Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end, she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than the other girls.” -J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Whipping me around, he fisted my collar and brought me in, pinning me between his body and the counter. He looked down into my eyes, and I breathed hard, a lock of hair brushing against my mouth. “You like alphas?” he challenged me. I sharpened my eyes on him. “We want what we want.” He glared, those words far more familiar than he wanted to remember, and if I weren’t so fucking scared, I’d laugh. Growling, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Time to meet one then,” he said.

Shallow, boring, tedious, ignorant, and insipid. All the rich kids here were like that. I watched Kenzie Lorraine lean into Nolan Thomas, her mouth moving over his like she was melting into him. She whispered against his lips, and his white teeth flashed through his little grin before he slid his hands around her waist and leaned back against the lockers. My heart skipped a small beat, and I felt my pencil bag, absently sliding it into my satchel without taking my eyes off them. Shallow, boring, tedious, ignorant, and insipid. I blinked, my expression softening as I watched them. Happy, excited, brave, wild, and in heaven. They looked seventeen. And suddenly, for a moment, I wished I was them. Anyone other than me. No wonder hardly anyone at this school liked me. I was even tired of myself. Wouldn’t it be fantastic to be really happy for just five minutes? Her friends hung around, talking to his, but I only saw him and her, wondering how it felt. Even if it wasn’t true love, it had to feel good to be wanted.

Roxie didn’t even have time to clear out of her seat before they were there. Drifting through the door, tall, magnetic, and always together. I turned my head toward the window, closing my eyes behind my glasses and holding my breath as I quickly pulled my earbuds out of my jacket pocket and stuck them in my ears. Anything to look unapproachable. Please, please, please… The prayer was too late, though. I could feel Roxie, Jack, and Drew’s eye rolls as they sighed and grabbed their shit, vacating their seats without even being asked, like it was my fault these guys insisted on completely crowding me no matter where I sat in this damn room. Kai Mori slid into Jack’s seat ahead of me, while Damon Torrance took the seat diagonally from me. I didn’t have to look up to see their dark hair, and I could always tell who was who without checking because Kai smelled like amber musk and the ocean, while Damon smelled like an ashtray.

Everyone in this school hated my brother. Their money and connections had no effect on his willingness as a police officer to hand out speeding tickets, parking tickets, investigate noise complaints, or shut down parties and drinking as soon as he got a whiff of anything going down. My brother was a jerk for doing his job, and when they couldn’t come at him, they came at me.

“Why are your cuffs wet?” His gaze fell and he forced my arm up, so he could look closer. I didn’t answer. He looked back up at me. “And your eyes are red.” My throat tightened, but I gritted my teeth together and yanked my wrists free. But before I could escape from his lap, he grabbed my chin in one hand and wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me in. Against his body, and whispering so softly no one could hear him but me. “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?”

“We’ve talked about Humbert being an unreliable narrator in the book.” Townsend took another drink of coffee. “How we are all the righteous heroes of our own story if we’re the ones telling it.”

“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. Words hung on the tip of my tongue, telling them that they were oversimplifying. That it was easier to judge a girl you knew nothing about than to allow someone the dignity of their process. That it was more convenient to not consider that there were things we didn’t know and things we’d never understand, because we were shallow and entitled and ignorant.

“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, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie draped around his neck. The whole class fell silent, and I glanced at Will next to me, seeing his eyebrows pinched together as he looked at the back of his friend’s head. Mr. Townsend approached. “Abuse can feel like love…” he repeated. “Why?” Damon remained so still it didn’t look like he was breathing. He looked at the teacher, unwavering. “Starving people will eat anything.”

I clutched the phone in my hand and sat back in the seat, wincing at the pain I forgot was there as I looked up at the screen and saw Godzilla. A small smile turned up the corners of my lips. I like Godzilla. And before I knew it, I had popcorn and sat there staring at the screen, my eyes attached to every frame as my brother faded away, school faded away, Will Grayson faded away, and lit class faded away. Because Godzilla was great. And Lolita hurt my head.

“I would be jealous you have people who care enough to send help if it weren’t a female a year too late.” Everyone chuckled. No one sent me. Someone kidnapped me. “Took them long enough,” Taylor added. “And we’ve been here the whole time, taking care of him.” “He’s ours now,” Aydin told me. “The senator’s grandson has elevated his company, my dear. We’re not toys playing at war.”

He stepped out, his dark form somehow much bigger than I was expecting. I took a step back but released a breath, looking up. Jeans, black hoodie, and a white paintball mask with a red stripe down the left side. Will. I almost relaxed. Until I dropped my eyes and noticed the gloves. Black leather. He balled his fists, making them grind and whine as he stretched the material that glinted in the moonlight.

My heart pounded in my chest, my stomach swirling as the fear took root, and I looked up at his face, his eyes through the little holes in the mask barely visible in the darkness. I stopped, suddenly lost in those voids for a moment. He took another step, and a jolt hit my heart, my whole body warming. Still, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Another step. He was almost at me. Why wasn’t I moving? My pulse raced more by the second, and the feeling almost made me smile because I kind of liked it. Something built inside me, stacking one brick on top of another until I was a wall, and every second more that I stood there, the more the room started to spin around us like a storm. And he and I were the eye.

Again. Left, right, left, right. We kept going, his getting faster and me stumbling back to grab the next table’s stand as something filled up in my stomach, my muscles charged, and I started to smile. He moved into me, and I stumbled back, tripping on my foot and losing my balance. I fell backward, but he followed, his arm circling my waist just in time as his other grabbed the table for support. I looked over my shoulder, seeing bits of glass on the floor where I would’ve landed. Turning back to him, I stared up into his eyes as my fingers clutched his shoulders. And then I felt it. The smile still on my face. I was smiling. A little. Shit. Slowly, I let it fall, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his. Guilt washed over me at the mess we made, knowing I couldn’t pay for it, but the worry left as quickly as it came, because all I could feel was the here and now.

The rain and wind blew through the room, and I reached up, my hands shaking as I lifted his mask off his face and dropped it to the floor. He just held me as I slipped the hood off his head and looked up into dark green eyes. “I was never trying to scare you,” Will said, rain glistening on his face and wet hair. “I just wanted to see something.” I stared at him, because I couldn’t speak no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I... I wanted to go, but… I didn’t want to leave. I liked this. But I twisted out of his hold, stumbling backward and landing on my hands away from the glass. A smile glinted in his eyes, and he dropped to his hands and knees, too, watching me with mischief. My heart raced again, hearing the glass crunch under his palms, and I held his eyes, scooting back slowly as he moved toward me. But just then, he moved with the speed of light, barreling right at me, and I yelped as I leapt to my feet and so did he, but before I could run, he crashed into me and pinned me to the wall. I exhaled hard, trying to keep the smile off my face, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. My heart was beating so fast.

“Unlock the doors,” I said again, walking over to his side. “Why?” he asked. I scowled. “Why?” What do you mean, why? “I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he said, staring out at the rain pummeling the roof, “but why wasn’t I?” “Real monsters don’t wear masks, William Grayson III,” I retorted. “They look like everyone else.”

I turned my head, looking over at Will. His hair had dried, and even though I’d never seen it looking so messy, he still pulled it off, because he was born with it. Stern brown eyebrows, a sharp nose, but soft lips and the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen behind those sweet, sleeping eyelids and long lashes. Why couldn’t guys this cute ever be nice? I blinked, dropping my gaze. Of course, he did give me his sleeping bag. And probably the granola bar and Godzilla, too, even though he broke into my locker to leave it for me.

“So what were you trying to do?” I asked in a low voice. “When?” I looked up to see his eyes still closed. “You said you weren’t trying to scare me upstairs,” I told him. “So, what were you trying to do?” His chest rose and fell in steady breaths, hesitating a moment. “I was trying to see if you liked it,” he whispered. If I liked what? Him? The chase? The danger? The risk? Well, I didn’t. But I couldn’t help but ask, “And? What conclusion did you come to?” The corner of his mouth curled into a smile, but he didn’t open his eyes, and he didn’t answer. “Go to sleep.”

She backed away and then shot out her foot, kicking the glass with a snarl on her face. I stared. “Come on, Will,” she begged. “Stop the waiting and come on.” She kicked the glass again and again, baring her teeth, and I almost smiled again, remembering that night in the lab. How she challenged us, so ready to face danger. So tough. So cocky. I liked stubborn. I liked women who took control. But then she spoke up again, inhaling hard and shallow. “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 did what I had to do, and I’d do it again,” she growled, her voice cracking. “I’d do it again.” She gasped for breath and closed her eyes, dropping her forehead into the mirror and punching the glass. “I’d do it again,” she choked out, her voice thick with tears. 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.”

“About fucking time,” Michael grumbled. I blew out a puff of smoke and followed his gaze, seeing Damon finally jog out of the cathedral and across the street. Switching the cigarette to my left hand, I started the engine again. “Get out.” Damon opened up the passenger side door and jerked his thumb at Michael. “Now.” But Michael just sat there, looking amused. Damon cocked an eyebrow. “I will put you in my lap if you want,” he told him, “but I’m sitting there.” I laughed under my breath. Michael knew the rules. When he drove, which was almost always, Kai rode shotgun. When I drove, Damon and I were the ones in charge.

I was normally a happy boy, but his hard-on for me was fucking with my patience. He didn’t pull over Michael, Damon, or Kai constantly. He messed with me because he assumed I didn’t have a brain. They thought that because I liked being nice, that I didn’t know how to be mean. And believe me, I was capable.

I looked back down at Edward McClanahan’s grave, the old marble headstone green with age, rain, and snow, the years of his life barely visible anymore. But we knew his age. Nineteen thirty-six to nineteen fifty-four. Eighteen. Young, just like us. He’d be eighteen forever. His surviving relatives wanted his legend to die, and the notoriety of the family name with it, so they built themselves a tomb, thinking they were going to hide him behind stone walls and a gate.

Michael caught my eye, a knowing smile curling his lips. Pulling the cell phone out of my pocket, I turned it on and started recording, documenting our annual pilgrimage to McClanahan’s grave every year since freshman year. Damon threw me a beer, and the rest of us cracked ours open. “To McClanahan,” Michael called out. “McClanahan,” everyone joined in, raising our cans in the air. “The first Horseman,” Damon chimed in.

Not was a fucking king. Is a fucking king, because to us, he was a living, breathing part of this town.

“Are you coming?” he sighed. I followed his gaze, eyeing the legs and hair and how easy it would be to have some fun and get off, but… “I don’t know,” I told him. “You ever think of doing this shit in the comfort of your bed?” I was tired of playing in the catacombs, but Damon didn’t like to play alone. He needed me. I liked someone needing me. “Why does no one ever get to go into your room?” I asked. “Not me. Not Michael. Not Kai. Definitely no girls. Can’t we all go somewhere comfortable?” “You wanna see my bed?” Damon teased. “I’d like to make sure it’s not a coffin.” He snorted, but still…he didn’t answer the question. What was he hiding in there anyway?

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. And over the years, passing her in the halls and feeling her in the classroom next to me, she got hot as fuck in ways no one else seemed to notice but me. 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.

“Look at me,” he told Will, their noses almost touching. And then, Aydin’s gaze flashed over to me, a bitter smile playing on his lips and a sinking feeling hit my gut. He controlled everything.

Shoving Will away, he brought his hand down hard, slapping Will in the face. “Ask,” he said again. Will stumbled, his back to me, but after a moment, he rose again, standing tall. Aydin shook his head, charging up to him and slapping the same side again and again, pushing Will back until he lost his footing, spun around, and dropped to his hands and knees. Tears filled my eyes, and I stared down at Will as he took a moment to catch his breath, and then he rose back up, facing Aydin and steeling his spine for more. What the hell was he doing? Will could fight. He wasn’t even trying. What had happened to him? Aydin stepped up, nose to nose, and gazed into Will’s eyes. “He’s hurting,” he said to him. “Ask me or beat me, and you can have the whole bottle.” The bottle. I eyed the Scotch whiskey. And then to Micah. Rory and Will were trying to get Aydin’s liquor to soothe Micah’s pain.

The muscles in Will’s jaw flexed, and Aydin didn’t wait for his answer. Balling his fist, he reared back, swung, and slammed Will across the jaw, then grabbed his head and brought it down on his knee. I gasped as blood spurted from Will’s nose and he fell to his knees again. I started to rush tow...

“All I have to do is win?” I pressed. Will lurched forward before he could respond, his whole body tight and flexed. “One more step,” Aydin growled over his shoulder to Will, “and the choice is no longer hers. We can explore a whole slew of other arrangements to help her earn her freedom.” Will halted, breathing hard, and the first glimpse of worry in his eyes I’d seen since I got here darted between Aydin and me.

All I needed was one good hit. The jaw was the knock-out button. If I hit his jaw, he’d go down like a dead deer. “If you’re lying,” I said, turning my gaze to Aydin, “they’ll know your word means nothing.” He nodded once. “You win, you walk.” And then he waved his hand, signaling us to start. “Taylor?” “No, me.” Will pulled up next to Aydin. “Let her fight me.” “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.

I pushed myself to my feet, feeling Will off to the side, the energy in his legs ready to move at any second. But I didn’t need him. I reared back my fist, aiming straight for Taylor’s jaw, but he caught it, squeezing my wrist with one hand and throwing the other across my face. “Ah,” I gasped, my cheek bursting into flames. Grabbing the back of my hair and making my scalp scream, he threw a fist into my stomach, and I collapsed to my knees before another hand flew across my face again. Blood filled my mouth, my eyes watered, and I could barely see. No. I clenched my teeth to keep the cry in, but then I remembered my grandmother wasn’t upstairs to hear anything. “Enough!” I heard Will yell.

Taylor hunched over with my weight on him, but pushed himself to his feet, breathing a mile a minute and no longer at ease. “I went easy with those hits,” he gritted out. “And believe me when I tell you I know how to take one,” I replied.

I widened my eyes and rolled away, my heart in my throat just as the toe of his foot hit me in the eye. Fuck. 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?”

“Use your head,” he told me, carrying me into his room as if I weighed nothing. “You’ll need it to stay alive, because this is not how we end, Emory Scott.” Despite myself, I almost smiled. But I didn’t. No. This wasn’t how I ended. I had twenty-nine days.

I could say band and swim were an excuse to be out of the house. That my project in the park was something else I used to avoid going home. That all these activities were things I could do relatively alone without too many others, especially peers, interfering in my role. The truth was, I liked showing people what I could do. To the town with the gazebo. To the few students and parents who had showed up to cheer us on at swim meets when I was on the team. To the whole school when I walked the football field and played the flute. 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. Nah. Being able to swim the hundred-meter freestyle in forty-eight seconds was really what life was all about. That made me happy. I didn’t need that other shit.

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. I tensed, but I didn’t look down to see what he was talking about. Minor bruises dotted my legs, but my arms, torso, and back were worse. I’d made sure to cover those with the rash guard. I slipped on my flip-flops, but I heard movement in the water and looked back to see him leaning over the edge and gazing up at me. “Why were you coming out of the cathedral last Saturday night?” I cocked an eyebrow. Stalker. Throwing the towel over my shoulder, I took the goggles off my head and started for the locker room. “Stay,” he said again. And something about how he said it made my insides shake a little. Slowly, I stopped. Stay.

I started to walk away, but before I knew what was happening, he’d jumped up, grabbed my arm, and yanked me down into the pool. I screamed and splashed, but he didn’t let me go under, pulling me into his body and wrapping his arms around me instead. I looked up at him, breathing hard, and he looked down at me, our lips inches from each other. Drops of water glistened in his hair and wet his eyelashes, and for a moment, I had no will. I lowered my eyes to his mouth. Supple and strong and most amazing when he used it to smile. Tears pooled in my eyes. I couldn’t stop him. Don’t. Please. I wasn’t a happy person. Not ever. I won’t be able to stop you. 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. I stilled, not sure what to do, but I could feel every muscle in his body flex as he held me and took deep breaths. And slowly, I closed my eyes, every ounce of fight draining out of me, feeling his embrace. It had been so long since I felt this. My grandmother was hardly lucid enough to hug me much anymore. My arms itched, wanting to touch him. God, I wanted to hold him. 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.”

Ugh. What was he doing? Why wouldn’t he just stop? I swam for the edge of the pool, picked up my shit without bothering to dry off, and stormed into the girls’ locker room. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Didn’t guys like him want…something else? Or someone else? He was getting to me. Making me think I was wrong about him or something. For years, he’d had this whole “what you see is what you get” vibe, and now he wanted to convince the world that we were wrong.

My throat swelled with a golf ball-size lump, and I couldn’t stop feeling his arms around me. It was nice. I didn’t want to want more. Everything I said about him was true. He was shallow, and he was using me. Bottom line. I couldn’t forget that. There was a moment, though, when he held me, where he was me, and I was him, and we weren’t alone. It felt like I was supposed to be there. I closed my eyes as I walked, tears wetting my lashes. I was looking for meaning where there wasn’t any because I had nothing else. It wasn’t real, and he didn’t feel it, too. Remember that, Em. Don’t forget it. For a few seconds, I saw what I wanted to see.

“When everyone grows up and realizes they’re nothing,” he continued. “I’ll laugh and celebrate then. Or when they finally get arrested for all the dumb shit they pull.” “Some brother you are.” He shrugged, but I smiled a little. He might not be so bad, after all. And I understood where he was coming from. I wouldn’t cry if my brother got into a little trouble. In the distance, Will took out a cell phone as he stepped into the hangout, looking like he was filming a couple of the guys rough housing. “That is true, though, isn’t it?” I thought out loud. “About the risk of getting arrested, I mean. They film everything with that phone. It’s pretty careless.” Trevor followed my gaze, everyone knowing that the Horsemen recorded their escapades. There was proof of all the petty crimes and pranks they’d pulled. “If anyone had half a mind to,” I went on, “there would be no way to ignore their behavior if someone shared those videos in the right place, you know? Can you imagine the embarrassment?” The places they’d robbed? Vandalized? The underage girls—maybe guys, too—or hey, maybe there were even married women on that phone. The town would go crazy.

Trevor still stood there, gazing after them in the billiards hall. “Learn a lesson from this,” I told him. “Don’t document your shit. The Internet lives forever. Got it.” But I didn’t think he heard me as he absently nodded. “See ya,” he said, finally turning away and heading back to his friend.

I flipped through, inspecting every page and reading every answer, seeing that it was all completed, the answers impressive, even for me, although a couple of the responses kind of pissed me off. I dropped my hands, staring off. I thought for sure Godzilla and the granola bar was Will, but this was snuck into my locker, as well. And it was done tonight. This wasn’t in my bag before I went swimming. There was no way he’d done this. Unless he buttered up a girl to do it for him. It did look like a guy’s penmanship, though.

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 blinked my eyes open, the blurry room in front of me slowly coming into view. The weight of a truck sat on my back, and I rolled myself over, peeling my face off the pillow. My arm draped over the other half of the empty bed. It was just a dream. 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. Tears ached behind my eyes, remembering how he felt and how much I really wanted to feel that again right now. He barely looked at me yesterday. He always looked at me.

God, who put me in Blackchurch? My brother wouldn’t have the clout for this. I’d heard he’d married, but it had been years since I’d seen him. Why now? No, it had to be someone else. Someone who wanted to give Will his revenge and didn’t give a shit about me. There were lots of possibilities.

Sitting up, I winced at the soreness in my stomach, and I reached out, tonguing the cut on my lip. It was funny, and I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t mind the pain. I actually kind of liked it. It was familiar. It reminded me that I was alive. Strange as it was the p...

Reaching out, I touched my reflection in the mirror, feeling it. Remembering. Every hair on my arms rose. Every inch of my skin hummed. The air coursed through my fingers, and the muscles in my legs flexed, standing tall and strong. I curled my fingers into the mirror, alive. I was a fighter once. Closing my eyes, I flattened my hand against the mirror once more, feeling warmth from the other side. Were one of them in there keeping an eye on me? Was Will in there?

“Are you and him…?” I didn’t finish, just letting him figure it out. He smiled and looked back at the water, but I caught the blush on his face.

Micah held up his wrist, showing me his bronze-colored bracelet. I studied it, just realizing they all wore one. It hadn’t struck me yesterday, but now that I was seeing it, I remembered they all had one on. “It tracks us,” he said. “And it doesn’t come off. Believe me, we all try.” I didn’t have one, though. “It vibrates when the team is coming,” he explains. “Security arrives first, and if we’re in our rooms like good little boys, they simply flip a lock to keep us secure. If we’re not, then they’ll find us and lock us in our rooms themselves. When the doors open again, they’re gone, the fridge is stocked, the toilets are clean, our wardrobe is replenished, and every piece of furniture is shining. Almost like we get a do-over every month.” “A whole new chance to not break, spill, or bleed all over the floors again, huh?” He snorted. “Yeah.” “Can you talk to them when they arrive?” “We can try.” He removed the now-soaked bandage on my arm. “But ultimately, the ones in charge aren’t the ones we see. The team is just doing a job.”