Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

Chilled and shaking, my muscles exhausted from everything that had happened tonight, I didn’t think. I stood up and slowly lifted the tank top over my head, peeling off the rest of my clothes and dropping everything to the floor before I turned to start the shower.

Just a few minutes.

I stepped in and sat down on the sandy-colored shower floor, right under the hot spray. Steam filled the small enclosure, and my hair was immediately drenched, falling down my back as I tipped my chin up and let the hot water cover my face.

Tingles spread over my body, and my heart began to calm as I hugged my legs to my body and felt everything grow warm again.

Michael.

He’d done all of this. He’d been in charge. He’d told me to come here, and out of love for my mother, I did.

He’d trapped me, blackmailed me, and put his friends on me.

I hate him.

I worked vigorously, washing my hair and body, and then I used a file to dig Damon’s blood out of my finger nails. Getting out of the shower, I dressed and checked my bedroom door again to make sure it was locked before going to dry my hair.

But as soon as I was done—and I’d turned off the hair dryer—I noticed a vibration under my feet.

And my ears perked, hearing an indiscernible beat coming from downstairs.

Was that music?

I set the dryer down and walked toward my door. Leaning my ear into it, I heard a short, fast rhythm and then a few howls.

What the fuck?

Tossing my brush on the dresser, I pulled the chair away from where it was lodged under the handle and cracked open the door.

Loud music immediately hit me, and I could hear voices and laughter.

A lot of voices and laughter.

Leaving the door open, I dashed over to my window and looked out at the driveway.

It was flooded with cars.

“I don’t believe this,” I said to myself.

Whipping around, I charged out of my room and down the stairs, taking a look around at all of the people.

I clenched my jaw. What the hell was going on?

Some of them I recognized from being a couple of years behind me and still in high school, some were college students home for the weekend, and others I had no idea. Maybe people from neighboring towns? L

ocals?

They walked around with Solo cups, talking and laughing, and some even tried to call out to me to say hi, but I just ignored them.

I stormed through the house, going in and out of rooms, trying to find Michael. The finished basement and media room were packed full of people I barely recognized, and I couldn’t find any of the guys in the kitchen or on the patio, either.

I spotted Alex chatting with a couple of guys by the pool, but I didn’t have time to wonder how she’d gotten here so fast.

Where the hell was Michael?

The court.

I charged for the other end of the house, already hearing the pounding of a basketball coming from Michael’s huge indoor basketball court.