Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

But I still stared at her as I sat down, leaning back in my chair. “You weren’t that fucking great,” I said. “You were a huge hassle that I indulged in for far too long.” She held my eyes. “I know.” “There were girls who were nicer.” She nodded, her tone softening. “I know.” I ground my thumb against the insides of my fingers. “Friends who were kinder.” “Yeah.” “I haven’t called you,” I pointed out. “I haven’t contacted you in any way in nearly nine years.” She opened her mouth but then closed it, breathing a little shallower. “I don’t care what you went through,” I said. Again, she nodded. “There were people who loved me, and I wasted time on someone who didn’t.” My heart hammered as I dropped my gaze to her neck. Her olive skin glowed with a light layer of sweat. “I understand,” she said. Fucking bitch. My dick swelled and hardened as I got angrier by the second. “You had years to reach out, but you didn’t,” I told her. “Believe me, I had time to become well-aware you didn’t give a shit, and now, neither do I.” I saw the lump in her throat move up and down. “I moved on.” The candle flickered, a draft hitting us from somewhere in the house. “I kissed others, touched their faces like I touched yours, and spent time with them like I never did with you.” You don’t matter. Her jaw flexed, and I gazed at her pretty little throat, my fingers humming with the urge to pin her to this table and eat her out until she screamed. “Years of nights,” I said, and I wasn’t sure if I was s...