Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“Or maybe you have a thing for doomed romances.”

“But I’m getting really tired of you looking at me like that,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Like I can’t be trusted.”

“And I’m getting really fucking tired of you saying that.” His jaw flexed. “What’s the problem? Yesterday was amazing. Why do you always have to think so much until you’ve twisted something that was good into something bad?”

“You know how many girls I can get like that?”

Frankly, I’d been surprised he even spoke English. Figured him for someone who communicated solely in emojis.

“I hope we didn’t wake you.” He looked thoughtful. “Your granddaughter was giving me the verbal beating I deserved. I apologize.”

“It was a long time before I met someone who could take me,” she explained. “That’s the thing about broken people, Guillaume. If we ever give you our heart, then you know that you deserve it.”

“Because you’re suspicious of everything good,” he told me.

“And it won’t end when you go to college or leave this town, Em. Nothing will change. You still won’t have good things.”

“Because as soon as it was over, I know I’ll never have to hear from you again.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, gripping his T-shirt at his waist and dipping my forehead into his back. “I’m not . . .” My voice shook. “I’m just . . . not a happy person, Will. And you’re right, I never will be.”

My heartbeat raged, and I knew I was going too far again. I’d regret this. I’d hate him later. He’d hate me. My brother could drop by on his rounds to check on me . . . But . . . I didn’t give a shit.

“There’s a part of you that’s my size, I’ll bet,” he teased.

I wanted him to know he deserved better. I wanted him to know that if I were someone else, I’d be his and I’d love him so good.

“And I’m your man now.” He took off the blindfold, looking up into my eyes. “And I’m asking you for tonight.”

“I . . .” He trailed off, struggling for words. “I . . . like you.”

“I’ve liked you forever,” he said. “If you talk to him, the spell will break and the night will be over because you’re not the same in the sun. You’ll have all kinds of reasons again tomorrow about why I can’t have you. Stay with me tonight. Don’t talk to him. Don’t let anything between us tonight.”

“Of course, you did.” His tone was clipped. “We’re expecting wind tonight.

Make sure the windows are closed, the garbage cans are stored, and the . . .”

I stood there for a minute, sick of the guilt and self-hate. I’d done it again. I was a bitter, condescending coward, and hopefully, he’d move on to someone like him. Happy and bubbly and . . . fun.

It wasn’t a truck—I don’t think. It wasn’t Will.

I inched closer. What the hell was that?

CHAPTER 15

Aydin was the only thing keeping that one on a leash. If Aydin weren’t here, I knew exactly what Taylor would try to do with her.

This shouldn’t have taken so long. I just didn’t expect him to be so tough to crack. I had no idea where he was hiding his contraband, and after over a year, I had yet to find it.

“Then you can get her out,” I stated. “I want her gone.” “You want her safe. She is safe.”

“She thinks I arranged to bring her here,” I told him.

Yes. Right now, she thought I was still obsessed and small-minded, every moment we spent together vivid and tantalizing in my memory.

I was supposed to be somebody by now. I was supposed to make her regret not wanting me, and this was humiliating. She shouldn’t be here.

Get her drunk. Get everyone drunk. No.

I was going to kill Michael when I got home. I was going to drench his fancy, fucking suit in his own blood for sending her here.

I wanted the burn of the drink in my throat. I’d been clean for almost two years, but only sober for one, and it was still hard.

I forced a slight smirk, letting her know that I knew that she knew what I did to hers.

Okay, yeah, she kind of deserved it after she laid waste to my fucking heart. I wanted to break something of hers, too.

I tensed. Something was off about her right now.

Michael and Rika? Didn’t know that, but she didn’t need to know that. I hid my surprise.

Emmy continued, “It’s an annual festival of sorts, but it basically boils down to local rich kids basking in the gloriousness of their privilege.”

Her eyes glowed bright, her skin glistening a little. What was going on?

“Didn’t he ever tell you, Will?” she asked me.

“Did you ever find what I had buried under the gazebo when you burned it down?” she asked. “Or is it still there under the dirt?”

“All the shit you don’t know,” she said. “So clueless. It’s almost comforting how you don’t change.”

“Drugs and alcohol and more drugs and alcohol, mixed with how many women over the years?” And then she looked around the table, stopping on Micah first. “I know your story.” Then she flicked her gaze to Taylor. “And I can only assume you’re plagued by every vice in the book, judging from the leering and creep factor. What happened? Accidentally almost kill a girl when you kept the plastic bag on her head too long during sex?” She shook her head and gazed around at all of us. “You’re not monsters. You’re jokes.”

Was she drunk right now?

And then it hit me. Flushed skin, sweat . . . I found her bowl of spilled soup on the table and picked it up, smelling it.

He’d spiked her dinner.

“Three, actually.” He took a gulp of his bourbon and set the glass back down. “And four men, as well. I drugged them and took them to the lake.” He paused,

his gaze falling. “In the dark. At night. Deserted. Alone.” Em stared at him, unmoving as she listened.

“At first, I hurt them,” Rory went on, the memory playing in his head. “Burned them, waterboarded them, cut them . . . just to see if it would make me sympathetic enough to not kill them. To ...

“Evil doesn’t exist. That’s just an excuse for people who want quick answers for complicated questions that they’re too lazy to deal with. There’s always a reason things are as they are.”

“You know why he likes it here? Because if not for this place, he’d be alone.”