Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

Or maybe my head just wasn’t built for a long life of no consequence. It was “hard and fast” on everything, and I didn’t have the discipline for anything other than a one-track mind.

I changed my clothes, pulling on jeans, a T-shirt, and black hoodie, and then walked over and picked up the black wooden box Rika had held and noticed there was something stuck under the lid, preventing it from closing all the way.

I opened it, nudging the razor blade back inside and hesitating as I surveyed the rest of the items. An assortment of desserts that had been constant and reliable during a time when I was a kid, and they were the only things I could trust.

A paperclip, sewing needle, push pin, pocket knife, scissors, tiger tooth, small animal antler, and a bird skull for the sharp nostril edges. Most of them were sterilized, having not been used in a long time, but my gaze dropped to the lighter, and I absently rubbed my thumb over my index finger, feeling the raised skin from the old burn.

I looked at the push pin. I could sleep tonight. If I really wanted to.

I tapped my fingers silently on the box, indulging in the thought of the temptation, but then I heard a knock on the door, and I blinked, inhaling a deep breath.

“Sir,” Matthew Crane, the lead security detail my father had given me, said behind me. “The extra equipment you asked for is at the site.”

I nodded absently, closing the box and fastening the clasp. “You can go home,” I told him. “I won’t need you for a few days.”

Tucking the box back in the duffel bag, I walked to the sofa and finished getting dressed, lacing up my boots and grabbing my bag, stuffing my suit inside.

“You’re going tonight?” he asked, probably noticing my attire. “You won’t have much light, and it’s supposed to rain, sir.”

I shot him a look as I finished gathering my shit.

He didn’t press further, simply dismissing himself. “Congratulations,” he said. “On your nuptials, I mean. We’ll wait for your call.”

I followed him out the door, he and the other man both flanking me as we descended the stairs and left the club.

They may as well get their rest while they can. When the shit hit the fan, they’d be getting some sleepless nights.

Just like me tonight.

It wa

s time to head back to Thunder Bay.

I’ve done so much more than what I went to prison for—and far worse. Winter has no clue how bad this can get.

Winter

Seven Years Ago

“So you could probably just be homeschooled, huh?” Erika—or, Rika—asked as we treaded down the school hallway slowly.

She led me as I held onto her arm, just above her elbow.

“The textbooks are on audio,” she went on. “And then the teacher sends you the lecture notes, and the computer reads them for you, so…”

“Yeah, my parents would prefer it,” I admitted. “Actually, they would’ve preferred if I’d stayed in Montreal. But I need to learn how to be around people.”

I’d been attending and living at Penoir, a school for the blind in Canada for over five years now, and while I enjoyed it there, comfortable around others who had to live life like I did, I wanted to come home. I wanted to learn to live here again and cope with being who I was now in an average environment. I missed the smell of the sea around our house and the ballroom at home where I always danced.

It was for my own good, too. I wanted to do more ballet and start regular classes again, maybe shoot for something professionally with the support of my family around me.

“Must have been lonely,” Rika offers.

Someone brushed my shoulder as they rushed by, and I took a moment to steady myself. This was the part of school I wasn’t going to like. The crowded halls, the shouts, laughter, and chatter, and all the eyes. I lifted my chin, hoping I looked relaxed.

“Uh, well…” I joked. “I didn’t really say I wanted to be around people. I just need to learn to be.”

She let out a little laugh and veered right. “Turning,” she whispered, alerting me.