Kill Switch (Devil's Night, #3)

by Penelope Douglas

“And, Damon?” she called. I stopped. “When and if she comes around, take her somewhere, just the two of you.” What? “It’s called a date,” she explained, “and it’s where you do something she likes that makes her happy. You and she will keep your clothes on for this.” Oh, you’re funny. I shook my head, leaving her apartment and stepping into the elevator. I pushed the button for the lobby. “A fucking date,” I mumbled.

He turns away and lets out a breath as he stares ahead. “I might kiss you again when we’re older,” he says. “Just so you know.”

Everything got out of hand, and Damon got scared. We were just kids. He didn’t mean to push me over. I knew that now. But still . . . I just never seemed to come out of anything with him unscathed, did I? In body or in mind.

Tears pooled as I realized. He hadn’t taken away the fountain. He’d replaced it. My eyes stung. It was a fountain maze. I stood there in the center, towers of water shooting up and spilling around me as the tears started to fall. Hiding me in a world within a world. Just like his fountain when he was growing up. Just like the tree house. Damon, what did you do? My head fell back, and everything crumbled. My heart, my head, my hate, and my grudge, and I just wanted to see him. To feel him and put his forehead to mine and feel him breathe. To have him pick me up and hold me in here, where the water and the walls were high enough to hide us. I loved him. I still loved him. Goddamn him.

I wanted to fight and scream and laugh and smile and kiss and taste and wrap my arms around him more than I could stomach never feeling him again.

“Where is he?” I asked. Crane was silent a moment and then said, “Occupied at the moment. Would you like me to give him a message?” Occupied. Okay. If he wanted to play, let him come find me, then. I was ready.

“And you’ll be home by eleven?” he demanded more than asked. But I just cocked my head, unable to hide the small smile he had to know was pure mischief. “Of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. And then he stood up straight, still holding me tight. “Having Damon around was the only time I ever felt solid in my life,” he told me. “He’s powerful. But painful.” The corner of my mouth turned up in a small smile; I knew exactly what he was talking about. The highs with Damon reached the sun. But our kind of fun had a price.

And then someone was at my back, the height and broad shoulders covering every inch of me, the cloves drifted on the air, and I knew it was him.

His hand reached around my neck, cupping my face and turning my head, as I closed my eyes and felt him come down, pressing his forehead to mine. Damon. His other hand came around my stomach, touching me and pressing me into his body, his chest rising and falling behind me. He felt like five years ago. Like seven years ago. And I wanted it. “You’re supposed to be wearing your uniform,” I whispered, feeling the jeans and brushing the hoodie with my hand as I reached up to touch his face. “This is how you knew me then.” I appreciated that he wanted to be who I fell for in high school. But they were always the same person. “As long as you’re Damon Torrance, I don’t care what you wear,”

“Marco,” I called. After a moment, he answered behind me. “Polo.” I spun around, and he grabbed for me, slipping his hands up my short skirt, but I pushed them back down again, touching his face. “Close your eyes,” I told him, making sure his lids were closed. “Keep them closed and find me.” “And if I find you?” I grinned at his loaded tone and backed away, getting a head start. “You won’t,” I teased, immediately finding a diversion in the path and slipping off to the left.

“Now,” I breathed out. “I want you now, Damon.” He sucked in air between his teeth. “Say that again. With my name.” “I want you now, Damon.”

“Damon,” I whimpered, my chest caving again and again. “Say it again,” he growled. I gasped. “Damon.” “Who’s fucking you?” Oh, God, I was coming. “Damon Torrance,” I breathed out.

“Mine,” he said against my lips. “Don’t ever leave my body.” His hand on my neck scaled down, squeezing my breast and running over my stomach, and came back up to my neck, holding me tight. “Don’t ever leave my body,” he chanted again. “I won’t,” I whispered. “Say you love me.” I swallowed, my throat so dry. “Say you love me,” he demanded. “I love you,” I told him, surprised by how easily it came. “I love you, Damon.” And he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, and this was it. Right here. Everything I wanted to feel; it brought me even more happiness than dancing did. He was still the boy, promising to kiss me again someday, and I was still her, never wanting to leave whatever little private world we created when we were together.

I told him I loved him. But he hadn’t said it back. It was okay. I didn’t need to hear it yet. He seemed to need to hear it himself, though. Like in the tree house when we were kids. Desperate to keep me safe and by his side.

“How, with everything going on out there,” I went on, “I feel like I’m wrapped in a blanket in here—warm, dry, and safe. And all the world living and breathing and raging outside makes where I am seem like a world within a world. Like a fountain in a maze.” I paused, musing, “Like a home.” Everything with him was like home. “I hear so much more than when I could see,” I said, my voice turning to a whisper. “I don’t think I’d ever want to not hear all that now.”

“And you let her leave?” He closed his mouth, averting his eyes. Why the fuck did I hire extra security if he was just going to let her come and go like that? “It wasn’t my impression she was a prisoner, sir,” he said. “Was it your impression that I might eat ice cream out of your skull for not telling me she was going?”

Miles Anderson. The guy who had Winter in his car when she was sixteen. The guy who also attacked Rika the same Devil’s Night I did. Fuck.

I hit the floor, coughing, and I looked around for my father, but he must’ve been in another car. As the SUV took off, I just prayed Michael and Rika would come through. Keep her safe. Don’t leave her alone.

I tried to open the windows, but they were bolted shut. Fucking asshole. What was I? Ten?

As long as I got in line, brought Arion back home, played the husband, and went to work for him. I shook my head. Fuck him. I was going to burn this place to the ground with him in it. If he was lucky.

The room was dark, but moonlight shone through, and I looked up, seeing not only Rika, but Alex standing there, too, all three women staring down at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I whined, holding my side and trying to get my feet under me. “That’s how you thank three females who just saved your ass?” Rika remarked, sounding all too amused. And then Alex tipped her chin at me, taunting, “Who’s your daddy?” Winter snorted, and I just fixed a snarl on my face as I stood up. “Just get me out of here,” I told them. “And don’t tell anybody about this, for Christ’s sake.”

“You left me,” I said, her chin tucked on my shoulder as she held me from behind. “Everyone is always doing that.” “I needed to think.” “Think,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Fuck you, baby. It was perfect last night. There were no problems.” I reached behind, ruffling her hair. “You’re going to do it again,” I said, dropping my hand. “You should’ve just left me there. Why didn’t you?” She was quiet, nudging her cheek into mine as she found her words. “Because I was afraid of life without the hope of you to look forward to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Winter cried in my ear. “It’s fine.” I relaxed into her, her arms still around me. “I could die happily right here.” “You’re not dying,” Winter argued. “You haven’t even told me you love me yet.” Oh, that. “Someday,” I teased.

I needed to think, she’d said. My dick was inside you four times last night. Now you needed to think? Really?

“Banks?” Will spoke up. “You’re O negative, right? We all did that blood drive last summer. He can get blood from you.” Oh, good. I started to breathe a little easier, but she didn’t say anything for a moment, and I started worrying again. “Um . . . yeah,” she finally stammered, “but I, uh . . . I can’t donate blood, I don’t think.” “Why?” Will prodded. She laughed nervously under her breath. “I’m, um . . . I’m pregnant.” Everyone fell silent, but I couldn’t help but smile a little at the irony. Uncle Damon. That would be fun. “I was trying to find a way to tell you,” she said, to her husband, I assumed. “Something special. Sorry it happened like this.” “Yeah, sorry,” Will added, clearing his throat and realizing the sudden announcement was sort of his fault.

“Aw, you care?” “With you bedridden, you can’t cause trouble,” he pointed out. “It’s nice.” Whatever. I wasn’t fucking staying. I’d rather pierce my eyeballs than lie here, resting. I’d rather chug a gallon of piss-warm milk than stay in bed doing nothing. I’d rather get a third-degree burn on my dick. Or develop a peanut allergy.

“What did you bring?” He popped the lid, but David answered, “She had some vatrushka already made. There’s zephyr in there, too.” “Fuck yeah.”

If that hadn’t worked, I would’ve killed Rika. But it did, so . . . Fine, whatever.

I turned from Winter, gripping his face in my hands. “Just breathe,” I told him. “Trust me. We’re getting out of here.” He met my eyes, starting to break down as his chin trembled. “Please, don’t . . .” he begged. “Please don’t leave me.” I clenched my jaw, shame washing through me all over again at what I let Trevor do to him. How I left him. How I would never have lived with it if anything had happened to him that night. I held the back of his neck and planted my forehead to his. “I never did,” I promised.

“Fuck, we did it,” I breathed out. Winter grabbed my leg, pulling herself up. “We can’t stay here,” she said, her voice shaking. “We need to . . . get somewhere warm.” I rolled over, groaning at all the aches and pains, and I needed ten thousand things right now, but I was so fucking happy they were here and we’d made it. Raising my head and looking up, I saw a single light through the trees and knew . . . Just fucking knew. St. Killian’s.

“He’s shaking,” I told her. “Come here.” She came down on the floor, following my voice and crawling, and I took her arm, pulling her on top of him, both of us sandwiching him. “Get him fucking warmed up,” I told both of us. “You’re okay,” she said, straddling him and hugging his chest. “I almost drowned,” he choked out, his breath ragged. “Again.” “Shhh,” I soothed him, holding him, because that was all I could do. There was nothing that would erase what I did; I could only to hate myself more because I’d done it at all.

Damon remained silent, and I ran my hands up his chest, feeling his body move as it went on instinct and took what it needed. I wanted this forever. Him forever. I wanted to hold this place where we could hide in our dark places and feel everything we didn’t always understand. Fantastical fear and falling. Danger, fury, heat, and need. So strong you’re a fucking animal. Black and red. And underneath the earth, behind a closed door, in this room, we let it happen. We just gave in.

His mother and what she did to him. He didn’t like that, and the reason had to do with her. “Why did you let me?” I asked, keeping my tone soft. “I didn’t even think about it until it was over,” he whispered. “It was like she wasn’t here. It was just you.” He sucked in a breath and tightened his arms around me. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” he whispered over my lips again. I held his face in my hands. God, I love you. And as I sucked in a breath, feeling him push inside me again, I knew what he was talking about all those days ago. The anger and fury and heat and need—years of it leading to this moment when we finally knew what we were and who we lived for. Red. Out of all the colors, I liked red the best.

Alex strolled in, carrying something and plopping it down on the island in front of me. It was a black suit with a white shirt and black necktie. Kind of like Rika’s. There were gloves and shoes, too. I looked to Alex. “It’s a party, after all,” she said. And then she put my mask on top. I laughed a little. The irony wasn’t lost on me. We weren’t boys in hoodies anymore, I guess. It was time to reintroduce ourselves to Thunder Bay.

I looked over at Michael, Rika already situated behind him and pulling on her mask. “Your father will be there, too,” I warned him. He laughed to himself, turning on the bike and revving the engine. “First things first,” he called out. We all pulled down our masks, gripped the handles, and took off. Damn straight.

It was all very . . . cute. Not bad if you wanted to hang out with some friends for a beer, but this wasn’t the real Devil’s Night. These people wore their black as a costume. For us, the costume was coming off.

Ready and . . . I tapped Winter’s right leg twice. She pulled the ring from a smoke grenade and rolled it out of her right hand just like a bowling ball. It tumbled across the street, green smoke pouring out of it as it hit the curb. People shouted excitedly as towers of smoke billowed into the air, creating a fog. If there were any kids around, at least it was nontoxic. “I did it?” she asked in my ear. “Perfect.” I wished she could see it.

“Having fun?” I asked her, helping her off. She tossed the can and moved the pack to her back again. “I don’t know.” She laughed. “How much does this fun cost?” “Sticking with me for the rest of your life,” I replied, putting my arm around her waist. “That’ll suck.”

At a certain point, I started wondering—did I behave the way I did because I could? Or did I behave the way I did because it was the only thing keeping me alive in that house? Because eleven-year-olds shouldn’t be thinking about how to end their lives.

I knew without a doubt—with my friends back and Winter with me—that nothing he could threaten me with would change my course of action. I didn’t need him, his money, or his protection. I just wanted him gone. Away from this town and away from us.

They whipped around, the guard reaching for his weapon, but all of a sudden, something flew past us through the air and slammed right into his forehead, making his neck snap back, his knees give out, and his body crumple to the floor of the roof. What the hell? A dagger clanked to the ground next to him; the butt of it must’ve knocked him out. I looked over at Rika. She stood in a lunging position with her arm outstretched. Then she stood up, straightening and breathing hard. Yeah, okay.

“It’s kind of ironic, actually,” he went on. “That I put all of my faith and energy into you for so long, believing a daughter could never be what a son could be, and as of right now, it looks like your sisters will be the ones with the real power in Thunder Bay. Not you.” Sisters? I looked at him, confused, as a slow, vile grin spread across his fucking face. What the hell was he talking about? I only had one sister.

“Her heart was broken long before Rika was born or her husband died,” my father droned on. She wanted me even with what my father did to her? Her husband wanted me anyway?

I pulled it out once again, stared into his eyes, and rammed it into his fucking body, burying it in his stomach one . . . final . . . time. “Just . . . die,” I bit out right in his face. “Die.”

I stared down at him, holding his eyes. Someone approached from behind, but I waved my hand from where it hung at my side, gesturing for them to back the hell off. The weight in my gut started to dissipate, and I wasn’t running. I wanted to see this. I wanted to make sure he died.

People might’ve been happy to see my father go, but they weren’t shoving this under the rug out of the goodness of their hearts. There were many who still didn’t like me, either. They were rid of my father, so why not let me go to prison for it and be rid of me, too? “Who’s your employer?” I asked, suspicious. “Who’s paying you? Who’d pay the city off to look the other way about this?” He just stared at me, unblinking, and then answered, sounding almost serene. “Someone who wants you to have a chance, Mr. Torrance.” And I sat back in my chair, my eyes finally open and knowing the answer without Cason telling me. Christiane Fane.

“So this is where you’ve been going?” she said, still facing out. “Not a hundred yards away from me.” I came up behind her. “Never.” All the nights I was away, I was still here.

“What do you see?” I asked. She inhaled a deep breath and then fell slowly back, lying down on the floor with her legs still hanging over the side. A little smile played across her lips. “I see us spending the night up here.” I came down on her, taking her face in my hands and heading for her mouth. Hell yeah.