Nightfall (Devil’s Night Book 4)
Nightfall: Chapter 25

Present

Of course.

Of course, she wanted to run, because that’s all she ever wanted to do.

But rather than be hurt about it, I was pissed now. I made excuses years ago—I wasn’t good enough for her or she had too many hang-ups to let herself want me, but now, there was no doubt. She was the selfish, heartless, waste of time Damon always said she was for rejecting me, and she could fuck right off.

I didn’t need anyone to save me, and I didn’t need her for anything.

Reaching down, I pulled her off Alex, hearing her shirt tear as I threw her back and out of the way. If she was actually going to leave without me, then she could stay here without me, too. Goddammit.

She lunged again, diving down for her bag of food, but I grabbed her by the collar, scowling down at her.

“You must be high if you think you’re going anywhere,” I said.

She shoved me, her glasses somewhere on the floor as Alex climbed to her feet.

“Didn’t you ever wonder what Damon and I were doing together that night you found us at the school?”

My eyes twitched, and she chuckled to herself.

“You don’t even want to know what really happened the day you got arrested, either, do you?”

“I know what happened,” I growled.

She laughed again, but her eyes fell, and I saw tears pooling. “Yes. Everything except my side of the story, and maybe you would’ve done things differently and you would still hate me for what I did even if you knew the whole story, but maybe you’d let me say words that need to be said, but you won’t. You know why?”

I heard movement upstairs, and I knew we needed to hide. Right now.

“Because you don’t want to deal with things,” she whispered. “Damon knew it. I knew it. Everyone knew it. You didn’t have problems, because you didn’t want problems. You let the current carry you and c’est la vie.”

My fists tightened around her shirt.

“You were the child everyone protected,” she went on. “Damon said you were untainted by anything bad, and that’s what made you special to us. That quality needed to be preserved.”

They talked about me? Together? Behind my back?

“You never thought it was odd?” she pressed. “Damon and I had hated each other. What were we doing that night? How come I was the only person to know about his sister?”

I assumed she was talking about Banks and not Rika. None of us found out about Banks until more than a year after we’d gotten out of prison.

Emmy knew about her in high school?

She held my eyes, the tears in them shaking. “Why did you never ask these questions?”

“Because I—”

“Because you didn’t want to know the answers,” she told me, cutting me off. “If you didn’t know what was going on, then you didn’t have to deal with it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, right,” she fired back. “I forgot you had a method of dealing with your problems, after all, unlike the rest of us weaklings.”

I flared my eyes. What the fuck?

How the hell did she know about me using? Goddammit.

Her gaze faltered, and I could tell she saw the look on my face and maybe thought she shouldn’t have said that, but I shoved her away, every muscle on fire with fight.

Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the stairs. “Just shut up, Emory,” she gritted out through her teeth. “Everyone is hurting. It’s not all about you. We have to pull together.”

She yanked her arm free and backed up toward the door, her eyes darting between us.

“You should go hide,” she told Alex. “And I hope you get home safe.”

She was leaving. She was actually walking out of here, to her death, because her pride took up so much room in her head that there was no space for common sense.

She’d been fine earlier. Or somewhat fine.

She couldn’t stay here with both of us. She was leaving me.

“And when the crew arrives?” Alex whisper-yelled. “We’re not leaving this island without you, and you’re only going to delay our getaway as everyone scours the terrain for your dead body, dumbass!”

“He got sent here,” Emmy argued. “It’s his fault any of us are here now.”

She spun around, grabbed her bag, and clutched the door handle. Alex rushed over and yanked her wrist away.

Emmy twisted around and shoved Alex, sending her body flying backward. She stumbled, spinning around, and landed on her hands and knees…

Right at Aydin’s feet.

My lungs emptied, my gaze rising to meet his face.

Oh, shit.

He stood between the stairs and the dining room. Taylor entered behind him as Rory and Micah stood at the railing at the top of the stairs.

I steeled my spine as everyone took in our newest addition, but my gut knotted all the same. He might let me have one, but not both. I couldn’t protect them both.

Alex remained frozen for a moment, staring at his shoes, but then slowly, she lifted her head and looked up at him.

He looked down at her, freshly dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and no tie. I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until my lungs started tightening.

His jaw flexed, and his eyes grew hard. “Micah?” he called. “Rory?”

“Yeah,” Micah answered from above.

Aydin continued to gaze down at Alex as he said, “I want the house and grounds searched. Now.”

The two stood there for a moment, and then they splintered off, searching the second floor first.

It was easy to dismiss Emmy’s arrival as a lone fluke—or a stroke of luck for some of them—but Alex here, too, meant it wasn’t an accident. We were being infiltrated, and Aydin still liked to behave as if we were here of our free will and this house was his domain.

Bending down, he gently lifted Alex up, staring into her eyes and wiping away the blood under her nose with his thumb.

She hesitated for a moment, but then…she jerked away, stepping back.

He held up his hand, staring at the blood dripping off his thumb.

Then he looked at her again and slid it over his tongue, licking it off his finger.

“Alex,” he said, swallowing. “Palmer.”

“You know each other?” I asked.

How the hell did they know each other? I darted my eyes to Alex, but she just stood there, her shoulders squared and her mouth shut.

“How many more are here?” he asked her. “And where are they?”

I watched them, hating how calm he seemed, because he always looked like he was expecting anything that came along and already had an agenda in place.

It was the one thing I’d learned from him. The appearance of control was just as powerful. Make a decision and act like that was the plan all along.

When she didn’t answer him, he lowered his chin and shot her a small smirk. “You didn’t do this on your own,” he said. “How did you replace this place?”

Without waiting for an answer, he drifted past her toward Emmy, who remained by the front door.

He tilted her face up to look at the bruise forming on her cheek. “Looks like you found your noise in the walls,” he said.

She didn’t respond, but she let him turn her face side to side to inspect the damage.

I wanted to remove his head.

“How do you know I wasn’t brought here against my will like Emory?” Alex asked.

But Aydin ignored her, asking Emmy, “Why are you fighting?” He shot me a glance. “Over him?”

Again, Em kept her mouth shut, neither confirming nor denying.

“Forced to make a choice, he won’t choose you,” he told her. “You’ll have to look out for yourself. Get used to it.”

“There’s nothing I’m more used to,” she said in a quiet but firm tone.

He winked at her, signaling his approval of her response.

I stared at them. What the hell was he doing? Were they fucking bonding or some shit?

He dropped his arms and looked down at her feet, seeing the bag of food on the floor. He met her eyes for a moment before grabbing the black coat off the stand by the door and draping it around her.

“Taylor?” he said.

The other guy stepped up a couple more feet. “Yeah?”

“Hold Will,” Aydin told him.

I tensed. What?

Before I could spin around, Taylor grabbed me, sliding his arms around mine from behind and locking his hold against my chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled.

Aydin opened the front door, looking at Emory before he dipped down, picked up her bag of food, and handed it to her.

She paused, her gaze shifting between him and me as I struggled. “You’re letting me leave?” she asked. “After all of this?”

I threw Taylor off, shoving him and hearing him tumble against the candelabras.

I shot forward.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Aydin told her. “But you can.”

She looked over at me, and I stopped, gauging my choices. If she ran, Alex was right. We’d just be delayed, trying to replace her and make sure she didn’t wind up dead, and I wasn’t even sure why I cared anymore.

Goddamn them. Michael and Kai and Damon and all of them. If they weren’t coming, I wouldn’t be so pressed for time right now. I wasn’t ready to leave yet.

Of course, they just needed to swoop in and save me.

Emmy stared at me—maybe waiting to see if I stopped her, or hoping I would—and I didn’t want this confrontation with Aydin. Not yet.

Because she wasn’t leaving, even if I had to fight them all and suffer every bone in my body breaking.

Something crossed her eyes, and she looked like she did that morning in the movie theater so long ago. Like she wanted to melt into my arms.

Like she didn’t really want to go, because she wanted to stay with me.

But before I could take her hand, slam the door, and figure out how I was going to fight Aydin and Taylor for both of these women, he leaned into her ear and appeared to whisper something as she held my eyes.

She listened as his jaw moved, and three seconds stretched into ten, and then finally…she dropped her gaze as if processing and nodded to him.

He closed the door, removed her jacket, hanging it up, and took the food bag from her before flashing me a look bearing the ghost of a smile.

I straightened.

Walking past me, he left the room, Taylor following, and I stood there glaring as Emory remained silent.

She was running from me. She fought Alex in order to leave.

And now she was staying?

Because he had more control over her than I did.

“Get your shit,” I told Alex, my gaze never leaving Em. “You’re bunking with me.”

“Will—”

“Now!” I barked as Alex protested.

Fuck it. She could grab her stuff anytime. Taking her hand, I pulled her up the stairs, leaving Emory in the foyer as I disappeared down the hallway, through the last door, and up the stairs to the third floor.

Emory was safe. She was under his protection now.

I slammed my hand into a wall as we traipsed down the hallway.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” Alex said, pulling her hand out of mine, “but when we leave, she’s coming with us. You can sort your shit out back in civilization. When I run, you and her are both coming.”

I locked my door and turned on the lights, debating about grabbing my laptop and having my contact intercept Michael and the crew and stop them. But they needed to come now in order to take Emory and Alex to safety.

“When are they arriving?” I asked.

“Any day now.”

I pulled on a shirt and walked over to the window, closing the curtains.

“You want to go home, don’t you?” Alex asked.

I shot her a look.

“Will…”

I paced the room, feeling like I was about to jump out of my skin.

“Your parents…” she said, her voice softening. “The way you always talked about them. They love you. Given everything, they adore you.” She approached me. “Why are you still here? Would they really have kept you away so long? It doesn’t make any sense.”

I should tell her. I just wasn’t sure I wasn’t going to fail, and I needed to do this on my own. I’d put in too much time and work.

I had to go home ten times the man. I needed to see this through.

She took my chin and tipped it toward her, stopping me. “Damon, Winter, Michael, Rika, Misha, Kai, Banks…” she said their names as if I’d forgotten them. “You belong home. Don’t you want to leave?”

Of course, I did.

Why would she think I didn’t want to leave?

• • •

Kai and Banks.

Winter and Damon.

Michael…

I knew what I needed to do when I came here, but Alex’s words kept drifting through my head—especially now. Especially when faced with the decision I was going to have to make sooner than I thought.

Maybe I was scared.

Maybe…just maybe a small part of me didn’t want to ever leave here. There were no drugs here. No women. I’d stayed away from the alcohol fairly easily. I didn’t have to prove my worth with a career, plans, or relationships.

I just had to survive. There were no opportunities to face, so nothing to screw up.

We were all in the same boat.

And maybe I liked that. With sobriety came clarity, and I’d had time to think about my past, and I was embarrassed. I wanted everyone to trust me. To depend on me.

But that meant risking failure, and for a few minutes here and there I was content to just stay here forever.

Believe it or not, it was easier.

I headed back up the stairs to my room, carrying a bowl of stew for Alex. Micah had saved it for me, but not enough for Alex, and I wasn’t about to beg Aydin for extra food. She told me she had some stuff in the tunnels, but I’d let her eat her first solid meal in days and just grab one of her granola bars for myself.

I stepped up into my room, hearing water splash on the other side of the privacy screen. I halted and watched her shadow through the cream-colored fabric.

She stood in the tub, bending over and washing. Slowly, I set the bowl down on the table, my stomach sinking as I watched her.

Alex was always easy to disappear into. I didn’t have to talk or put up a front. I didn’t have to seduce her or pretend.

She was my port in the storm and I was hers.

I watched her form move as she washed her legs and arms. Her hand drifted up the back of her neck, the water from the cloth dripping back into the tub.

She was the only person I’d ever felt completely safe with. The only person I never feared disappointing because the only thing she expected of me was to be there.

Why couldn’t I love her? She got along with my friends. She made me laugh, and her presence was always a comfort. Always.

She fit in my life.

Watching her, I balled my fists, almost convinced I should do it. I should go and lift her into my arms and take her to bed and sink inside of her and…

I shook my head, sighing.

I couldn’t.

Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the girl who made me want to be better. More.

I saw Emmy Scott.

Alex was like Damon. They loved me. They indulged my dark side.

They were too forgiving and too enabling.

They kept me from being lonely, but Emory taught me that not everything I wanted was going to come easy. That there were things I was going to have to fight for and there was pain in the world that my shallow lifestyle in high school kept me ignorant of.

She made me feel like a man.

Even though her words were sharp and the battle she constantly fought in her heart felt like a knife in my own, her eyes on me made me feel strong.

Her arms around me made me want to take on anything.

When I closed my eyes, I saw a girl with glasses too big for her face, and I heard the sweetest, most timid voice asking me if I still wanted to hold her.

I could still feel her cradled in my arms.

Leaving the stew, I pressed on the wooden panel on the wall Alex had shown me earlier and dove into the hidden passageway, sliding the panel closed again behind me.

The guys were still up, spread out and doing their various things, but I hadn’t seen Emory when I went to collect food.

Alex said she left her duffle bag in the tunnel outside of Emory’s room, and even though I told myself I was just getting a granola bar and some water, I wanted to make sure she was in her own damn bed.

With the door secured.

She’d be brought back to Thunder Bay safe and sound to face the music.

I found my way through the tunnels, heading to the east wing where I knew Emory’s room sat, eventually spotting the black bag on the floor in the tiny bit of light shining through the peep holes.

All this time, these tunnels were here. It was inconceivable that Aydin didn’t know.

But Alex had been skulking around the house for days undetected, so…

I left the bag on the floor, hearing Emmy’s moans before I even found the peep hole to her room.

My pulse skipped, and I forgot about the bag, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold into a pitch-black bedroom. I immediately noticed her lying in bed underneath the covers.

Her breathing shook, raspy and shallow, and she twisted under the sheets, letting out a whimper. I flashed my gaze to the door, seeing the chair propped under the handle, and then I looked back to the bed, inching forward.

She clenched the sheet in her fist, and I squatted next to the bed, gazing at her back like I did that night after I brought her home from the Cove and put her to bed. She wore a tank top and some purple lace panties I assumed she got from Alex. The sheet hung below her waist as her chest rose and fell too fast.

She let out a small cry, and I leaned over the bed, planting my hand on the pillow above her.

Her eye had bruised, and I let my gaze fall down her body, seeing more nicks and scrapes on her arms that hadn’t been there before.

The tumble in the woods, the small fire, the fight with Taylor, and the fight with Alex… I couldn’t help it. I ran my hand over her hair, smoothing it away from her face as her nightmare played out and her body shook.

I’d loved Emory since the moment I laid eyes on her when I was fourteen.

I could still see her—sitting on her bike outside the chain-link fence surrounding the school parking lot as she watched my friends and me on our skateboards that summer.

From that moment on, it seemed I was always aware of her, and everything I did, I did it with it in mind that she was watching.

Every joke in class. Every strut into the lunchroom. Every new haircut and every new pair of jeans.

Even the Raptor. My first thought when my parents bought it was how she’d look in it.

This stupid fantasy of her running to my truck after school, smiling and skipping at my side, unable to keep her hands off me because I was her boyfriend and I always took my girl home from school.

I hated that she was alone. She was always alone, and she shouldn’t have been, because she should’ve been with me.

But the older she got, the angrier she got, and the more desperate I got in trying to forget her, and I just needed this to be over.

Nothing got better with her. It just decayed.

She was never going to lie in my arms in a bed that belonged to both of us.

“I love you, Will,” she said in a quiet voice.

I froze, my hand paused on her temple as I stared down at her.

What?

My legs nearly gave out from under me, and I gaped at her, pinching my eyebrows together and trying to see if her eyes were open or if she was still sleeping, but…

I knew she was awake. Her breathing had calmed, and her body had relaxed.

“Do you remember the night you snuck into my room?” she asked, still facing away from me. “When you’d had it with me and tried to walk out on me?”

EverNight. The night I met her grandmother for the first time.

She sniffled. “I warned you I wasn’t a happy person, and there were so many reasons I didn’t want to let you in, but…” She trailed, trying to replace her words. “The only time I ever loved my life was when I was with you.”

My hand still lingered on her brow, unmoving.

Now? She was telling me this now?

“I was always your Em,” she whispered. “No matter what I said or what I did or all the ways I let life win over the years… That night, I knew. I was in love with you.”

The backs of my eyes stung, and I clenched my teeth.

“You can leave, and I’ll survive. I always do,” she told me. “I just wanted you to know that.”

And just like that again, I couldn’t remember why she was bad for me, and I just wanted her where she was supposed to be.

With me.

All the hate and anger and loss melted away, and I wanted to crawl in behind her and hold her the rest of the night, but I knew my eyes would be open in the morning and the light would hurt.

Everything would hurt.

I clenched my fist, just wanting to stay, but I couldn’t do this anymore.

I was clean of all vices, except one, and I needed to shake her. I needed to shake her, so I could go home.

I left, too much pride to disappear into the wall again. I opened the door and walked out, closing it behind me and leaving her in the dark.

I wanted to know what he said to her—what he whispered in her ear by the front door—when I went in there, but I couldn’t stay another second, or I almost wouldn’t care about anything but her for the rest of the night.

She loved me.

She loved me.

The world swayed in front of me.

But it was just another example of how everyone did what they wanted to me because they thought I couldn’t stay mad.

I mean, Damon almost killed me. Brutally and so badly, I could barely step foot in any body of water that wasn’t a bathtub, and it didn’t take much for me to forgive him.

I wasn’t giving anyone else easy chances.

“Will,” Aydin called as I passed his room.

I stopped, tensing.

I didn’t want to talk to him right now, because whatever shit came out of his mouth would just mess with my head more. God, I wanted a cigarette. Hopefully Winter hadn’t broken Damon of that completely yet, or I’d have to start buying my own packs when I got home.

Micah swiped the straight razor up Aydin’s throat as he sat back in his chair, leaning his head back.

Walking in, I held out my hand, taking the razor. Micah hesitated only a moment and then handed it to me, walking out.

Standing behind Aydin, I picked up where Micah had left off, shaving the next stroke. I gave him the better shave, so he preferred me to do it.

“Do you think you’d be in charge?” Aydin asked. “If I weren’t here?”

I tightened my fist around the handle, sliding up his neck again. One quick stroke right now, and I would be in charge.

He knew that.

He also thought he was brave, letting me shave him when he knew how easy it would be for me to end him right now in order to protect Emmy and Alex.

“I’m jealous your friends sent someone for you.” He chuckled, looking up at me. “I think my people forgot about me.”

“Find people who don’t.”

I glided the blade up over his jaw, feeling the heat of his gaze.

“I did,” he said.

Us? We’re not his people. Not yet, anyway.

“Demanding obedience through intimidation doesn’t encourage loyalty,” I told him. “Only earning it can.”

He fell silent, watching me as I shaved against the grain of his cheek and chin. He knew what the hell I meant. Micah, Rory, and Taylor didn’t respect him. They were afraid of him.

“I know,” he finally replied. “You couldn’t get her to stay in the house. I did, and I didn’t have to raise a hand to do it.” He gazed up at me. “I didn’t even have to raise my voice. That’s loyalty.”

My gaze twitched.

“You have her heart, but I’m in her head now,” he taunted. “With a woman like Emory Scott, which do you think she’ll listen to?

I didn’t even have to think about that answer twice. My hand shook as I cleaned his upper lip.

“When you make your escape, do you think Emmy will run with you and your whore?” he asked.

I shot up straight, the blade clasped in my hand as I glared down at him.

She’s not staying here with you.

“I think when I make my escape,” I told him, “I’m taking a lot more than those girls.”

He laughed, pulling off the towel around his neck and wiping his face clean. “She is stunning,” he said. “I liked it when she grabbed your throat today. Many men don’t even know how much they’d like being dominated. But it’s such a turn on. She fucked you good. I really think she’s come alive here.”

I locked my jaw, using every ounce of restraint to keep my temper in check.

He’d seen us in the greenhouse. He’d watched her ride me.

I dropped the blade and walked out of the room, every muscle in my body on fire.

He didn’t get to have her.

I charged back to her room, threw open the door, and walked over to her bed as she shot up and looked at me in the light streaming in from the hallway.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

But I didn’t say a damn word.

I grabbed her glasses off the nightstand, slid my arms under her, sheets and all, and swept her up into my arms, taking her to my room with Alex and me.

There was no fucking way I was taking my eyes off her tonight.

She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, her eyes on me the entire way up to the third floor and to my bed.

God, who the hell brought her here? She was ruining all my plans.