Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

I glanced up, seeing Michael and all of his friends charge into the dining room. My heart fluttered, and I tensed, the large dining room suddenly ten times smaller with their huge forms filling the space.

They were sweaty and breathing hard, having just come from the indoor court. It was an addition that was made to the house for Michael’s fourteenth birthday when his mother realized he wasn’t kidding about basketball and his father relented. He loved the game, much to Mr. Crist’s distaste.

“Don’t be in such a damn rush.” Damon pushed Will’s head forward as he walked behind him. “I want to enjoy tonight.”

They descended on the table, towering over us as they grabbed their plates—Michael dropping his basketball to the floor where it slowly rolled to the wall near the fire place—and loaded food like wolves oblivious to the rest of us waiting to see what was left over.

“Rika, get your milk,” Mrs. Crist whispered-yelled, and I looked at her, both of us grinning and sharing in the joke. She had the cook buy chocolate milk for me, but it always ended up disappearing before I barely got a glass out of it.

I reached over, quickly uncapping the container and pouring a glass before setting it back down again.

“Where’s Dad?” Trevor asked.

“Still in the city, unfortunately,” his mother answered.

“Yeah, right.”

I looked up at the whisper, seeing Michael tower over me as he reached for the chocolate milk in front of me.

It was no secret that their father kept multiple women. Well, actually, it was a secret. One that everyone knew but no one talked about. Including Michael. His mother was the only person I was sure he would never hurt, which was why I was the only one to hear his snide remark.

“Hell yeah,” Will gushed over some sweet potato dish Mrs. Haynes had set down as he piled the mushy concoction high on his plate.

“Hand me two,” Damon held out his plate to Kai who doled out deviled eggs.

They weren’t sitting, which meant they were probably taking their food off to the media room for privacy. They had plans for tonight to talk about, no doubt.

But they didn’t get far.

“Michael? All of you sit down now,” Mrs. Crist ordered pointing her finger.

The guys stopped and smiled to themselves, indulging her as they turned back around and took seats.

Michael sat in his father’s place at the head of the table, his friends on his right with Trevor between him and me on his left.

Everyone dug in.

“I’m going to trust that I don’t have to worry about tonight,” Mrs. Crist warned, picking up her fork and gazing around at the guys.

Michael shrugged, uncapping my chocolate milk and drinking from the container without answering her.

“We have no choice but to keep it low key,” Kai stepped in and answered, humor thick in his voice. “Michael would lose his spot on the team if we wound up on the news.”

“Again,” Will finished, pride evident in his green eyes before sticking a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

While other teens might spend Devil’s Night toilet papering houses, nailing tires, and smashing pumpkins on the streets, the Horsemen were rumored to take their pranks a little further.

Fires, break-ins, vandalism, and destruction of property were all credited to them even though there was never any proof, their faces being covered by masks as they were.

But we always knew who it was. And even though the cops probably did, too, when you’re born with the blessing of the right name, connections, and money, you’ll use it.

Damon Torrance, son of a media mogul.

Kai

Mori, son of an influential socialite and banker.

William Grayson III, grandson of Senator Grayson.