Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

I dropped my eyes for a moment, knowing he didn’t deserve it, but I also knew I wouldn’t have done anything differently if I could. I’d told him to stay away from me. I’d warned him. “I wish I’d never met you,” I said, almost whispering. He stopped, glass grinding under him. “Believe me, girl, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

“Don’t you know that you can have anything you want?” His eyes searched mine. “I’ll hurt anyone for you.” The weight on my chest was too heavy, it almost hurt to breathe. “Who is it?” he asked. “Who do I have to hurt?” My eyes burned. Why did he do this? He’d soften and tempt me with the fantasy that I wasn’t alone and maybe—possibly—there was hope.

He says”—he flipped open his book, reading from it—“‘I knew I had fallen in love with Lolita forever; but I also knew she would not be forever Lolita.’” He looked up at the class. “What did he mean?” “That she’d grow up,” Kai answered. “And no longer be sexually attractive to him because he’s a pedophile.” I smirked to myself. Kai was kind of my favorite Horseman, if I had to pick one.

“And she left him to go shack up with a child pornographer, Kai,” Will spat out. “If she were being abused, why didn’t she have the sense to not put herself back in that situation?” I rubbed my thumb over the paperback cover, hearing it skid across the gloss. My chin trembled, my eyes stinging a little. “I mean, why would she do that?” Will asked. “That’s what I’m saying,” another student chimed in.

That you stayed, because . . . Because . . . “Abuse can feel like love.” I blinked, the voice so close that my ears tingled. Slowly, I raised my eyes to look at the side of Damon Torrance’s face,

But the bruise pounded with pain, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Don’t you know that you can have anything you want? I’ll hurt anyone for you. My chin trembled. I had to get out of here. Abuse can feel like love . . .

I stepped a little closer to Will, too angry to care right now. “Always following,” I taunted him. “Never the leader, and always latching on to anyone who loves you.” He stared at me. “Your friends have moved on,” I told him. “Buying up Thunder Bay. Starting families. Probably happy to be rid of their weakest link.” My eyes burned on him. “Even Damon seems happy, judging from the news I catch from home. No falter in his steps as he does just fine without you.”

She looked at it and then me, shaking her head. “Nope. I don’t even know what that is. A Komodo dragon?” I studied the gray plush toy, taking in his claws, teeth, tail, the scales down his spine, the angry snarl on his face . . .

“It’s Godzilla,” I murmured and then laughed. Who put this in here? And then my face fell. I watched Godzilla last night. I thought I was alone in the theater. Did someone see me?

“I was never trying to scare you,” Will said, rain glistening on his face and wet hair. “I just wanted to see something.”

Nine years. Nine years, and I still wanted to fuck her.

“It’s not my fault,” she bit out. “It’s not my fault that you wrapped your entire happiness up in some delusion you’d cooked up in your head where I loved you and life would be right as rain if we were together.”

“You don’t want me to have what I want, though,” I said. “You don’t want Michael or Kai to have what they want.” “I shouldn’t have everything I want, either,” he argued. “Getting what you want risks losing what you already have, and nothing can come between us.” He looked up, meeting my eyes. “Nothing will be as perfect as this. I don’t like change.”

“You wanna fuck me, too?” I said in a low voice, a soft smile tilting the corner of my mouth. He grinned, still not looking at me. But surprisingly, he replied, “Sometimes.” I stilled. “Sometimes I think about her watching us,” he went on. “I think she’d like it, but she’d hate that she liked it.”

“She’ll never be to you what we are,” he told me, “because she’s too scared, too proud, and too boring.” He stopped and finally turned to me. “She’d never love you like you deserve, because she doesn’t respect you. You’re too shallow to her.” And I felt my insides fold in on themselves, over and over, creating this hole in my gut, because I knew he was right, and fuck him.

Emory Scott hated me, but she hated nearly everyone. So, she was making me work for it. So what? I’d be disappointed if she didn’t. She didn’t respect Michael, Kai, or Damon, either. It shouldn’t hurt. But it did. I always liked her. I always looked for her.

I thought she was Jewish. If not, I was going to feel stupid for the Yom Kippur gift I left in her locker.

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.

the lights dimmed, and the engine started, I remained solo. I chewed the corner of my mouth to hide the tremble. What did I care? What did it matter that I’d been humiliated again? What did it matter that he saw that in the gym? The tears welled. He saw me. He saw that happen to me. He saw what the whole world thought of me, and now he . . . Now, he . . .

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

When the bus stops, get in my fucking truck. I breathed out a bitter laugh. Aw, someone’s lost his temper. Why? I asked.

“Because you’re mine,” he growled in a whisper.

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 would never stop touching you,” he said, his voice almost tired. “And I would touch only you.”

“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.”

I stared at his hard-on, and in the not-so-far recesses of my mind, I wondered what he was thinking about. Me? Or her?

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

But instead of spitting, he shook me hard, growling like he was frustrated with himself more than me, and I broke into more tears. “I’m sorry,” I cried. I was so sorry for all of his pain.

She looked down, probably at our hands, and I didn’t tighten my hold or caress her fingers. I just held her hand. “Look at me,” I whispered. But she choked out a sob, turning her face away so I wouldn’t see. “Don’t,” she demanded. “Please, don’t be sweet. I . . .” But all she did was shake her head, the words lost. Rage boiled my blood, and I wanted to know what happened. Who hurt her? The sight of her crying was like a knife in my gut. But she wouldn’t talk to me. Not yet.

And in that moment, I wanted to do nothing else with my life more than change her world, so she’d never feel like this again.

“Remember what you said about nightfall?” Her lips grazed over my skin, feeling me. “You don’t have to be nice. Not until the end of the movie.”

Fane grabbed the chicken sandwich wrapped in foil and brought it to her. The other girl held out both hands, feeling for the item. I narrowed my eyes, watching her. Slowly, and keeping her eyes focused ahead, she took the item and set it on her tray herself, albeit a little clumsy. Like she couldn’t see.

Realization dawned. This was Winter Ashby. Bitchy Arion Ashby’s kid sister. She was blind, I’d heard.

“Will is like that,” he said, his voice softening, somber now. “Isn’t he?” Like a smile that doesn’t hurt. I nodded. “Easy, normal, peaceful . . .” he told me. “The only thing in my life untouched by anything ugly. Nothing has tainted him. He’s the one thing that’s still beautiful and thinks the world is beautiful and believes people are beautiful and all that shit.” Yeah. But I couldn’t say it out loud, because it was hard enough holding back the sob. “You can’t take him away from me,” Damon told me, stepping back and letting me go.

“And when you’re done with me,” he breathed out over my mouth, “you’ll get to be the first to walk away from something that was never going to happen anyway. You can do that with me. Don’t play with his heart. Use me, instead.”

He nodded, turning around. “Well, I tried.” And then he looked back at me over his shoulder. “Has Will seen the bruises?” I tensed. “Be prepared for what’s going to happen when he does,” he warned. “And what can happen to him if he goes up against a cop.” He walked out, and I stood there, my shoulders slowly slumping with the weight of his words. Will could never see the bruises.

“That’s the thing about broken people, Guillaume. If we ever give you our heart, then you know that you deserve it.” Tears welled in me, but only for a moment.

“I’m not right for you,” I told him. And not because he was rich and popular and I wasn’t, but because he made my life better. I looked forward to him. What did I give him? “Noted,” he replied coolly. “Now let me go.”

“You wanted your tie back,” I whispered. His back moved with each breath. “Keep it,” he told me. “Or throw it away.” He reached for the door handle. “You want something of mine instead?” I blurted out. He stopped, gripping the handle but not turning it.

Reaching over, I pulled a silk paisley scarf off the coat hanger and brought it up to wrap around his eyes. He inched away, trying to turn around, but I stopped him. “What’s this for?” he demanded. Every bruise on my body throbbed, and it took a moment to answer. “Rules,” was all I said.

“Look at me,” he said. I did, the softness in his voice making me forget my brother and my body for a moment. “I . . .” He trailed off, struggling for words. “I . . . like you.” It sounded like “I love you,” and my chin trembled. “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.”

“Restoration,” she murmured. “Churches, hotels, city buildings . . .” And then she looked at me. “Gazebos.” I forced a slight smirk, letting her know that I knew that she knew what I did to hers. She may not have deserved it, but . . . Okay, yeah, she kind of deserved it after she laid waste to my fucking heart. I wanted to break something of hers, too. Fuck it. I was drunk and pissed that night.

“I know someone like that,” I told him. “He couldn’t fight for the life he wanted until he was forced to fight alone. He held on to his friends and to his sister so tightly, he almost killed us, because in that moment, he couldn’t bear to see us leave, and he would’ve rather seen us dead.”

Damon learned. He’d fucked up, but he learned. He’d hurt so many people so badly that he lost everything, but it was only then that he realized his pride was less important than everything he loved.

He looked away from Kai, noticing me as he met my eyes, and stared, unblinking as he took in my appearance. The pink party dress, the blood and bruises . . . Nothing was funny about Reverie Cross’s demise, as there was nothing funny about mine. Tonight I could be seen. Let them all see.

“God, I wanna knock you up,” he said, rising up and looking down at me as he took out a condom. “I want to ruin you for all the times you made me think you didn’t want me. I want to give you a piece of me you’ll never be able to escape.”

“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”

He wanted to give me a piece of him I’d never escape, but he had a part of me I’d never get back. This would never be as good with anyone else. I was fucked, and he’d already had his revenge.

My lungs constricted. “Godzilla,” I called out, taking a step forward. He stopped. Turning back around, he narrowed his hard eyes. “What?”

“Because,” I whispered over his mouth. “Because I want to be your girl.” He circled my waist with both arms like a steel band, stopping me. “And you remember what that means?” I gazed down at him, trying to hide my smile as I remembered everything he wanted. Me, coming home to him every night. Me, at his table and warming his bed. Me, making him a daddy. I nodded. “Say it,” he ordered.