Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

I clutched the blankets at my sides and stared at the carpet.

Well, that was one apology, at least.

I shrugged, allowing him a little consolation. “With you in jail and unable to confirm that it wasn’t you in the mask instead of Trevor, we may never

have realized what had actually happened anyway.”

I wasn’t sure why I wanted him to feel better, but even if Michael had confronted me, it was my word against Damon’s, and seeing as how I had the sweatshirt, it made sense that he would trust his friend.

But he still should’ve confronted me. What were they hoping to gain with revenge, other than pleasure in someone else’s torture? Would it accomplish anything, take away what happened, or move their lives forward? Had their worlds become so small in prison?

Kai pulled out my desk chair and sunk into the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I was angry with you,” he told me. “At first, I was so angry when I thought you’d outed us. But I wasn’t vengeful. I was never going to do something like this.”

He stopped and stared off, and for a moment, it was like he’d gone somewhere else.

“Things changed,” he said in a low, dark tone.

I narrowed my eyes, immediately drawn in by the faraway look in his eyes.

What had changed while he was away?

“I never knew people could be that ugly,” he told me. “I’ll die before I ever go back there.”

I sat frozen, wanting to ask him what he was talking about, but I knew I shouldn’t care. He was referring to prison, I was sure, and I knew it must’ve been hard. Hard enough to turn him from angry to vengeful.

I looked over at his tired eyes, once bright with life, and I didn’t want him to stop talking. Michael never told me anything—never opened up—and I was interested.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

But he didn’t answer, and I saw him drift farther and farther away.

Standing up, I walked over to him and knelt down in front of him.

“Kai?” I asked, trying to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, and I hated how broken he looked. “No,” he whispered.

I couldn’t even get him to look at me. What the hell happened to him?

He hesitated, as if thinking, and then continued, “Damon lost what little heart he had,” he explained. “People, problems…they barely scratch the surface with him anymore. He doesn’t care about anything.” He ran a hand through his black hair, fisting it. “Will finds ways to cope with alcohol and other things, and as for me…I don’t want to be around anyone other than the guys. Not even my family. They won’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

His chest shook with a bitter laugh. “I wish I knew, Rika. I just can’t let anyone in. I haven’t touched a woman in three years.”

Three years? But he’d been out for months. No one in that entire time?

“Michael paid off guards to keep us safe, but he couldn’t shield us from everything,” Kai went on. “He watched as Will deteriorated, and I withdrew more and more. He was helpless to do anything, and he felt so guilty. Guilty, because he thought he’d incited you. Guilty, because he was free.” He took a deep breath and kept going. “He came up with the plan. Something to keep us hot and angry. Something to keep us fighting. And before we knew it, it consumed our every waking moment in there.”

And then he looked up, meeting my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

I let out a slow breath, seeing it in his eyes. I know.

Reaching out, he grazed his fingers down the side of my face, pushing my hair out of the way. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone,” he admitted. “Why does it have to be the one person I hated only just this morning?”

I couldn’t help it. I gave a small smile and caught his hand on my face in both of mine and held it.