Nightfall (Devil’s Night Book 4)

Present

I hugged Grandpa again, inhaling the scent of cigar and aftershave. Pain stretched my throat as I held my relief in check. Fuck, I’d missed him.

“What the hell is going on?” Damon snapped.

“Will!” Banks yelled next.

I pulled back from my grandpa, his presence always a comfort. Always.

He was a constant. As reliable as the tide, and even if I doubted whatever I was doing, I never doubted him. He was always right.

“You were gone too long,” he told me.

“I know.” I let him go. “We have lots to talk about.”

He’d wanted me extracted from Blackchurch months ago, and again a month ago.

And again, a week ago.

I was his favorite. No offense, Misha.

He looked over his shoulder to the off-duty cops accompanying Martin. “Go home, gentlemen.”

They nodded, some casting a quick look to their boss, but they knew a senator’s protection trumped a police commissioner’s threat.

“You son of a bitch,” Evans growled as his officers drifted off, out of the park, only a couple of people remaining with the senator.

I looked over, seeing both Martin and Evans, the realization of how they’d been double-crossed playing in their eyes.

“Don’t trust anyone, right?” Grandpa teased Evans.

I tried to wipe the smirk off my face as I gazed at Michael’s father, but I couldn’t. “Seems my long-game was a little longer than yours, at least.”

He thought my grandpa had teamed up with him, sent me to Blackchurch to screw over Graymor Cristane, and inserted himself to help protect all their financial legacy, but he failed to realize that I was my grandfather’s legacy, and William Aaron Paine Grayson, Sr. would always choose family.

In truth, this plan of action had been set in motion long ago.

“What the hell is going on?” Michael charged up to us, eyeing my grandfather. “You knew? You knew about my father’s role in everything?”

“Will knew,” he replied.

I turned and looked at my friends, all of them staring at me with a mixture of fury, confusion, and unease.

I didn’t want to look at Emmy, but I did, facing my almost-wife with the truth that I’d hidden since the moment she arrived at Blackchurch.

“I sent me to Blackchurch,” I told her and then drifted my eyes around the group. “To make…friends. To see if I could find others just like us—sons needing a home and a fight to live for.”

Micah, Rory, and Aydin loomed in my periphery, and I had no idea where Taylor was. By the time I’d made it to the tunnels, all the cars were gone, and I realized Aydin or someone must’ve followed them through the tunnels, either with a railcar or on foot. I jumped back in my SUV and raced here.

“And it didn’t occur to you to let us in on the secret?” Winter charged. “We were worried.”

“We thought you were gone,” Damon added. “Maybe forever!”

I stared at all of them, knowing exactly what they were saying. I understood why they were mad. I would be, too.

But…

I dropped my eyes, the old doubts creeping back up. “I was afraid I would fail,” I said in a quiet voice.

I couldn’t commit to something, assuring all of them that I would succeed, when I knew it was entirely possible that I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t have shocked them. They would’ve expected me to fail.

And proving them right, I couldn’t handle. Recruiting Micah and Rory wasn’t the only hurdle at Blackchurch. I was also getting sober.

“You’re all stronger than me.” I raised my eyes. “You always were. I couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore. I couldn’t face you. So, when my grandfather told me about the pictures and the fake police report that forced us to plea down before we went to prison, I started digging. Why would Martin do that?” I cast a quick glare over my shoulder, seeing him still standing there, frozen. “Who was helping him who had everything to gain by us three getting sent away?”

I looked back to my friends, letting my eyes drift from Damon to Kai to Michael.

“I knew you’d help,” I told them. “I knew you’d do anything I asked you to.”

“So you went to Blackchurch to recruit?” Kai asked, gesturing to Micah and Rory. “So you could bring them to the table?”

“So I could bring the table,” I countered. “I needed to dry up, and I had to do something right all on my own. I had to go somewhere I could find powerful people who needed us, too.” I met Michael’s eyes. “We needed them. If we were going to go up against your father and Martin Scott and win.”

“And yet,” Evans chimed in, “I have Khadir and Dinescu.”

“You have nothing,” Aydin said, stepping forward. “I don’t follow.”

He snapped his fingers and his crew in the devil masks backed away, standing down.

He looked to Will. “I’m just here for the fun.”

I held his eyes, knowing he was here to collect a lot more than that.

The immediate threat now equalized, Michael swept in, grabbed his father’s collar, and reared his fist back, punching him right across the face. Evans stumbled to the side, tripping over his legs, but Michael held firm and pulled him back up, not letting him get away.

Damon laughed at my side.

Michael leaned into his father’s face, growling low, “Someday, you and I are going to have a serious conversation,” he told him. “I’ll give you a few years to think about what you want to say to me. Now, walk to the car. Don’t make my mother watch you be carried out.”

Evans’s chest rose and fell hard, fear etched across his face as I’m sure he wracked his brain to think about how he was going to get out of this.

But someone came up and grabbed him, force-walking him out of the park as the rest of the officers drifted with them.

“I’ll take care of it from here,” my grandfather told me. “Call Jack if you want the other one extracted, too.”

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

His assistant had been just as reliable as he had been, keeping in constant touch with me at Blackchurch and keeping my grandfather informed.

He stared at me and smiled. “Be safe. All of you,” he said. “I’ll be at the tavern if you need me.”

I nodded, watching him, Evans, and all the officers leave the park. I turned, seeing only our crew, Aydin’s, and Martin left to deal with.

Micah walked up to me. “You needed our families’ power then?” he asked. “The protection of their connections and their investment into your resort? You used us for our families?”

“Wanna use me for mine?” I tossed back. “I asked you to give me till the end of the weekend. I chose you. Now it’s your turn to choose us.”

We did need them, but I wasn’t inviting anyone into the fold I didn’t believe honestly belonged here. Micah Moreau and Rory Geardon were my friends, and in no time at all, I had every confidence that Michael and everyone else would consider them such, as well.

I turned to Aydin, squaring my shoulders. “Leave.”

He glanced over my shoulder. “He could be useful to me.”

Martin Scott?

Aydin Khadir had no interest in money, power, or business. His satisfaction in life came from playing people, and getting his hands on Scott would keep me engaged, Emmy prisoner, and Alex in his life as a result.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” I gritted out. “Leave.”

Em walked over, standing at my side and facing him.

He’d used her at Blackchurch. But even so, he guided her when no one ever had.

For that, I’d let him walk out of here on his own two feet.

He met her eyes, a moment of something I couldn’t place passing in his eyes. “Are you scared, Emory?” he asked her.

Her voice remained as still and calm as her body. “I’m the eye of the storm. You?”

He turned his head, looking at Alex, the longing stretching between them so strongly, I could almost feel it vibrating in the ground.

“I’m the storm,” he murmured.

Alex stayed rooted, Aydin standing there, feeling like a ticking bomb, and I saw someone shift out of the corner of my eye, but before I could place it, Winter spoke up. “Gun,” she said, sucking in a breath. “I heard someone chamber a round.”

I darted my eyes to Aydin, the hint of a smile on his lips, and then Martin reached for his gun in his holster, and I spun around, knowing all hell was about to break loose.

“Lev, take the kid!” I yelled. “Now!”

Lev grabbed the little girl and ran, everyone fanning out as we faced Martin and Aydin, some whipping around to face Aydin’s crew.

I looked to Em. “Hide.”

“Are you kidding?” she yelled.

And then she ran, shooting out her foot right into Martin’s chest, the gun knocking out of his hand as he fell back onto the ground.

The whole place descended into chaos.

Screams and shouts filled the air, someone taking Winter to the ground, and she kneed him right in the balls just as Damon got to her, pulling the guy off her.

Martin’s gun clanked across the pavement, and he scrambled for it, but Em kicked it away. I was about to dive in, but she jumped on him, fury in her eyes as she wrapped her arms and legs around him and fought.

I turned to Aydin, who stood ready and willing.

“I’m leaving with one of them,” he informed me.

I charged for him. “You’re not leaving.”

You had that chance.

I threw a fist across his face, taking him to the ground, everyone around us fighting and growling. Winter crossed my mind, and I wanted to make sure she was okay. Did anyone have a gun out and ready to use on us? Did Lev make it out with the kid?

Where were the moms? Jesus.

Aydin threw me over and climbed on top, pinning me to the ground, his fist landing on my jaw, and my teeth cutting the inside of my mouth.

Someone screamed and others cursed, Aydin’s blood pouring down my hand where it seeped out of his nose.

We punched and fought, throwing kicks, and then he grabbed me by the collar, lifted me up, and slammed me into the pavement, my ears ringing and an ache coursing through my skull.

“Fuck,” I grunted, whipping him off me.

Rising to my feet, I kicked him in the face, watching him fly backward, and then I dived in from behind and wrapped my arm around his neck.

Holding him tight, I glanced behind me, seeing Emmy on the ground, her hoodie in Martin’s grasp as he slapped her.

No.

My hold loosened, and Aydin lurched forward, launching me over his body and onto the ground, coming around and throwing his kick across my face.

Fire exploded across my face, my vision blurring, and before I knew it, he kicked again and then again, straddling me and punching, again and again.

Blood filled my mouth, and I couldn’t open my eyes, but I grabbed his sweater and yanked him to the side, both of us rolling over onto the ground, the fight a mess of fists and fingers digging into each other’s necks.

But then something pierced the air, ringing in my ears, and I jumped, Aydin stopping, too.

Was that a…? A gunshot?

Aydin stared up at me, his angry eyes turning shattered. He twisted his head, looking over, and I followed his line of sight, seeing Alex standing there.

Everything stopped.

The fighting halted, and the screams and growls fell silent as her black pullover darkened with something wet on her chest, and I spotted the hole in the fabric.

Everything broke inside me.

Oh, my God.

I jerked my eyes over to Martin, seeing the gun in his hand as he laid on the ground with it aimed at Alex, and Emmy lying on his back and reaching for it, but she couldn’t stop him in time.

I shot off Aydin, dashed to Martin, and kicked the pistol out of his hand, and then brought down my boot, stomping his face.

I pulled Emmy up, starting off to Alex, but just then I saw Aydin racing over to her and catching her in his arms just as she fell.

Her eyes moved, but she wasn’t blinking, like she was in shock. A trickle of blood seeped out of her mouth, and I shot my hand to my hair, hoping that that blood came from the fight, and it hadn’t hit her lungs.

“I’m calling an ambulance!” someone shouted.

Everyone rushed over to her as Aydin pressed his hand to her wound, applying pressure and breathing hard as tears filled his eyes and he cradled her.

“Look at me,” he said as he ripped off part of his shirt to cover the wound. “Concentrate on my face.”

The wound was between her shoulder and chest, near the joint of her arm.

“Tap a song with your fingers for me, okay?” he said, breathless.

“I’d rather just concentrate on your face,” she whispered, reaching up and touching his cheek.

He slowed, unable to look at her as a tear dripped off his chin.

“Except your hair,” she teased. “You look like you’re in a K-Pop band, Aydin.”

He shot his eyes to her, at a loss for words for once in his life.

Then, he broke out into a chuckle. “I thought you hated the pompadour,” he argued.

“I did.”

He laughed again, tipping her head up. “You take me for a haircut, then,” he said, dipping his head down and holding her close. “Whatever makes you happy. I’ll do anything you want.”

A sob escaped him, but he shook it off and tried to rise to his feet with her, but Kai shot down and swept her into his arms.

“Get off her,” he said.

Kai carried her off, everyone following to the parking lot.

“Ambulance is on its way,” Damon said.

“Wait.” Aydin started after her.

But I whipped around and punched him, sending him flying back to the ground. “Fuck you!” I said.

I could hear Kai ahead. “You okay? Alex, talk to me. Stay with us.”

Aydin’s crew surrounded us, but he just stayed on the ground, not knocked out, but whatever fight he came in here with was now gone. He just sat there, staring after her with blood dripping down his face.

I looked after my friends, everyone in one piece, although Banks was limping, and Misha carried Ryen, their lips locked together as they went off. Guilt washed over me.

I knew this wasn’t our fault. We just wanted a piece of the pie. Evans sent us to jail with the help of Martin.

We didn’t want this fight. We just wanted them both gone, because we weren’t safe otherwise.

But it still hurt. I didn’t want Emmy, Misha, Ryen, or any of them in danger like this ever again.

I looked at her next to me, seeing a little blood on her face, and I quickly dabbed it, trying to get it off.

But she stopped me. “I had to fight back,” she told me. “Now he knows. Now he knows it will never go unanswered again.”

And I pulled her into me, squeezing her so tight.

She was like us. I would say the exact same thing, and even though I hated to risk losing her, she wasn’t a flower.

And now I understood why Michael let Rika be at his side in everything they did. She wanted to feel this, too.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t defend her honor, though.

Now, it was my turn.

“Come here, motherfucker.” I made my way for Martin, but when I turned, he was pushing off the ground and running.

Where the hell did he think he was going?

He raced for the entrance, but Damon spun around, quickly ushering Winter into Rika’s care as he faced Martin, ready to stop him.

I ran for him, and Martin stopped, looking for a way out as he twisted toward me and then back to Damon, realizing he was trapped.

Going the only way he had left, because he was too stupid to give up, he dove between the Ferris wheel and the utility building, probably thinking he’d lose us under the cover of the rides and game booths.

Damon went left, I went right, both of us charging after him into the darkness with the coast looming beyond the cliffs. I rounded the Ferris wheel, looking left and right, and then saw him running along Cold Point in the pitch-black night.

I growled, digging in my heels and running so hard my muscles burned. I reached my hand out, only about four feet of clearance between me and the cliff dropping off into the sea, and pushed him, seeing him stumble to the ground before I came down on top of him. I punched him, we rolled, and he straddled me, climbing off and scurrying back.

I rose to my feet, the sea at my back, and he stared at me, turning his head and seeing Damon come up from behind, trapping him again.

His eyes shot to mine, and I could see it in his gaze.

The rage. The defiance.

I saw the moment his lips tightened, he inhaled, and his eyes sharpened, resolving what he had to do in his head, the decision made.

Oh, shit.

He charged, and I didn’t have time to move out of the way before he rammed his body into mine, sending us both flying over the edge.

My heart jumped into my throat. Emmy…

Screams pierced the air above, and I stopped breathing, my mind paralyzed with so much fear I wanted to cry out.

No, no, no…

I almost closed my eyes, but I refused. I was going to look that fucker in the face, not giving him the satisfaction of my fear.

This was it.

We fell away from each other, but I kept my eyes locked on him.

I love you, Em. I love—

I crashed to the surface, white flashing behind my eyes and every nerve in my body sizzling like the end of an open wire. I floated, feeling the fade, the echoes quieting as I drifted further and further away.

White, white…and gone.

But then, all of a sudden, pain wracked through my body, my neck, and every joint, and I popped my eyes open, sucking in a huge breath.

It wasn’t air I drew in. Water filled my mouth, and I thrashed, looking around and seeing the ocean—above, below, and all around.

We’d landed in the water. Not the rocks.

I started choking, and I didn’t have time to take inventory of my limbs or where Martin was. I had to breathe.

Kicking my legs and crawling with my arms, I popped through the surface, sputtering water and coughing as I tried to clear my lungs. Finally, I took in one big gulp of air, hearing the wave behind me. I twisted around, and I didn’t have time to take another breath before the wave crashed down on me.

I was pushed under the water, carried with the current, and I looked down, seeing the abyss below.

I tilted my eyes up, seeing the moon through the water.

A sob lodged in my chest, reaching for the surface, but I couldn’t get to it. I knew this feeling.

The weight of the cinderblock around my ankle, feeling the slack stretch, and the sudden jerk as I was yanked down, and no matter how much I flailed and how hard I swam, I couldn’t outpower it.

I swam and swam, fighting for the top before the waves pushed me into the rocks, but then something grabbed my foot, and I kicked, seeing Martin pull himself up and lock an arm around my neck.

Bubbles poured out of my mouth as I growled, feeling us sinking as the air expelled from our bodies.

I struggled and fought. What the hell was he doing?

But I knew.

He wasn’t giving himself up, and he was taking me with him.

I twisted and thrashed, trying to pry his arms off me, but without any leverage to push off, we just kept falling.

I bit and hunched forward, trying to throw him away from me, but my lungs tightened and screamed, and I just wanted to open my mouth and take in air, but as I looked up, I couldn’t see the moon anymore.

I couldn’t see anything but the black as the cold covered us, swallowing us up.

Em.

I kept my eyes on the surface as it grew farther and farther away, my body part of the depths now. Too far gone to go back.

Just like the SUV filling up when we crashed into the river. Knowing it was only moments.

The air was gone, I could feel the fight in my chest for oxygen, and the cool comfort of the water.

I closed my eyes. Do you still want to hold me? she asked.

I could hear her in my head. I love you, Will.

No.

I popped my eyes open, fighting.

No.

I shot my head back, hitting his nose with my skull and swimming out of his grasp as he let go.

He grabbed me, and I climbed for the surface, but I couldn’t get far as he held on tight. He clutched my arm, and I couldn’t shake him off, the surface there if I could just get to it.

He had to let me go.

Sweeping behind him, I grabbed his face, his hand still clutching my arm and refusing to release me.

Fuck.

I dug my fingers into his skin, hesitating only a moment, and then…I twisted, feeling the neck snap in my hands.

They shook as his body went limp and fell out of my grasp, sinking to the bottom of the ocean as bubbles left his mouth.

I watched him go for a moment, making sure he was dead, and then I swam hard, one arm after another as I shot through the surface and sucked in a lungful of air.

I coughed, every inch of my body aching as I caught my breath and looked up at Cold Point.

I closed my eyes. “I survived,” I panted, starting to laugh. “Holy shit.”

How the hell was I going to get back up there?

I swam hard for the rocks, trying to beat the wave coming in, and climbed up onto a boulder, pulling myself up with my weakened arms.

I fisted my hands and tensed every muscle, making sure I was in one piece.

Looking up at the cliff, I noticed dark figures and flashlights beaming down, but then I saw something trailing down the cliff wall toward me.

I hopped over the rocks, making my way to the edge, and spotted a rope with knots for climbing.

Where did they get that?

I didn’t wait, though. Glancing behind me and making sure Martin was still buried under the water, I started climbing, pinching each knot with my shoes and hands as I hiked myself up one rung after another.

Emmy.

Everything hurt, but nothing had ever felt better.

I smiled. It was over. God, it was over.

Nothing could stop me. Not my exhausted limbs or the cold or the bruises and cuts.

I won, and the first thing I was going to do with her when the weather warmed up was to take her out to sea on Pithom. I wanted to swim.

Reaching the top, Micah and Aydin pulled me over the edge and onto the ground, and I collapsed, trying to catch my breath.

The little girl from before—the one we caught here the other night—knelt beside me, smiling. I thought Lev had taken her out of here.

But I was glad she didn’t go, after all.

“Was that your rope?” I panted.

She nodded, and I noticed she had two different colored eyes. One blue, one brown. “There’s tons of caves down there that no one knows about. I explore sometimes.”

Jesus. Who was she, and where did she come from? But then again, I was fine not knowing. It might’ve seemed weird to some people, but nothing seemed weird to me anymore. I liked mystery. Bring it.

I looked around at all the faces, Kai, Michael, Misha, and their girls probably having left to take Alex to the hospital.

“Where’s Em?” I asked Damon.

He glanced around and shrugged.

I tensed. She was right next to me before I chased Martin. She wouldn’t have left. I shot to my feet and pushed through them, rushing back into the park again and scanning the area for her.

Aydin was here. His people were here. Martin and Evans were gone.

Who…

Everyone hurried after me as realization dawned.

“Taylor,” I said, looking to Micah and Rory. “Have you seen Taylor?”

I hadn’t seen him, but the kid said she saw someone with an injured hand arrive two nights ago.

He had her.

I ran for the parking lot, everyone following me, but as soon as I got there, I saw a small group of men clad in black standing there with a convoy of cars, and I stopped.

Who the fuck was this now?

One of the men, built like a wrestler with muscles bulging out of his black shirt, stepped forward. His shiny black hair gleamed in the moonlight, the scruff on his cheek well-manicured. “Mr. Grayson?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Micah walked to my side and put a hand on my chest, stopping me.

“How did you find us?” he asked the guy.

The burly one just smiled, looking coy. “Like he ever not knows where you are, Mr. Moreau.”

Micah scoffed, looking away.

And then it hit me. Stalinz sent me back-up. These were mine.

“Where do you need us?” the guy asked.

I walked over and opened the door of his car, climbing in. “Follow us. When I wave you past, cut off the car I’m trailing.”

I started the engine, not wasting another moment. Damon, Micah, and Rory jumped in with me, and I sped off, out of the park, and turning left, toward Falcon’s Well and the shortcut to Evans Crist’s house. That was the only place I could think he’d go. If he wasn’t here tonight, then he didn’t know Evans had been caught.

I slammed the steering wheel with my fist. No one—and I mean, no one—was coming between us again.

Not ever again.

I pushed the pedal to the floor, hanging right as Damon grabbed the dash for support, and headed up into the cliffs, speeding down the lane.

If he’d gotten inside the Crist gates, I was going to crash right through and into the fucking house to get her, dammit.

Two more of Moreau’s SUVs trailed my ass like a convoy, and I rushed over dips in the highway, zooming past other cars and a truck full of kids out for Devil’s Night.

And then I spotted taillights ahead, recognizing one of Evans’s cars—a midnight blue Rover—racing down the road.

I smiled. Sticking my arm out the window, I waved the car behind me ahead and slowed just a little, so I didn’t have to slam on the brakes in a moment.

Moreau’s man sped past, raced ahead of the Rover, and jerked the wheel, screeching to a halt on the highway and blocking Taylor’s path.

Taylor swerved, and my heart skipped a beat as he slammed into the ditch, the car bobbing up and down as he sank into the ground, the tires spinning under the halted vehicle.

I slammed on my brakes, pulling over to the side of the road, the gravel grinding under the tires as I stopped. Jumping out of the car, I raced over to the driver’s side door, yanked it open, and pulled Taylor out, slamming a fist right across his face.

I watched him drop to the ground, knocked out. “Now it’s over,” I growled.

Ripping open the back door, I saw Emmy lying on the back seat, but trying to pull herself up as she rubbed her head.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “He knocked me in the head.”

She met my eyes, her own blinking and going wide when she saw me.

Alert, she jumped out of the car and threw her arms around me. “I saw you go over the Point,” she cried.

I squeezed her tight, the scent of her hair in my nose, and my arms wrapped around her small body.

“I’m okay,” I said.

She pulled back and gaped at me. “Okay?”

I almost laughed. She didn’t know about Pithom or the crash in the river—both times I’d almost drowned seeming like some sort of destiny I was putting off or some shit.

But tonight, I won.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Going over was kind of a good thing, actually, but I’ll explain later.”

She hugged me again, and finally, I breathed a sigh of relief, peace washing over me that it was finally over.

“And Martin?” she asked.

I swallowed, holding her tighter. “I’m sorry, babe.”

It was all I could say. I’d killed her brother. I wish hadn’t had to, but she wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers. We were her family now, and he was a threat.

It was him or me.

“I can’t lose you,” she said in my ear. “I need you.”

And I buried my face in her neck, feeling everything start. My life. Our life.

We won.