Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“Don’t you know that you can have anything you want?” His eyes searched mine. “I’ll hurt anyone for you.”

“Who is it?” he asked. “Who do I have to hurt?”

“In Humbert’s head, he demands sympathy from us, and most readers give it, because he tells them to. Because we’re willing to forgive anyone anything if they’re attractive to us.”

“Abuse can feel like love…” he repeated. “Why?” Damon remained so still it didn’t look like he was breathing. He looked at the teacher, unwavering. “Starving people will eat anything.”

Walking out of the room, I couldn’t help but glance back at Will Grayson, seeing him slouched in his seat, chin on his hand, and covering a smile with his fingers. He held my eyes until I left the room.

“Your name?” he asked, pushing the glass and pan toward me. I clamped my mouth shut. But Will spoke up for me. “Her name is Emory Scott,” he answered. I shot Will a glare. A smirk danced across his eyes.

“You’re allowed to relax once in a while.” Her voice was calm but firm. “The rest of us aren’t less because we like to have fun, you know?”

Then…he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with me. A smile spread across his face, like he knew I’d been watching him the whole damn time, and my face fell, heat rising to my cheeks.

“Real monsters don’t wear masks, William Grayson III,” I retorted. “They look like everyone else.”

“They won’t let you walk home in this weather,” he said. “They can’t stop me.” “I won’t let you walk home in this,” he clarified. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”

Stern brown eyebrows, a sharp nose, but soft lips and the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen behind those sweet, sleeping eyelids and long lashes.

You could never get much over on her.

So tough. So cocky. I liked stubborn. I liked women who took control.

“What was her name again?” he asked softly. “Emory?” My arms burned until I realized every muscle in my body was tensed. I forced the lump down my throat.

She was killing me. Had been killing me for years.

Kai was ready for tomorrow. Damon never wanted to leave today.

“I think Em is smarter than that,” I said. She wouldn’t complain about last night and the lock-in. Tattling would dent her pride. Not sure how I knew that about her, but I did.

At least I was good for a few laughs.

he’s so me

“I know how you see me,” I said. “Ignorant, arrogant, frivolous… I want to be good. Honestly. Goal-oriented, a hard worker, honest, righteous…” I paused. “Like Emory. Your sister, right?”

“Some of us have better longevity,” I joked over my shoulder. “We know you do.” Michael patted my shoulder. Hell yes, I do.

My interest in Emory Scott had nothing to do with her brother, sadly. I wish it were that easy.

I had no clue what I wanted or who I wanted to be. I just wanted my people, and I wanted the girl of my dreams.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

I didn’t want that tonight. I didn’t want to play here. I’d rather relive last night, even though all that girl and I did was fight.

God, she had a mouth on her. I loved her attitude and her anger, because I was always too warm and I needed the ice.

I was nothing, and she knew it, and in ten years, she’d be amazing, and I’d be nothing. She would never need me.

“I went easy with those hits,” he gritted out. “And believe me when I tell you I know how to take one,” I replied.

I was stubborn to the point of being self-destructive. I was asking for it.

He stared at me, and I was just about to turn away and leave, but then he yelled, “Guys!” His eyes stayed on me. “Do me a favor? Get out and go home.” “Huh?” someone said. “What?” came another voice. “I mean it,” he told them. “Go home. Now.”

I’d let him mess with my head and take me away, because every day more and more of me needed my head messed with. I needed away.

“In twenty years, you’ll all be your fathers—powerful, wealthy, and with a string of mistresses your wives will be drugging themselves in order to forget that you have.” I stood up, looking down on him. “But even as Masters of the Universe, Will Grayson III will never forget that I was one notch on his belt that he could never get. I’m not going to let you win this one. At least, I’ll have that.”

He pulled me in, and I opened my mouth to protest, but instead of a kiss, he just pulled me into his arms, pressed my head to his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around me so tight, it felt like he was the one about to break, not me.

And he pulled up, staring down at me almost nose to nose. “And I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow night, Emory Scott.”

There was a moment, though, when he held me, where he was me, and I was him, and we weren’t alone. It felt like I was supposed to be there.

See you on the bus tomorrow night, Will Grayson.

I stared at the ceiling, still feeling him next to me in bed, but I knew he wasn’t there. He was closer than ever now, but I felt his absence more than I ever did. Tears ached behind my eyes, remembering how he felt and how much I really wanted to feel that again right now.

I was pretty sure these two might just be happy staying here for the rest of their lives if they had each other.

A hand slipped under mine, warm and smooth, and I snapped my head left, seeing Will in the seat next to me.

My phone beeped, and it took a moment to look at it. “I want to hold you like that,” it said.

Part of me wanted it. Part of me loved how good his attention felt, because he was cocky and confident and good-looking and smooth. He was popular, looked great in everything he wore, and I liked his smile.

He was untouchable, and he wanted to touch me.

“I think that’s why I’ve always liked this time of day best. People hide in the dark. They quench their thirsts in the dark. They build their secrets in the dark. We’re more ourselves here than anywhere else. I get to be me...” he swallowed, staring at me, “when nightfall is coming.”

“I wanted you here with me, because…” He searched for words, his hand shooting to his hair and gripping it. “Because we want what we want, Em! Jesus!”

“I’m not going to be the one all over you in the school hallways tomorrow in front of everyone. I’m something dirty you hide!” “Speak for yourself,” he growled. “I think you’re the one ashamed of me. That you want me. That you want this.”

“I would never stop touching you,” he said, his voice almost tired. “And I would touch only you.” He turned and looked at me, and he was so beautiful I wanted to believe him.

“I really don’t like you,” I said nice and loud so we were clear. He smiled and pushed himself up, coming up to the truck and climbing up on the step, peering down at me. “I like that you don’t like me,” he taunted.

“So, I’m a challenge then?” I asked. “That’s what all this is really about?” “No.” He shook his head. “You just make me want to be…” “Better?” I rolled my eyes at the cliché statement. But he paused a moment. “More,” he finally said. “No one ever expects more from me.”

“Can I pick you up for school Monday morning?” he asked, turning onto my street. I unfastened my seatbelt. “No.” “I just asked to be nice,” he said in a stern tone. “I’m picking you up. I don’t like you walking.”

It was like Will. He loved to love. He loved to be happy. He’d wanted to make me happy once.

“Why did you do it?” he asked. “Ashamed of what you liked me to do? There was still so much more to come, but you cut us short. We didn’t even do half of everything I had planned for you.”

A calm breeze swept through the trees, clouds rolled in, the air charged, and I looked around for any sign of Emmy Scott. Without looking like I was looking for her. It wasn’t that I didn’t want my friends to know that I was into her, because they already knew I was, but if she got the slightest attention for it, she’d get scared off, and she was already constantly bolting away from me.