Kill Switch (Devil's Night, #3)

Her thighs were so warm, and my dick ached, thinking about how hot and wet she probably was right now.

But I simply tightened my grip on her, brushing her nose with mine and taunting her. “It’s comforting how it’s always the same,” I said. “How all you cunts turn into sluts once you’ve got a good dicking.”

She grew still, a slight tilt to her lips that looked like she was trying not to cry, but everything else was calm and stoic.

As if she finally understood… I was here to hurt.





Damon


Five Years Ago



I blew out smoke, staring at the back of Erika Fane’s head as we drove through the neighborhood, having just left the village. It had been a long day—and it would probably be an even longer night—and I was both intrigued and pissed Michael let her tag along for Devil’s Night tonight.

I’d been away at college, with my friends all at different schools, and it finally felt fucking good to be back where I was happiest, and now everyone had to guard themselves to not offend Michael’s pet project.

But then again, maybe a distraction—something to take my mind off Winter and what happened last night in the shower—was exactly what I’d needed.

Perspective.

And closing my eyes, shutting off my head, and just charging on into whatever shit behavior I could, would tear my gut to shreds, so I couldn’t feel her anymore.

So I could let her go before she found out.

Maybe years down the road, when I was out of college, and she was older and away from her parents…

No.

No, that wouldn’t happen, either.

She’d still need to know the truth. About who I was and what I did to her these past few years. I didn’t want her to ever know.

I was fucked. It had to end.

I just had to find a diversion. A nice, healthy, blonde diversion who looked a little like Winter Ashby and smelled just as good.

Rika sensed me staring and turned her eyes over her shoulder, meeting mine.

I stared back at her.

She had blue eyes. Just like Winter.

But unlike Winter, I could hate Rika and remind myself what women were for.

They were the same age, too. I wasn’t sure if they hung out anymore, but maybe I could pretend the little Winter-lookalike was actually Winter to drown out the real one in my head.

Rika tipped her chin up and turned back around, and I laughed under my breath, taking another drag of my cigarette.

I always made her nervous, and I kind of liked it. As if there were a bigger game at play that we’d eventually get to someday, but neither of us knew what it was.

I saw Michael watching me in the rearview mirror, and I did a shitty job of hiding my grin.

Hey, if he didn’t want anyone else noticing his little piece of ass, he shouldn’t have brought her along in the first place. It was one thing to have your fun. It was another to do it in front of us.

Tonight was ours. She wasn’t important enough to be here.

He pulled up in front of the Ashby house, outside the walls with two tall columns with lanterns on top and the gate closed. Hopefully that meant the parents were out, and she was alone.

Or, at least her father was out. The mother said something during the fight last night about having to catch a plane today.

And Arion was away from her college for a semester abroad, so Winter was the only other person in the house.

I climbed up from my seat, heading for Will’s door to hop out. “I won’t take long.”

“Sooooo confident,” Will teased. “Get a great angle for us, okay?”

He held up the group cell phone we used to record all our pranks, and I took it, remembering I had that shot of Winter on it from last night. If it recorded at all. I’d dropped the phone, but thankfully it hadn’t broken.

Stuffing it in my back pocket, I flung open the door and hopped out, pulling up my hood.

“Got protection?” Will asked.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I slammed the door shut, hearing his chuckle from inside, and scaled the tree outside the wall, making my way over it in seconds, because this was not the first time I’d done this.

Landing on my feet, I jogged across the lawn, seeing a few lights her father left on in the house, my gaze immediately locking on the windows of the ballroom and hearing the music from inside. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was in there.

I dug out the key she gave me and pulled off my sweatshirt, tossing it behind some bushes, because it was covered in smoke.

Heading around to the backdoor, I unlocked it as quietly as possible and pushed it open, slipping into the dark kitchen and instantly hearing the music playing as loud as she wanted, because no one was home.

I crept down the hallway and through the foyer, veering right, toward the open ballroom doors with the music growing louder and drifting up to the ceiling.

It had a haunting, sad vibe, and my heart started thumping harder even before I entered.

She twirled around the floor, her head and arms all playing a part as her feet moved, creeping with the song, like someone possessed or lost in a dream. My throat swelled as I inched off to the side, in the shadows, not taking my eyes off her.

The chorus chanted, the drums like a pulse, and I watched her hair fly, and the muscles in her legs flex through her tight, black leggings. Slits cut across the back of her long-sleeve pink shirt, her sports bra and skin visible in the moonlight streaming in through the windows.



But I blinked

And the world was gone



The voice sang, the music coursing through her as if it were coming from her body, every movement perfectly timed. I scaled my eyes down her face and form as she spun and leaped, wishing I could be the air around her and feel her move.

My chest ached so badly it hurt to breathe.

There was no one in the world like her.

The music ended, and silence fell in the house as she fell back on her feet, breathing hard. She stayed there, unmoving and quiet.

And finally, her voice pierced the air. “Are you here?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Were you watching?” she asked softly.

I wanted to bring her into my chest and just feel her relax, easing her mind and making her feel safe.

But she’d smell the smoke still on me, which I didn’t hold back on tonight on purpose. I didn’t want to be tempted to come see her.

I did anyway, though. I’d told the guys I was paying a hot, little visit to Mrs. Ashby, knowing they’d love that. None of us liked her husband.

But I just wanted to see Winter.

After what I did to her last night.

“I hate that you don’t talk to me,” she said, still rooted in the same spot but slowly turning in a circle, because she didn’t know where I was. “Like really talk. But I guess it wouldn’t have been like you to still be here this morning.”

No, it wouldn’t have been. After another half-hour in the shower, we’d dried, and I dressed, following her down to her room to lay with her for a while.

When she fell asleep, I stayed.

Still not sleeping.

Until about four a.m., then I snuck out.

And told myself that tonight I’d screw someone else.

And get Winter out of me.

“You are like a ghost,” she mused. “Or a vampire. You’re only alive for me at night.”

She swallowed and inhaled a breath.

“It’s okay. I was warned, wasn’t I?” she said. “That you would hurt me?”

Yes.

“My father thinks it would be better for me back in Montreal,” she told me. “He says that ‘the community here can’t accommodate my needs.’”

She repeated his words, feigning his deep, condescending voice, but fire coursed up my neck, and I was nervous.

Back to Montreal.

Away.

I’d never see her. What if she stayed there after high school?

If I didn’t think we should see each other, then we wouldn’t, but I didn’t like the choice being taken from me.

“What he really means is that I can’t afford to be a teenager,” she explained. “He thinks I’ll make mistakes and be hurt.”