Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,88

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.”

“You want her safe. She is safe.”

I thinned my eyes on him. She wasn’t, and even if she were, she was messing up plans and accelerating my timeline. I didn’t need the distraction.

“She thinks I arranged to bring her here,” I told him.

“And your pride hurts.”

Yes. Right now, she thought I was still obsessed and small-minded, every moment we spent together vivid and tantalizing in my memory.

I didn’t want her to know that was true. Ever.

I was supposed to be somebody by now. I was supposed to make her regret not wanting me, and this was humiliating. She shouldn’t be here.

“I’ll arrange it,” he told me.

I