Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

Walking over, she lifted the pillow to her nose and inhaled his scent. I narrowed my eyes, a knot tightening in my gut. She pulled back, and then dove back in, drawing him in again. I clenched my teeth.

I raised my fingers to the mirror, less than a foot from her face as I stared into her stunning eyes. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. 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.” My amusement fell, and I flexed my jaw.

I moved my palm to hers, staring down at her, centimeters away as I rubbed her cheek with my thumb. “No worries, baby,” I murmured. “I intend to deserve it this time.”

“Some women need a thumb on the clit when you’re inside them, you know?” he taunted. “Does she like men to do that to her?”

They thought that because I liked being nice, that I didn’t know how to be mean. And believe me, I was capable.

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

who I wanted to be. I just wanted my people, and I wanted the girl of my dreams.

I’d rather relive last night, even though all that girl and I did was fight.

I smiled to myself. She’d fallen asleep with her glasses on last night. I took them off. I loved the way her tie was always tightened half-assed, her cuffs were too long and never buttoned, and her skin was my fucking religion lately. Especially the skin on her neck. I hated school, but I was dying for Monday. She was gone when I woke up this morning, and I wanted to see her look at me after last night.

“You’re not good enough for her,” Damon said, breaking the silence. I stared at him. How did he know what I was thinking? “You’ll never be good enough for her,” he pointed out. “Best you hear it now.” “A friend would help me get what I wanted,” I told him.

I always liked her. I always looked for her.

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. It made me smile. But I also saw things no one else did. The cute way she’d trip over a sidewalk slab or walk straight into a mailbox, because her eyes were lost in the trees over her head instead of watching where she was going. How she’d push her grandmother in her wheelchair down to the village, both of them smiling and eating ice cream together. Emmy would hold her hand the whole time they sat. The way she worked so hard, all by herself, without anyone to keep her company on her creative projects around town. There was so much there that people didn’t see. She shouldn’t be alone all the time. But Damon was right. She’d never be on my arm. She’d never let her guard down.

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

but I knew she wouldn’t take a ride from me. She wouldn’t take anything from me. 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 gasped as blood spurted from Will’s nose and he fell to his knees again. I started to rush toward him, but he shot out his hand, stopping me without a look in my direction.

“Come here,” he said softly. I darted my eyes to his, seeing him tread through the water to the edge closest to me, looking like a god on Earth. Too bad for him, I worshiped no one.

they didn’t have the time or energy to fight for anything else. Keep them poor, hungry, and dumb.

“But then how can you watch?” he retorted. He didn’t really want Will to answer the question. He knew—love me or hate me—Will would go easy on me, and I was starting to get the feeling that Aydin wanted this to hurt Will, too.

“Enough!” I heard Will yell. I flexed the muscles in my thighs, forcing my legs to stop shaking. Will had never seen me get hurt. He didn’t know what I could take.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and I could feel the blood dripping over my cheek bone. “Goddammit,” Will yelled. “Enough!” “Is that enough, Emory?” Aydin chimed in. “You giving up?”

He leaned down next to my ear. “I could be inside you in three seconds,” he whispered. “And I will be when—”

I screamed, crashing to my side on the hard, marble surface, and I looked up, seeing the blond boy fall through the air right for me. He hit the ground next to me, his head whipping back, and I shot out my hands, catching his skull right before it cracked against the floor. We both breathed hard, his head cradled in my palms next to me, and he blinked, finally meeting my eyes.

“Emmy, Jesus…” Will glared at me, his eyes drifting down my body. But before he could say more, Aydin dove in and swept me into his arms, something between a scowl and worry playing in his eyes, too. “Get her some food and water,” he ordered someone. “And get my kit, some clean bandages, and some alcohol.”

Will met my eyes over Aydin’s shoulder, and while I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, he didn’t look away.

“How long have you been here?” He met my gaze. “Two years, one month, fifteen days.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. The idea of Will being here that long hurt.

Will’s body shook with a laugh behind his friend, and his grin just looked so happy and easy. I started to smile, too, but stopped, remembering myself.

Every little thing you could do made you feel stronger. I have this, so I don’t need you. I have that, so I don’t need you. Sometimes I was able to kid myself into believing that having this or being able to do that made me too busy and too important to possibly care about everything that I didn’t have and everything I’d never be. Like a smiler. Like friends. Like having someone who loved to tickle me and kiss me all over my face, not just on my lips.

me with one hand around my waist, and the other under my thigh. “Calm down.” I coughed, only managing short, shallow breaths as my lungs cleared, and I wiped my eyes. “Piss…” I choked out, blinking and seeing Will Grayson holding me. “Off.”

while Damon slammed his fist in the water and shot daggers at me with his eyes. Blood poured out of his left nostril as he reached onto the deck for a towel. Asshole. I could’ve drowned.

A blonde came up behind Will, watching us before taking his hand. “I have to be home by ten,” she said. “Come spend time with me.” His eyes stayed fixed on me. “You okay?” I shot him a snarl as I walked for the edge. “Then go home,” he ordered me, turning away. I whipped around, still trying to catch my breath.

When I turned around only Will remained, staring at me from where I left him in the pool. “Why don’t you like me?” he asked. I ignored him, wringing out my ponytail. “And what happened to your legs?” he questioned next.

“Stay,” he said again. And something about how he said it made my insides shake a little. Slowly, I stopped. Stay.

“I hate your friends,” I continued. “I don’t want to be around any of them. Except Kai, maybe. One of three Asian kids in a school full of WASPs, he, at least, has some clue what it’s like to be me.” Pretty sure the only other Jewish kid graduated last year.

“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.

But before I could work up the courage to pull away or hug him back, he whispered, “I’m not like that.” And he pulled up, staring down at me almost nose to nose. “And I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow night, Emory Scott.”

“Look at it this way,” I heard Trevor say. “Once they graduate, Devil’s Night is dead. Thank-fucking-God, right?” I turned to him. “Not going to carry on the family tradition?” Trevor was three years behind his brother Michael. Plenty of time left in high school. But he just scoffed. “You mean the once-a-year beef fest where my brother and his friends get the whole town to suck their cocks because they’re too stupid to remember how to be men the other three-hundred-sixty-four days of the year?” He shook his head. “No.”

But as I looked over the packet, my name written at the top, I saw the questions already completed. All of them. Neat, block lettering in pencil.

He wouldn’t have to look for me, because I had a question that needed answering. 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.

He barely looked at me yesterday. He always looked at me. God, who put me in Blackchurch?

He just chuckled, stuffing his T-shirt into his back pocket. “I’ll draw you one. You look rough,” he explained. “How do you feel?”

started the water, dipping his hand in the stream and adjusting the temperature. “Rory told me what you did,” he said, sitting on the edge of the tub and looking over at me. “Thank you.”

I sat down, letting my eyes fall closed at how good the water felt. Taking the bait, he tipped my head back and water poured over my scalp, wetting my hair as he filled the cup and did it again and again.

blood warm. I was pretty sure these two might just be happy staying here for the rest of their lives if they had each other. “Would Rory mind if you helped me with my hair?”

“He needs me more than you do right now,” Micah joked. My thighs hummed. Damn. “Thank you.” I sighed, not ready to give up the attention.

to the floor next to the tub. I peered over the edge, finding an old, rectangular wooden case and picked it up, opening the rusted clasp. Flipping the lid, I saw mechanical pencils, a French curve, a T-square, an eraser, a compass… I darted my gaze to Micah. These were drawing tools.

“You can walk freely about the house,” he told me. “No one is to touch you, Aydin says.” And then he smiled, adding, “Unless you invite us to.” He closed the door, Rory’s laugh echoing down the hall.

People passed me, quiet and not a snicker to be heard, because Will Grayson had cast his net, letting them all know I was off limits.