Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

all I could think about was all the time we’d lost in high school. Of how this was it, and I should’ve known it. I should’ve snuck out with him and done this with him every single chance we got, because there was nothing that I was protecting myself from that wasn’t already happening at home. I shouldn’t have let the fear stop me.

I hugged her close as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m your man now. He’ll have to get through me.” She just let out a single chuckle into the crook of my neck, but didn’t say more. I wasn’t trying to be funny.

In this moment, I was grateful she spared me any time, considering the bigger things she had on her plate. I was too hard on her.

I walked over, unable to keep the smile off my lips. “Nothing is ending.” I pulled at her comforter and then the blankets, working them out from underneath her to cover her up. “It wasn’t just fun to me, Emmy. Don’t you know that?”

We weren’t done. I needed more.

“You’re going to remember this, Will Grayson,” she said, sounding all tough. “I blew your mind tonight. Even for just a minute.” She turned over, giving me her back, and I smiled, smoothing the hair off her face and neck. You’ve been blowing my mind for forever.

She was incredible, and I hated that no one saw how beautiful she was except me.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“That was Will,” I told him. “The joker. He never had a worry in the world. Happy, because he didn’t want to be unhappy. He was charmed.”

“Everything is a game to you,” I said, about to slide into my seat. But he took me and pulled me down into his lap as he sat next to my desk. “Not everything.” I pushed against him, seeing Michael stare at us as he took his seat in front of Will, turning just in time to hide his shitty-ass grin.

I wrenched my eyes away, seeing Townsend walk in. “It’s time for class.” I pushed out of his lap, but he pulled me back. “I need to talk to you,” he gritted out, “and it’s not waiting.”

They trailed in a line across the front of the classroom, toward the door, every single one turning their heads and eyeing me. A smile curled Damon’s lips as he lifted his finger and wagged it at me. Kai saw him, breaking out in a laugh as they disappeared through the door, and I didn’t think I blinked for a solid minute.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Trevor asked. I looked over at him, a molecule of sympathy coursing through my body. But it was just another day in Thunder Bay. “I don’t really care,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Emmy, stop lying to me,” he said softly. “I know something’s wrong. I know it. Tell me.” The lump in my throat stretched. God, I wanted to tell him. I didn’t want to lose this. I wanted to let him hold me and protect me. He cared. As much as I wanted to pretend that he didn’t, I knew he cared. And my heart that ached to keep him hurt worse than anything Martin had ever done to me.

It would feel so good to dive into his arms and look forward to more with him. I wanted to tell him everything.

He grabbed my elbow and pulled us close again. “Don’t you know you can have anything you want?” he repeated his words from a couple of weeks ago. “I’d hurt anyone for you. Who the hell is it?”

“Stop it,” he bit out. “You hear me? Stop it. Last night was it for me. I don’t want anyone else but you.” Tears sprang to my eyes, and I forced back the sob in my throat. God, I loved him. This hurt. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t be someone he had to take care of. Someone pathetic who would just bring a shit ton of baggage on him that he’d get sick of dealing with. Drawing in a deep breath, I forced the words out, my stomach wracking with pain. “I wanted you, too,” I said, my voice hard. “And I had you. It was fun. Even better than the gossip says it is. Now I’m done.”

Rika. He meant Erika Fane. I’d heard she was engaged to Michael Crist, one of his best friends. Kai was married and a father, as was fucking Damon Torrance. Shocker.

“At least you’re not mad they sent a girl,” she shot back, shrugging her shoulders. He flashed her a look. “Oh, I know you get shit done.”

I just hope he’s gone. Traveling, living…loving, and being loved.

I didn’t waste another second. Blasting off the ground, I lunged for her, ready to tear right through her if I had to, because… Because the only person I knew how to fight for was myself.

But as she climbed on behind him, he looked over his shoulder at her, something written in his smile I’d never seen in him before. Tenderness. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she squealed as they sped off out of the square, disappearing down a street.

I closed my eyes, the weariness of all the years and the past several days weighing heavy, because Will showing me how happy I could be if things were a little different made all this so much harder to bear.

“Does Will know?” he asked, rubbing my blood between his fingers. “No.” He lifted his gaze to mine. “Because he’s the one pure, beautiful thing untainted by ugliness,” he repeated his same words from the shower. “And we love him for it.”

“After a while, you get tired of pretending that you’re in control of everything that happens to you.” He paused, turning to me again. “And you start being what happens to everyone else.”

“Maybe I’ll return the favor someday.” He stood back up. “When you’re ready to deal with him.”

“I have a sister,” he told me. “Her name is Nik, but everyone calls her Banks.” He met my eyes again. “If something happens, and I can’t be there for her—if they arrest me for this—you need to go to my house and help her. She doesn’t have anyone else. You understand?”

“I’m not sure anyone else would’ve helped me bury a body,” he murmured.

It took a moment, but I finally nodded. “A sister. Nik. My age. Got it.” He smiled, small but genuine, and he grabbed the towels, walking over and shutting off my shower, handing me one.

“You’ll have to look out for yourself. Get used to it.” “There’s nothing I’m more used to,” she said in a quiet but firm tone. He winked at her, signaling his approval of her response. I stared at them. What the hell was he doing? Were they fucking bonding or some shit?

Because she wasn’t leaving, even if I had to fight them all and suffer every bone in my body breaking.

Something crossed her eyes, and she looked like she did that morning in the movie theater so long ago. Like she wanted to melt into my arms. Like she didn’t really want to go, because she wanted to stay with me.

Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the girl who made me want to be better. More. I saw Emmy Scott.

They kept me from being lonely, but Emory taught me that not everything I wanted was going to come easy. That there were things I was going to have to fight for and there was pain in the world that my shallow lifestyle in high school kept me ignorant of. She made me feel like a man. Even though her words were sharp and the battle she constantly fought in her heart felt like a knife in my own, her eyes on me made me feel strong. Her arms around me made me want to take on anything.

When I closed my eyes, I saw a girl with glasses too big for her face, and I heard the sweetest, most timid voice asking me if I still wanted to hold her. I could still feel her cradled in my arms.

I’d loved Emory since the moment I laid eyes on her when I was fourteen.

From that moment on, it seemed I was always aware of her, and everything I did, I did it with it in mind that she was watching.

This stupid fantasy of her running to my truck after school, smiling and skipping at my side, unable to keep her hands off me because I was her boyfriend and I always took my girl home from school.

I hated that she was alone. She was always alone, and she shouldn’t have been, because she should’ve been with me.

“The only time I ever loved my life was when I was with you.”

“I was always your Em,” she whispered. “No matter what I said or what I did or all the ways I let life win over the years… That night, I knew. I was in love with you.”

And just like that again, I couldn’t remember why she was bad for me, and I just wanted her where she was supposed to be. With me. All the hate and anger and loss melted away, and I wanted to crawl in behind her and hold her the rest of the night, but I knew my eyes would be open in the morning and the light would hurt.

I grabbed her glasses off the nightstand, slid my arms under her, sheets and all, and swept her up into my arms, taking her to my room with Alex and me. There was no fucking way I was taking my eyes off her tonight.

I was sick of chasing after the girl I knew was meant for me but who didn’t want me.

Son of a bitch. I reared my fist back and punched the motherfucker right across the jaw. He hit the ground, grunting and grabbing his face. He did not get to know shit about her that I didn’t. Fuck him.

What the hell did he know about her that I didn’t? She was my girl, not his.

Everything ached in my chest, and I blinked away the burn in my eyes. “I told you I loved you last night,” I said. “You didn’t even hear me, did you?”

“I do…want you,” she whispered, crying. “It’s all about you.” My chest shook, and I could barely breathe as I stared down at her.

Rising up off the mat, she licked her lips and gazed at me with resolve. “I’ll always want you,” she said quietly.

Just unbridled, stolen moments.