Conclave (Devil's Night, #3.5)

by Penelope Douglas

“It wasn’t like that,” Kai argues. “Then what was it like?” This came from Banks, and I turn my eyes on her, her doubt stinging.

“Fuck your power, your schedule, your assistant,” he tells me, “your fucking little entourage everywhere you go, your plans, and your chess games. I gave you too much power.”

Michael forgets his attack and looks at me. “I’m retiring after next season,” he tells me. “Will you talk to me, then?”

“It’s time to concentrate on other things. The Cove, our family…”

“Will won’t stop it from happening,” Michael replies, planting his hands and leaning on the table. “It’s time to level the property and begin.”

I inch forward. This is my fault, not theirs.

Finally, he looks up at me, his voice softer. “I feel less than you,” he says. “Like…” “Like you have nothing to teach me anymore,” I finish for him.

He doesn’t respond, so I know I’m right. He’s intimidated that I have more ...

“Because…” I say. “Because I need to be more. I need to be…useful.”

I want to laugh, not out of amusement but anger. I’m not a trophy. I’m not something to play with or program.

“Why?” He inches closer.

Wtf is wrog with him

“Because I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” I whisper. “Because you’ll be disappointed.”

“Because I can’t…I…” I stutter, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I can’t have children.” I close my eyes, silently starting to cry as the words leave my mouth. “I can’t give us a family.”

It’s easy to say I’m valuable. He loves me for me, and if my body can’t do this, it can’t be all he needs from me. I’m worth plenty, even if I can’t give him our children, right? This isn’t my fault. I haven’t failed.

He turns and walks away.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM

“We’re killing him,” Damon growls, and he’s probably talking to Kai. “Right now.”

Silence.

But then he looks away, and something unnerves me. Like he didn’t want to tell me that.

Did Michael ask for Ms. Chen to be dismissed from the bridge early? Is that why Barris looked at me so weird?

A woman with long, dark hair sits on top of a table, its legs nailed to the floor and her naked body in full view of whoever takes her picture. Her face is covered behind her hair, but I know who it is. It’s too long to be Banks and too dark to be Alex. Samara Chen.

“I knew you were in my truck that day,” he says in a low voice.

“You weren’t old enough for everything,” he continues, “but you were old enough for some things, and I couldn’t wait anymore. It was always there. Since we were kids.”

“Sometimes, I thought I wanted to touch you,” Michael whispers, and I feel it on the top of my hair. “Other times, I thought I wanted to kill you. I didn’t know if it was love or hate, but I knew it would change my life.”

“I loved your world,” I whisper.

“I wish I could go back to that night,” I tell Michael. “I would’ve tried not to get in that truck. I would’ve tried not to steal all this time from you.”

“And if I could go back, I wouldn’t have wasted a moment.”

“I would’ve left that warehouse that night, but I would’ve taken you with me instead.”

I love how we love each other now, but if he had taken me with him that night—if I hadn’t decided to walk home—so much might not have happened to keep us apart all that time.

“l would’ve sat you down on the counter in my parents’ dark kitchen that night, standing between your legs as I ate you up, because at any moment we could’ve been caught, and I wanted to get us into trouble. I wanted them to try to keep me from you the way they always did, only this time I wouldn’t have listened.”

“I would’ve kissed you,” Michael goes on, dragging his fingers along my jaw. “And touched your face and started sweating, because I was so hard, wanting something so sweet that I couldn’t have yet.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to stop,” he continues, “but I would’ve put you to bed, because the next time I came home from college you would’ve been seventeen.”

“Michael…” I moan, picturing what could’ve been. The boys would never have gone to prison, and I would’ve been high, living for when Michael came home, because nothing feels as good as him wanting me.

“And when you turned eighteen,” he tells me, the whispers seeping through my body and making my clit throb so hard, “I would’ve bided my time during the dinner and the fucking cake and the presents, and you wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it, because you would’ve felt my eyes on you during the whole damn thing and known what was coming. They wouldn’t have been able to find you. They would’ve been frantic, because I would’ve had you far away, down on the beach, in a tent, and I wouldn’t have stopped…all night.”

“And you wouldn’t have turned up until I dropped you off for school the next morning,” he goes on. “In front of everyone so they knew who the fuck had you now.”

“Then why would you ever think the idea of children with any other woman wouldn’t make me sick?” he whispers, and I can hear the pain in his voice. “We will have kids. If you want them. But I will never not have you.” He shakes me. “Do you understand?” A sob lodges in my throat. “Do you understand?” he growls again. “A world where there is no us can’t happen.”

“I can’t follow the rules,” he says, “and with you, I don’t have to. I’m not alone. I can’t go back to being alone.” He hovers over my lips, our mouths open and hungry. “I can’t fucking breathe without my little monster.”

I can’t believe we just did that. But then, I can. We don’t have to hide around these people.

“Devil’s Night. We have until then to find Will and get him back.”

“I love you.” I pause and then add, because I can’t help myself, “Mr. Fane.”

Rika Crist just doesn’t sound right. He’s going to lose this one.

One month. I’m ready. I’m ready for it all.

THE END

Please continue reading if you’d like to go back and revisit Iversen’s birth!

*This scene takes place about ten months after the end of Kill Switch. About a year before Conclave.

Damon

I heard Kai sigh, because he was as much at his wits’ end as I was.

“Compromise?” Bryce whined. “He threw an ax at my head!”

Why was he even fucking here? If I couldn’t have Will handling shit out there, then I wanted one of the girls. Michael and Kai stressed me out more.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should start smoking again.”

If Will was here, he could do it. He’d be happy to do it.