Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,102

I was gone.

Closing the computer and storing it, I pulled on some sweat pants and buttoned them up before jogging down the stairs. I yanked the steel bar away and threw open my bedroom door.

Emory

Nine Years Ago

I walked into the school, the hallways dim and the music pounding from the gym. Prom was always held in Meridian City, at an expensive banquet hall or hotel.

Homecoming stayed at home.

The frilly pink, strapless dress I’d found in The Carfax Room brushed against my knees, cool air caressing my bare shoulders and back. My long brown hair, parted in the middle, draped around me and in my face, and I left the natural kink wild and shiny. I’d found some theater makeup in the room and used the mascara and eyeliner. Lipstick tinted my mouth.

Nothing covered the dried blood that had spilled down my temple, the blue and purple bruising around my eye, or the cut on my lip. My bare arms wore his handprints, no longer aching so much with the ibuprofen I’d taken.

I could hide in plain sight tonight because it was almost Halloween, the one time of year everyone could bring what was inside outside.

Opening the door to the gymnasium, I stepped inside, the hair on my arms instantly rising. Music blared, blue and pink lights swirling around the darkened room as decorations and balloons adorned every table.

A few dozen couples moved on the dance floor, and I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as I gazed around the room.

Was he here?

The dance had begun a while ago, the ticket takers and photographers having already abandoned their posts near the door, but I spotted a few sets of eyes turn toward me as I entered the room. Most people wore costumes, while others wore simple masks with their cocktail dresses and suits.

They stared, some leaning in and whispering to each other, and it might’ve been because I was here or because of how I looked, but I didn’t care.

My feet moved on autopilot, taking me farther into the room as I stepped in my heels through the noise, the dancing, and the looks.

Normally, I’d run. I’d escape into my phone or a book or another room. Normally, I’d—

But just then…he was there.

And I stopped.

He leaned against the wall, surrounded by his friends, away from the crowd and looking amazing in a black suit with a white shirt and no tie.

He hadn’t seen me yet, and I waited, suddenly paralyzed.

I wanted my phone or a handbag or something to hold. Something to not feel so alone and vulnerable, but I’d left my school bag with my wallet in Martin’s police car, as well as my glasses which were probably lying on the floor somewhere. My phone was at the cathedral, turned off.

I walked toward him, his scent and arms and smile beckoning me like food, because I was dry and hungry and empty.

I hated home. I didn’t love the gazebo anymore. I was tired of school and tired of never seeing anything that didn’t drain me, no matter which way I turned.

I wanted to see him. I wanted to feel his hand in mine.

Ignoring the whispers of others as I passed, I watched him talk and nod, one hand in his pants pocket and the other holding his keys like he was getting ready to leave.

I didn’t see a date anywhere.

He looked away from Kai, noticing me as he met my eyes, and stared, unblinking as he took in my appearance. The pink party dress, the blood and bruises… Nothing was funny about Reverie Cross’s demise, as there was nothing funny about mine.

Tonight I could be seen. Let them all see.

His friends turned and looked, following his gaze.

“Wanna dance?” I asked quietly, my heart beating so fast it made the words shaky.

I saw the guys shift out of the corner of my eyes, breathing out a laugh that didn’t really sound mean. Just surprised.

Will stared at me, and it took everything I had not to chew on my lip or squeeze my fists.

I’d gone too far. He might not be alone. I knew he’d probably have a date, and here I was, stalker girl. I was constantly messing with his head, sending him mixed signals, and yes, he pushed too hard and no means no, no matter how many times I’d changed my mind, but…

He and I both knew I wanted this. He just didn’t understand why I was holding back.

And maybe he was finally realizing that I wasn’t