Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

Yanking open the door, he left the house, slamming it behind him.

I let out a breath, my shoulders dropping.

But then I felt a hand brush my cheek and heard Michael’s voice. “Are you okay?”

I jerked away, slapping his hand off me. “Fuck you.”

He dropped his hand and straightened, keeping his distance. He knew he’d fucked up. What they’d done tonight was unforgivable.

“Fucking Trevor,” Will grumbled, charging into the foyer. “I can’t believe it.”

“He always hated us,” Kai added, coming in behind him.

Michael exhaled and turned away. Walking over to the stairs, he sat down and buried his head in his hands, looking completely defeated.

Yeah, it must be a bitch to realize you wasted three years hating the wrong person.

Chills broke out over my skin, and the heat that had covered my body before was now gone. The wet clothes stuck to my skin, and I shivered.

All this time, I thought I was insignificant to him. A stupid kid, barely worth his time. A mistake he’d made one night long ago that he barely remembered. But now I knew that, not only was that not true, but he’d spent three years planning how to hurt me?

And he was going to let his friends hurt me, too.

Tears welled, and I clenched my teeth, hardening my jaw, to keep them away. He didn’t fucking deserve them.

Stepping slowly toward Michael, I demanded, “Where is my mother?”

He combed his fingers through his hair and looked up, his eyes weary. “California,” he answered. “She’s in a rehab in Malibu.”

“What?” I blurted out.

Rehab? My mother would never agree to that. She wouldn’t leave the safety of her home or friends. She wouldn’t leave what was familiar.

“I had a judge sign a court order, forcing her stay,” he clarified as if reading my mind.

I inched closer, narrowing my eyes on him. “You forced her?”

“What everyone should’ve done a long time ago,” he argued, his voice firm. “She’s fine. Perfectly safe and taken care of.”

I turned my head away, closing my eyes and running a hand over the top of my hair.

Rehab. So they weren’t hurting her then.

But…

But if Michael wanted to hurt me—if he thought I’d betrayed him—why would he do

something that would ultimately help my mom? Why not just lock her in a basement somewhere like I’d thought?

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why haven’t I been able to get a hold of anyone?”

I now knew why my mother had been unreachable. She probably wasn’t permitted a cell phone in rehab. But Michael’s mother, his father’s cell phone, Trevor, our housekeeper who was out of town…

“Because you haven’t been calling anyone,” Michael admitted, looking up at me with a flat expression. “During Trevor’s party, Will went into your car and took your phone, replacing everyone’s numbers under their names. You’ve been calling a fake phone we set up.”

My fists curled under my arms, and I dropped my eyes, seething. I couldn’t fucking look at him.

How had all this happened? Why hadn’t they confronted me sooner?