Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

“We were so sure it was you,” Will chimed in. “I woke up, saw the videos online, and I panicked, realizing I’d left the phone in my sweatshirt at the warehouse.”

He could barely look at me.

“And then Michael saw the sweatshirt hanging on a kitchen chair the next morning, and we finally figured out through Damon that you’d worn it home. You were mad at Michael, feeling rejected, so we...we just…”

He trailed off, the rest not needing to be said.

I glared at Michael. All this time. All these years he could’ve confronted me…

But that was him, I guess. He pushed forward no matter who it hurt, always believing he was right and never apologizing. At least I could see the regret in Kai and Will’s eyes.

With Michael, nothing. The more mistakes he made, the taller he tried to stand, so no one could see over him. So no one could see anything but him.

I shook my head, my eyes burning as I stared at him. Say something!

How could he just sit there after everything we’d…?

I’d trusted him—shared parts of myself I’d never coming close to sharing with anyone else—and this is what had been going through his mind every time he whispered in my ear or touched me or kissed me or...?

I squeezed my fists so tight my nails dug into my skin.

“I want to leave,” I told him, tears still thick in my throat.

“No.”

“I want to leave,” I repeated, hardening my tone.

“You can’t.” He shook his head. “I have no idea where Damon is. We’ll all go back to the city tomorrow.”

I ground my teeth together. Goddamn them.

I stomped past him, up the stairs toward my room. I couldn’t stand the sight of any of them.

“So what do we do now?” I heard Kai ask behind me.

“Let’s get fucked up,” Will breathed out.

And I ran to my room, locked the door, and wedged a chair under the handle.

Present

I HAD NO INTENTION OF STAYING. I didn’t care what their story was or what they had to say. I wanted my life back.

And if I thought I was in danger at my apartment, Alex lived on the sixteenth floor, so I could crash on her couch for a night or two. I wasn’t safe here. I knew that.

But as I leaned down on the bathroom sink, feeling my chest shake with tears that weren’t falling, I raised my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror.

My tank top clung to my skin, wet and dirty with splotches of Damon’s blood, and my hair hung cold and stringy along my cheeks. My damp jeans hugged my thighs, chilling me to the bone, and I curled my fingers into the side of the sink, feeling Damon’s blood thicken under my nails, wedging deeper and deeper, until it was the only thing I noticed.

I closed my eyes, feeling my heart pick up pace again.

I’d fought back. I’d hurt him.

And I hadn’t run. Not like three years ago in the forest.

Being scared wasn’t a weakness. But letting it force my head down and my voice quiet was. Fear wasn’t the enemy. It was the teacher.

I hated Michael, and tomorrow, after I got everything back from him, I was leaving. No more Delcour, no more Meridian City, and no more Thunder Bay. I couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had hurt me.