Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“Help me. I know you loved him. How can anyone not love him?” A small laugh escaped through the lump lodged in my throat. True. I was glad to hear I wasn’t the only one susceptible to his power. Everyone adored that boy.

“You know how to fight,” she said, sounding surprised. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about our scuffle in the foyer yesterday or if she saw my match with Taylor the other day. But I shook my head. “I just know how to get back up.” “That’s half the battle.”

Sooner or later, the familiar hopelessness was easier than the hopeful unknown.

But this was who I was, and I wasn’t going to wallow away my time, waiting for my heart to catch up to my head, and if it was something as simple as keeping my hands busy in order to survive Will Grayson and how much I wished I could do everything over again, then that’s what I would do.

No one was going to tell me how to feel. Not anymore. No one could make me feel anything I didn’t allow. I was in control.

I was glad he had his friends. They loved him, and Will deserved to never be alone. But I also hated the idea of anyone else but me making him happy. Making Will happy was an amazing feeling.

You smile and laugh, not just because your head and everything in it feels lighter, but because when you’re drunk or high, it’s like a vacation. When you’re away from the same people, the same places, the same work…you don’t think about it. It’s a break from everything that worries you or makes you anxious or keeps your world small and shallow, and everyone who wants to take a piece out of you, and when you’re high, it’s like that. It just doesn’t even matter.

She got drunk and loved her brother again.

“The thought left me as quickly as it came,” she added, “because I wanted you, and deep down I held so tightly to the hope of you. I needed that.”

I gazed at Emmy, remembering how stubborn I thought she was, but really she just made sense, and I resented her for it. We were a part of two different worlds, my friends would be difficult with her, and I was outgoing and loved to be around people, and she preferred to be alone. We were so different. But those moments, like when I had her in my arms in the theater, confirmed what I already knew. It would be worth it.

My heart sank a moment as I looked at Em, because it was all true. Nothing else mattered. If it killed us, she was the one. In that moment, I didn’t care about her sins, if anyone else had touched her besides me, or that we were both our own worst enemies. That was my girl, scarred, tattered soul, and all. She was beautiful.

My heart ached. God, that dress. Her smile. Emmy Scott happy was the most beautiful thing in the world.

I looked away, his words making my blood boil a little. He was trying to be a friend. Trying to be on my side. But I wish he’d shut up. Emmy wasn’t like that. I could be angry with her but no one else. In my heart, she was still my girl.

And God help me, if he did anything like that to Emmy, I wouldn’t hesitate. He’d be dead.

I wanted to watch it. To relive it. To see him suffer over and over again.

Was he right? He wasn’t right. She didn’t say it, but I knew she loved me. I felt it. It was him. He made her forget about me. He made her scared.

“and you’re going to leave without the only thing you want.” Me.

Aydin’s eyes fell, and he tightened the rope around Will’s wrist. “I want him to know what this feels like,” he murmured. “To watch the one woman it physically hurts to look at, because you want her so much, give her time and loyalty and love to another.” He glared over at me. “I want him to feel this.”

“Wendy, Wendy,” he taunted. “It’s true, then. One girl is worth twenty boys, it seems. So glad you’re on my team.”

And then…a whisper came in close—calm, hard, and deep. “You’re not Peter,” it said.

Will called us. “Alex,” he said, standing back and watching them. “Emory.” Alex immediately went to his side, but I stayed rooted. A fire lit behind his eyes. “I will raise hell and reduce this house to ash if you act like this is a choice for one more second!” he bellowed at me and then pointed to his side. “Now!”

“Take her,” Will ordered. The next thing I knew I was being swept into someone’s arms and over his shoulder, and I screamed, trying to thrash my way free. I could walk. “And don’t put her down,” Will growled. “She likes to not cooperate.”

“You hesitated,” Will growled, black streaks covering his body from the fire. “In the cellar… You hesitated! Again! And you were going back for him when you never came back for me. Ever!”

“Emory Scott loves Will Grayson,”

But my God, was she blind? All she had to do was tell me. Lean on me. Ask for help. That was all she ever had to do!

She flinched, but just then, someone pushed my ass back, and I stumbled, looking up and meeting Micah’s eyes. He slipped in between us, Rory joining him and both of them inserting themselves between Emmy and me and staring at me like a warning. What the hell? I tipped my chin up, glaring as my guys—my guys—now stood in front of her instead of behind me.

“What do you think was the only thing that made me keep breathing?” My tone hardened as I clenched my jaw. “In my brain, I reached for you. I never stopped reaching for you.”

“You never did see how much everyone needed you.” A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You. Just the way you were.”

“The role of the villain is only determined by who’s telling the story.”

They got redemption, because they felt they had their reasons.

Damon and Kai looked at each other, and even though Kai was the one I could see myself connecting to in high school, because he was stubborn with a clear idea of right and wrong, Damon had been my savior on more than one occasion when life had proved there was so much gray.

What had been happening in my head in that house was the same battle I’d always fought. A battle between how I always saw the world, and how I craved to see the world instead. I needed to change as much as I needed Will. I needed to like myself as much as I loved him.

“I will make amends for my crime all those years ago,” I told her, “but what goes on between Will and me is none of your business. I don’t give a shit if you’re his friend, his mom, or God. You’re not entitled to a grudge against me. This isn’t about you.”

We couldn’t shut out every single person who’d disappointed us. Some of them were still worth fighting for.

I wanted Will more than I’d ever wanted anything. I wanted it all. I just didn’t want him experiencing the stress of my life. I was embarrassed. And I needed to protect my grandma. I fucking sacrificed.

“Get fucked, Alex Palmer!”

finally somebody said it

I wasn’t scared to fall with him, because he made me feel safe no matter how high we climbed.

A smile threatened, and I jerked my chin at David to get her out of here before she saw how much power she still had over me.

She fit with us. She was made for us.

How we’d missed the simple pleasures of speed and wind and freedom.

Or maybe it aggravated me they’d taken her side yesterday, and I wanted some time with them myself. I’d worked too long and too hard on them to lose them to my little usurper. I did kind of appreciate their loyalty to her, though. That might be useful.

Setting him back in his bed, I pressed my lips to his head and handed him his stuffed snake, smiling to myself as I remembered the Godzilla that I got Em. I wondered if she still had it.

my Little Trouble

Pulling her up, I sat myself down in her place and pulled her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her.

She hadn’t needed a boyfriend. She’d needed a friend, and I’d been selfish and arrogant and spoiled. I should’ve been whatever she needed, whenever she needed me. She didn’t owe me her heart just because I wanted it.

“Will, no,” she cried, banging on the other side of the door. “Don’t go, please.” I tipped my forehead into the wood, desperate to have heard those words from her a million times in the past. “Will,” she called again. “Stay with me.”

I was sick of this same story. Sick of not having her. Sick of Martin Scott. Sick of not seizing the life I was meant for.

I realized that my life decisions could be characterized as questionable, but not every crazy thing I did was because I was drunk. Just some things.

I knew I was head over heels watching the light in her eyes.

“We’re going to light up the fucking sky, because Michael Crist is marrying Erika Fane in two days!”