated look crossed his eyes. “And she may not have liked it with you, but she just might love it with me.”

“She was a lie.” She. She was next. After I was done with Winter, I’d do it for him.

She wouldn’t want him. And so help her God if she did.

I wanted to tell him that I never would’ve hurt him. That I didn’t know what Trevor was doing, and it wasn’t supposed to go down like that, because out of all three of my friends, Will was the one I would always save first. That my pride and anger wouldn’t let me retreat, and that if he had been pulled to the ocean’s bottom, out of my reach, I would’ve followed him. I would’ve fucking followed him and rotted down there, close to wherever he was, because nothing I would’ve acquired after that—my inheritance or my vengeance on Winter—would’ve been worthwhile without him.

“Lick her, Will,” I told him, giving him what that bitch never did. “She loves you in the dark. She lets Will Grayson the third, star of the basketball team, come over to her house, climb into her room at night, and come inside her whenever he wants.”

“Our army is bigger. You have no one.” “All I need is me. One person willing to do what none of you will.” I paused and added, “You don’t have the stomach for this, Will. Don’t doubt that I will do whatever I have to, to keep what’s mine. That little girl belongs to me.”

He asked her to dance like I’d asked Winter to dance for me. He watched my mother as I watched Winter. Was that it, then? Did I do to Winter in high school what my father did to my mother? Did I groom her?

It’s different. It’s unique and all mine. She and I . . . we’re alone in the universe. No one was us.

I didn’t like being fed. I needed to hunt.

I sifted through my black clothing, not finding the black leather pants with zippers down the legs. Where were they? I hadn’t worn them since last winter.

Damon?

“I know you do,” Damon replied. “But you have no clue what I want. Or what I like.”

“I think that’s part of the reason you had to leave school after that video,” she pointed out. “They hated you.” “Who?” “All the girls he wouldn’t sleep with,” she replied. “Rumor has it, Damon’s appetite is not always fun to satisfy.” All the girls he wouldn’t sleep with. So he didn’t sleep around? Sure.

She trailed off, and I didn’t know for sure if anything she said was true, but . . . a small part of me wanted to believe it was. Maybe it made me less his victim to know he was the fucked up one and not me for falling for his lie.

“Used,” she agreed. “They degraded themselves for him and got nothing in return. He coerced but never forced. He kept you to himself, though. I wonder why.”

Are you going to hurt me? I don’t know. Do you want to? Kind of. A silvery sting throbbed between my legs, and I clenched my thighs to get control of myself. Fuck.

God, I didn’t care. I liked the illusion. I liked that feeling again, and I didn’t fucking care—here and in the dark where this dude would never see me again, because I would never come back here—that I needed this. He did this to me. I hated it and hated him, but I wanted to see. Needed to see. See if I liked it or to prove to myself that he, and what he did to me, didn’t mean anything and that I didn’t want it.

my orgasm crested, starting to roll through me. “Holy shit,” he said, breaking character. “God, this is fucking awesome.” And I lost it. The orgasm drifted away, hanging on by a tether until it snapped and disappeared. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I cracked. Jesus Christ.

I didn’t hate that I enjoyed it. I hated that it reminded me of him and that was why I enjoyed it. I still wanted to come. He’d changed my palate. I didn’t want to understand Damon, but sometimes, I couldn’t help thinking of all the times he watched me but never touched me—confusing me and intriguing me. And how he hadn’t really changed so much.

Thirteen years ago he was hiding from his mother in a fountain, and after what happened in his room tonight and what Isa had told me, he was still hiding. Trying to feel everything through everyone else as he stood back and watched. But bottom lines never changed. He still took what I never would’ve given him. They all thought he was different with me, not realizing that I was just a different kind of kink to him. Something to get him off. He fucked with my head just like he did everyone’s, and to coerce is still a way to force. He was as guilty as sin.

No one knew the real tragedy, though. It wasn’t a matter of why he was different with me, but rather, now . . ....

“My heart . . .” he said. “Shit.” I remembered what he said last week at my house. Do you know what I have to do to get it to beat like that? “I scared you.” “Not an emotion I’m used to being on the receiving end of,” he mused.

“What color is your car?” I asked, pulling my hands down from his neck and mine. “Black.” Of course. “When I remember the colors in my head,” I remarked, “I get a feeling sometimes. Pink is how I feel now. My stomach doing somersaults and laughing. Giddy. Squirrelly . . .” I slid off him and into the passenger seat. “I don’t know what I feel when I picture black, though. Nothing, really, I guess.” “That sounds like a challenge.”

He would be the picture he was in my head. A faceless boy with dark hair and fire in his eyes, just how I wanted it. Forever.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking my hand. “Where?” I climbed out, following him. “To see black.” See black? I loved his imagination.

He sped around a bend, we leaned, and I could almost feel the ground an inch under my leg. I couldn’t stop myself. “I’m gonna fall!” I cried out. “Stop, please!” And he did. He slowed and halted, and as if by magic, everything was quiet again. I didn’t let him go. “This is black,” he said. “Fear, falling, release. Excitement, risk, danger.”

I wanted to go all night now, because for the first time in forever, I was seeing things again. And just because I’d lost my sight didn’t mean that I needed to fear getting lost. Just maybe, it was exactly what I’d been dying for.

He slowed to a stop and put his feet down on the ground. “Fear, falling, release,” he said again. “Excitement, risk, danger.” “And at any moment, death,” I mused, still with my smile toward the sky. “Freedom,” he added.

But Winter remained silent. I could feel her, though. She was all I felt. I wanted her to hate this. To feel hurt that her eyes would never be on anyone, and she would never be as enjoyable or as sexy as Alex or Arion, because they could taunt with a single look. She was pathetic, and less, and without. Like I could’ve ever enjoyed you like a real woman. Is that what you thought, Winter?

I took another drink, kind of wanting to kill myself for a second, too. The shit that came out of my mouth. All for Winter’s sake, because she was my sole motivation in everything I did, and I was kind of fucking ashamed she had that power.

She dove down and plucked the flash drive off the floor, then stood up, raising her hand to give it back to me. But she froze, meeting my eyes. Her face fell, and she didn’t move except to breathe. Christiane Fane. Rika’s mother.

why she froze? he look like her husband or something like girl🤣

“Are you sure you hate me?” I asked in a low voice. And I slipped a hand between her legs, swiping my fingers over the fabric of her leotard and feeling what I knew would be there. She was seeping through. She was wet. I brought my fingers up. “If he didn’t touch you, then is this for me?” She slammed me in the chest, and I stumbled back, letting her out. “You’re a monster. You’re no better than him,” she growled. “You played with me. You took advantage of me not being able to see, just like he did, and got exactly what you wanted. You abused me.”

The only motive I had was to be around her, and if I had to lie to get it . . . I wasn’t taking responsibility for everything. She liked it. “I think I love you,” I said, repeating her words to me all those years ago. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I want you to be my first. It’s okay. Touch me.” I stepped up to her, invading her space and throwing all of her shame back at her. “You’ll be the first to kiss me here.” I flicked her ear. “And here.” I touched her neck. “And here.” I brushed her nipple with my thumb. “I want to feel your body on mine. Am I okay? Am I doing it right? It feels good. Don’t stop. Oh, God. Oh, God. Don’t walk away. Please, I want this. You don’t have to protect me. You want it, too. I’m okay. I want it. I want to feel you so bad.”

“Arion thinks I’m a man,” I told her, keeping my voice low and taunting. “She’ll touch me like I’m a man. She’ll ride me in my bed and swallow me because she wants what she thinks was yours.”

you’re pissed and angry because you think you hate me, but you slip a hand under the covers anyway, because no one will be the wiser if you indulge yourself in the memory of me, I just want you to also know”—I lowered my voice to a whisper—“that’s what red feels like. Anger and fury and heat and need so strong you’re a fucking animal, Winter. It’s primal.”

The only bright side I could find in possibly never feeling him again was that your first love was a learning experience. Or so my mom said. They’re not the ones you marry, she told me. They’re the ones who break you, so you can rebuild yourself better. Stronger. But I didn’t care. I wanted him to come back. I wanted him to hurt me. Just as long as he came back. “What are they like?” I asked, breaking the silence and trying to change the subject. “The Horsemen? Besides Damon, I mean?” I already had an idea of the tool he’d turned into. I couldn’t believe I’d suspected him to be my ghost. My guy was out of this world. And he didn’t smoke, thank goodness.

“Will’s nice, too,” Rika chimed in, “but he’s not as sincere as Kai is, I think. He’s good-looking and even better for a laugh. He treats girls better than Damon or Michael do, but . . . I don’t know.” She trailed off, pensive. “He’s never serious. I don’t think he’s ever had a serious girlfriend like Kai has, has he?” “Maybe his heart already belongs to someone he can’t have,” Claudia said. “Aw.”

“My sister is ready for you. Always ready for you. Why don’t you bring her in here?” He picked me up again, this time wrapping his arms around me like a steel band, my arms pinned to my body under his tight hold. “Why bother with her when there’s you?” he taunted. “I like you.”

“Grow up, learn things, and have fun in high school, but don’t change the little girl who loves it ‘in the black,’ because I like you there, too. And I will be back for what’s mine when you’re old enough for bigger things.” I turned my face away, breathing harder. “And be good,” he told me. “If I hear anyone touched you, I will crack his fucking skull.”

I hated him. I hated his vile words and his cigarettes and his arrogance and insanity in thinking he wasn’t responsible for anything. I hated how he grabbed and threatened and wouldn’t let me go. He had no right. And I hated that I’d missed him. I hated that so fucking much. How I still felt the parts about him I loved when I didn’t know it was him I was with. How his arms around me still felt protective and how his whispers reminded me of when I loved the feel of them all over my neck.

That feeling of wanting nothing else, and I would rather never eat again than not have him. I don’t want to . . . make you dirty.

The love was what felt good. Unfortunately, it had been one-sided in my experience. I could be tempted to take Will up on his offer to let off some steam, but it wouldn’t be more than that. I wanted him as a friend.