Home > Nightfall(54)

Nightfall(54)
Author: Penelope Douglas

He started to carry me up the stairs to my bedroom, but the phone rang again.

That was three times he’d called.

I squirmed out of Will’s hold, running back down the stairs. “If I don’t answer, he could come home to check on me. He could find you here.”

He grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Then let him.” He glared down at me. “I don’t give a shit. He won’t keep me away from you, so the sooner he knows the score, the better.”

My naked body, except for my bottoms, seemed to scream, and even though it was dark, and he wouldn’t see much, he might still notice the bruises. I had to cover up.

“Let me go,” I gritted out, anxious.

But he didn’t. Pulling me in, he lifted me into his arms again and looked up into my eyes. “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.”

Sobs swelled in my chest, and I held his shoulders, wanting to just wrap my arms around him because he was probably right.

“Or you can come to Homecoming with me,” he said, giving me a choice. “Tomorrow night.”

Homecoming?

The phone rang again, but we just stared at each other, me in his arms and my legs dangling.

I couldn’t go to Homecoming. I didn’t have a dress. I didn’t dance. I didn’t want to be around his people.

Martin would never allow it.

People would just laugh.

I pushed against his hold, diving down to the floor for my cardigan as the phone rang and rang. I looked back up at him, covering myself with the sweater.

“No,” I said. “You can go now. I’m sorry I stopped you.”

He advanced on me, but I turned and ran, slipping on my sweater as I dashed into the kitchen for my phone.

I answered. “Hello?”

“What the hell were you doing?” Martin snapped. “I’ve called four times.”

I almost turned to see if Will was behind me, but my heart was beating so fast, I was afraid Martin would hear the shake in my voice.

“I’m sorry. I…” I stammered. “I fell asleep with my phone downstairs.”

“Of course, you did.” His tone was clipped. “We’re expecting wind tonight. Make sure the windows are closed, the garbage cans are stored, and the…”

But my mind trailed off as he barked in my ear the same orders I’d heard a hundred times.

I licked my lips, still tasting Will and feeling the emptiness grow and grow behind me as I heard the front door click shut.

I wanted to cry.

Martin eventually hung up, and I came back to the foyer, seeing that Will was gone.

I stood there for a minute, sick of the guilt and self-hate. I’d done it again. I was a bitter, condescending coward, and hopefully, he’d move on to someone like him. Happy and bubbly and…fun.

At least I wouldn’t be at Homecoming to see him enjoy someone else.

Taking myself upstairs, I checked on my grandma one more time and then entered my room, closing the door and plugging my phone into the charger.

Walking over to the window, I watched the candle flicker, debating for a moment to leave it alone.

But I didn’t believe in anything.

Least of all, Reverie Cross.

I blew out the candle, the room going dark.

Except for the two headlights that came into view, shining outside my window. I straightened, looking out to the curb and seeing a matte black car suddenly speed off, its tires peeling and screeching as it raced away.

I squinted, but I couldn’t see well without my glasses that were still downstairs where Will left them.

It wasn’t a truck—I don’t think. It wasn’t Will.

And then I saw it. The glimmer of gold coming from the tree outside.

It shook and jingled in the light breeze, the bronze chain draped over a branch that was empty before.

I inched closer. What the hell was that?

 

 

Will

 

Present

 

I jerked as Aydin grazed me with the scissors, the small blades slicing through the thread.

A cigarette hung from his mouth, and I pulled it out, taking a drag as I sat on the table in the kitchen and he stood next to me, removing the stitches at the top of my arm where it met my shoulder. Just a small cut from taking a tumble in the woods last week before Emmy arrived.

I stared off, watching her as he worked.

She was sly. I’d give her that. Spending years getting the shit kicked out of her had taught her how to hide.

Emmy moved around the kitchen, back in the black pants she’d arrived in, but wearing one of Rory’s white T-shirts as she fried up meat and added peppers, onions, and cheese.

She stole glances over at me every now and then, and I kept my gaze locked on her.

A piece of bread here, a wedge of cheese there. Some cheese cloth to wrap it up, as well as an orange and then some more bread.

I fought not to smile, admiring how she deflected attention from the hand stealing food, to the hand reaching up to grab a plate or snatch a fork out of a drawer.

Aydin hadn’t noticed, because he had Taylor watching her and Taylor was an idiot. He stood in the corner, under the dead clock, peeling the label off his water bottle and only glancing up at her every now and then.

But the glances lingered, drifting down her body as she reached to grab some utensil or bent over to pull out a pan from the cupboard.

Aydin was the only thing keeping that one on a leash. If Aydin weren’t here, I knew exactly what Taylor would try to do with her.

“Have you ever requested anything other than liquor and cigarettes?” I asked quietly, taking another puff before sticking the cigarette back into his mouth.

He inhaled one last time and then dropped the butt into his cup of coffee. “Yes.”

“Like what?”

He didn’t answer, and I shot him a look, seeing a smile playing on his lips. Somehow, he got a connection—someone to bring him contraband every month, and while he was a brutal fighter who would go to any length, the alcohol and tobacco were the only other means he had to control us.

Or them, at least. Micah and Rory might be with me, but we wouldn’t get far if I didn’t have Taylor or Aydin. I still needed one of them with me before I could leave.

This shouldn’t have taken so long. I just didn’t expect him to be so tough to crack. I had no idea where he was hiding his contraband, and after over a year, I had yet to find it.

Taylor walked behind Emmy at the stove, picking up a lock of her hair and smelling it. I clenched my jaw, watching her jerk her head around and move away.

“So, did you get it?” I continued, prodding Aydin. “The other thing you asked for?”

He finished cutting the stitches and picked up the tweezers, pulling the thread out of my skin. “Yes.”

“Then you can get her out,” I stated. “I want her gone.”

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