Nightfall

by Douglas, Penelope

  “What’s he doing?” Damon said more to himself, tossing his cigarette out the window.

  Martin Scott walked a girl to his cruiser, put her in the back, and climbed in the front, starting the car. We’d followed him from the station when he started his shift, and he took no time at all stopping the car full of teens that was speeding through the village.

  “That’s River Layton,” I said, recognizing the sophomore.

  She was only sixteen. What the hell was he doing?

  Leaving the other guy and girl in their car, he pulled away from the curb and drove off with the minor, but instead of taking a left toward the station or a right toward the hills where she lived near me, he pulled an abrupt one-eighty and took the road toward the coast and Falcon’s Well.

  “Follow him,” I said.

  Damon shifted into gear and backed out of the parking lot, charging after him down the road.

  It was after ten, and while school was out for the summer, the streets weren’t too busy. All the parties were either happening on the beach, on Mommy and Daddy’s boat, or in backyards with pools this time of year.

  Damon hung back, far enough to be inconspicuous, but not too far that we couldn’t see his taillights.

  I dug into the duffle bag, tossing Kai his silver paintball mask, pulling out Damon’s black one and handing it to him, and leaving Michael’s red one in the bag as I pulled my white one with a red stripe on.

  The brake lights in the distance lit up, and we watched as he turned into the warehouse. I didn’t think there was anything going on there tonight. Why the hell was he taking the kid there?

  Hanging back, Damon pulled the SUV onto the side of the road and shut off the engine as we all hopped out and pulled up the hoods of our black hoodies. It was too fucking hot for sweatshirts, but that was the routine.

  The hoods and masks kept us covered—and hopefully—unrecognizable in video footage. Everyone knew who was who behind the masks, but they couldn’t prove it.

  Jogging into the brush and through the trees, we headed toward the warehouse we’d been to a hundred times, knowing the road in didn’t go any farther than the old, abandoned factory.

  Sweat already covered my back, and I couldn’t see anything else outside of this moment.

  It was his fault. It was all his fault, because even if it wasn’t, it felt good to finally have someone to blame and give me hope that it wasn’t me. That she ended it before it even began because of him and not because she didn’t love me.

  In any case, he’d fucking hurt her, and now that she was out from under him, I was let off my leash.

  At the very least, after tonight, he’d never touch her again.

  Stopping at the tree line and looking over the gravel parking lot to the old shoe factory with the ruins of its dark and dilapidated walls looming beyond, we watched as he turned off the car and remained in his seat with her in the back.

  He moved his head, nodding here and there or cocking it as he talked, but she didn’t move an inch.

  Finally, he opened the door to his cruiser and walked to the back door, opening it and climbing in beside her.

  My lungs emptied.

  And I almost smiled, any doubt or guilt I might’ve felt now long gone.

  His face was going to be worse than ground beef by the time we were done with him.

  “He doesn’t have Emmy to push around anymore,” Kai said, and I could hear the anger growing in his voice as he pulled on his mask.

  I nodded, glad he was now on board. I did need him.

  “Wanna bet my father is protecting him, too?” Damon told us, pulling on his. “So much in fucking common.”

  “Let’s change his life forever.” I started off, charging for the car and curling my fists as the guys flanked me.

  I wished Michael were here—we were better as a unit—but we’d just have to fill him in when he got back from his basketball clinic in Atlanta.

  “Don’t let them hear your voices,” I said, taking out my knife. “Whisper.”

  I tossed it to Kai who quickly unsheathed it, stabbed a tire, the air pouring out, and Damon and I ripped open each of the back doors.

  River screamed as he grabbed her out of the car, and I shot out my fist, growling as I popped that scumbag in the fucking face.

  I pulled him out of the car as he coughed and sputtered, the blood pouring into his mouth from his nose.

  “Get home,” Damon ordered her.

  Her worried gaze darted between us, her face already wet with tears from whatever Scott was trying to do to her in there.

  But I could guess. You’re a minor. I’ll take you home where you belong, but on second thought, I won’t bring you in or call your parents about the drugs and alcohol I found in your car if you just come here next to me for a minute and don’t tell anyone.

  Jesus Christ.

  Diving down, I hit him again.

  And again and again before rising up and kicking him in the back of the head.

  Motherfucker. That motherfucker.

  He wanted to hurt River like he hurt his sister—rough her up, make her cry…

  Or worse.

  And God help me, if he did anything like that to Emmy, I wouldn’t hesitate. He’d be dead.

  River ran off, back toward the highway, as Kai rounded the car, stabbing the rest of the tires. I whipped open the front door, kicking the radio and ripping it off its wires, while Damon tore off the dash cam, dropping it to the ground and stomping it with his foot.

  Chances were the cop already turned that shit off when he parked with the girl here, but I didn’t want him being able to call for help, either.

  I reached into my hoodie pocket, took out the cell phone and tossed it over the roof of the car to Damon before reaching back in and pulling out a thick cut of rope.

  I walked over, planted my foot on his back, and pushed him back down the ground.

  “Don’t look for us when this is over,” I whispered to disguise my voice. “And don’t you ever touch any woman again. Not River Layton. Not Emory. Not anyone.” I leaned down, wrapping the rope around his neck. “If we find out you did, we won’t let you walk away next time.”

  He gasped and grunted, and I rolled him over, his eyes sharpening as he met mine through my mask

  Thrashing, he rolled away and tried to scramble to his feet, but in a moment, we were all on him, kicking him and launching fists.

  I jerked my head at Kai, and we all picked Scott up, took him into the warehouse, and tied his wrists, securing them above his head to a steel beam.

  We all backed away, the guys probably waiting to let me have first go as Damon took out the phone and started filming.

  I paused. It was stupid to document this, but…

  I licked my lips, seething and still tasting the bourbon I’d had in the car.

  I wanted to watch it. To relive it. To see him suffer over and over again.

  “Look at me,” I whispered.

  He breathed hard, and I walked over and took off his duty belt, dropping it to the ground.

  “Look at me,” I growled again, low.

  Slowly, he raised his eyes and met mine through my mask. The corners of his gaze crinkled in recognition.

  And then…the asshole smiled.

  “You think it’s my fault?” he asked in a quiet voice between us. “That she rejected you?”

  I tightened my fists.

  And then he laughed, despite how his teeth glistened with his own blood. “I would’ve been happy,” he told me. “Even better if she would’ve gotten pregnant. Having an inside to all that money, power, and connection? Priceless. She would’ve finally been useful.”

  I stayed frozen, barely breathing.

  He spit, spattering blood from his mouth all over me.

  But I didn’t even blink.

  “She knew you were a loser,” he said. “You’d just be the drunk womanizer you are now, not fit for her life.”

  My blood boiled under my skin.

&n
bsp; He knew who we were, but I didn’t care. The masks and whispering were for the camera, not him.

  Was he right? He wasn’t right. She didn’t say it, but I knew she loved me. I felt it.

  It was him. He made her forget about me. He made her scared.

  “And this is just a reminder,” he continued, “that she’s long gone and fine without you, but you’ll never be more than this. You’ll never be enough.”

  I shook my head, my eyes burning.

  Kai cleared his throat behind me. “We can’t stay here forever, Will,” he whispered. “Let’s do this.”

  But Martin Scott just smiled, seeing what he was doing to me.

  “She never looked at you again,” he said. “Did she?”

  I stopped breathing.

  “She’s never called. Even since she graduated and got free, right?”

  How did he know that?

  She could’ve called me. There was no reason not to once he was out of her life.

  He laughed again. “You’ll never be enough.”

  I swung my fist back, gritted my teeth together, and growled as I punched him across the face.

  Fuck you.

  A sob escaped, but I covered it up quickly.

  Motherfucker.

  I hit him again, hitting and hitting until long after he’d stopped laughing and my knuckles ached like they were on fire.

  Tears welled and poured, and the whole world tipped on its side as I brought my fist down again and again.

  Fuck you. Fuck you.

  Kai came in, threatening him not to go near a minor again, and then I came back pounding, kicking, and punching some more until eventually my hands dripped with his and my blood, and I could do nothing else but laugh.

  Until he passed out and they had to pull me off him.

  We dumped his body on the side of the road, peeled out of the area in Damon’s SUV, and used a burner phone to call the police to tell them where to find him.

  And I didn’t care if it brought her back or not. He deserved it.

  If he had any sense, he’d keep his mouth shut, too. He knew we knew he’d had River Layton out there.

  Witnesses.

  If she talked, she could be a liar.

  But not all four of us.

  Damon dropped Kai at home and then me.

  “Wanna go drinking?” he asked.

  I shook my head. I had better stuff in my room, but he wouldn’t be down for that.

  “See you tomorrow.” I shut the car door, and he drove off as I made my way up the steps of my house, staring down at the blood all over my hands.

  I didn’t want to go inside. I looked up at my house—gray stone with three floors, a wine cellar, and a basketball court in the back.

  I was a lucky boy.

  And a fucking loser.

  He was right, and nothing felt better.

  I turned around and walked, leaving my truck and clutching the cell phone in my pocket.

  I had no desire to ever watch it again.

  I walked down my driveway and headed down the road, back toward the village in the black night as I took out the phone to delete the video. I wanted it gone.

  I wanted to erase everything about me, because I hated me as much as she did.

  “Hey, man!” someone called.

  I looked up, closing the phone before I could finish and stuffing it into my pocket.

  Bryce rolled up, peering at me through the open window. He had a girl in the car, and I leaned down, forcing a smile and stuffing my bloody hands into my pocket.

  He studied me, sensing something. “You need a ride?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I told him. “Thanks, though.”

  He nodded slowly, still unsure. “O…okay.”

  He sped off, and I pulled out my hands, sick of this feeling inside me.

  Scott was right. Nearly two years, and I was still pining while she’d been stone. Not a look, a hint, or a whisper from her.

  She thought I was nothing.

  I walked and walked, passing the village and the gazebo I’d heard she’d abandoned the last time I was home at Christmas.

  I didn’t want to see her and anything of hers. I just wanted the pain to go away.

  Before I knew it, I was walking through Damon’s house, up the stairs where the maid guided me, and up to the third floor where I knocked.

  I faintly heard whispers and shuffling, and then he was there. In his lounge pants, freshly showered and no shirt.

  His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Here to see my coffin?” he joked.

  I looked behind him, seeing the bed. “It looks comfortable.”

  His eyes turned warm, but then he dropped them, looking hesitant.

  Tears pooled in my eyes. “I’m fucked up,” I choked out.

  “I know.” He nodded. “But if you come in here, I’m not fixing you.”

  He was just as fucked up. Tomorrow wouldn’t be any brighter for either of us.

  “Just fix it for tonight,” I whispered.

  Dive and destroy and show me how to get lost. Just for tonight.

  He moved to the side, inviting me in, and I closed the door behind me.

  An obnoxious junkie.

  At least Sid could play a guitar.

  Emory

  Present

  I arched my back as Will gripped my hip and thrust against me, his dick sliding inside.

  He filled me so tightly, stretching hot and thick, I whimpered, “Ah.”

  Twisting my head, he covered my mouth with his as the steam filled the shower and he yanked my hips back again and again, fucking me harder and harder without breaking the kiss.

  I licked his tongue and took over, backing up into it as I guided his hand down between my legs.

  He rubbed my clit, slow but steady, in circles. “I don’t love you,” he whispered in my ear before biting my lobe.

  “I know.”

  He knocked my hand off his, slamming mine to the wall and returning his to my pussy, thrusting harder and bottoming out, going so deep.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, moaning.

  A hand took mine, and I closed my fingers around Alex’s slender ones.

  “Say you’re sorry to me,” Will breathed out.

  “I did.”

  He pulled out, spun me around, and I let go of Alex’s hand as he lifted me up.

  “Say it,” he demanded.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he slipped back inside. “What happens then?” I ask. “Huh?”

  I trailed kisses over his face and then buried my lips in his neck as I hugged him to me.

  “Once you get what you want, you’ll stop,” I told him, “and I don’t want you to stop.”

  His hips moved as he gripped my ass in both hands, and I sucked the water off his skin, nibbling and dragging his skin out with my teeth.

  He groaned.

  “Don’t stop,” I panted. “I don’t love you anymore. You’re bad news and always have been.”

  “But don’t stop, huh?” he chuckled. “The class reunion is next year, and I’m going to tell everyone what you really like to do when your nose isn’t buried in a book. I’m going to tell them that you like me and how you let me have some fun when no one was looking.”

  I fell back against the wall, turning my head, my forehead meeting Alex’s as I moaned. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I got off on how much he wanted me.

  Aydin pressed Alex against the wall next to me, and while she faced me, he looked down at her, almost frozen except for his hand that slipped underneath her shirt so slowly. She breathed shallow, her lips close to mine, and in the blink of an eye, he’d torn off her bra and dropped the black fabric onto the shower floor, the water slowly drenching her shirt.

  He was why she was here. This was why she was the one who came for Will, instead of Michael.

  It was about Aydin. She was his artist, and she’d found out he was here when she was looking for Will.

  Gliding his hand over her shirt, h
e moved up her stomach and between her breasts as the shirt plastered her skin, revealing the dark circles of her nipples through the linen.

  She wouldn’t look at him, and I pressed my lips to her forehead, trying to soothe her. It was almost like she was scared, and if there was anything I knew about Alex Palmer it was that not much scared her.

  I turned back to Will, tightening my hold as I watched him tip his head back and start to lose it.

  “I’m going to slip,” I gasped.

  He hefted me back up. “I got you.”

  I sank my mouth into his, my wet hair sticking to my face and neck, and I wished I was back in that wrestling room with him and I wouldn’t have been so timid. I would’ve loved him and stayed there with him all night if I could do it over again.

  “Kiss her on the mouth,” I heard Aydin say.

  I looked over to see Alex staring up at him. “I want to kiss you on the mouth.”

  He shook his head, his expression calm, but his breathing ragged.

  He licked his lips. “Touch her on the cunt,” he whispered. “Like that night I watched you on the screen. Do it.”

  He grazed his hand over her breast through her shirt, barely touching, and her mouth fell open, and I didn’t think she was breathing.

  “Touch her,” he begged, hovering over her lips. “Fuck her for me in the bed.”

  She swallowed. “No,” she whispered. “I do what I want, when I want, and nothing for your pleasure.”

  “Nothing?” he asked, touching her lips with his fingers. “For him but not for me?”

  She glared up at Aydin. “I feel safe with him. I feel like a whore with you.”

  His jaw flexed, and his fingers curled over her breast like a claw. Her nipples hardened, poking through the fabric like bullets.

  Will’s head collapsed into my neck, breathing hard and groaning, and I could tell he was close.

  But my blood rushed hot, my orgasm crested, and I was already there. I whimpered, squeezing my pussy around him and holding on for every thrust as my body bobbed up and down, moaning loud and not caring who heard.

  Part of me hated Alex. She was gorgeous, tough, and everything Aydin said she was in the bedroom. She was more Will’s friend than I ever was, and the hardest part was that she was stunning in every way.