Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

When we’d covered her as much as we could, Damon carried the sheet and the shovel back to the trunk, while I stepped on top of the grave, packing the soil.

I gazed at the grass around us. It was a mess. They must use a blower or something to clean up the soil scattered around the grass, but we didn’t have that right now. What if they noticed?

Just then, a drop of rain hit my face, and I looked up to the sky.

A few more drops of cool water hit, and I c

losed my eyes, almost smiling.

Damon rushed back over, helped me finish flattening out the dirt, and then pushed me off, dropping to his knees and running his hand over the grave, getting rid of our footprints.

“The rain will muddy it,” I told him. “Maybe they won’t notice it was dug up.”

He nodded. “Get in the car. Now.”

God, he was probably going to kill me next, but I didn’t think. I ran over, opened the passenger door, and climbed into his BMW.

BMW.

I’d seen this car before. Somewhere.

But I shook my head.

Of course, I’d seen it before. Everyone at school knew the Horsemen’s vehicles.

Damon slammed the trunk shut and climbed into his seat, rain starting to pummel the roof, and I stared out the window at McClanahan’s grave, dirt kicking up at each heavy drop.

We shouldn’t have dumped her here. Where did he get that idea?

That grave was important. Damon and his pals revered it. How could he put her there? Wasn’t that like desecrating McClanahan’s memory or something?

I mean, I guess it seemed smart. Hide a body where no one would think it was odd to a find a dead body, especially since that grave was freshly dug and there was a good chance no one would notice it had been disturbed again, but anyone could’ve seen us. Maybe someone did.

I looked around, scanning the tree line and hedges. Looking for any flash of movement among the crypts and headstones.

I stuck my thumbnail in my mouth tasting the dirt on my finger and feeling it in my sweater.

I looked over at Damon, who still hadn’t started the car.

He gripped the wheel, his bottom lip trembling as he stared through watery eyes out the windshield.

“I didn’t love her,” he said, almost to himself.

But his face was twisted in sadness and despair as tears spilled over, falling down his dirty face.

“I don’t know why it hurts,” he told me. “I didn’t love her.”

“You did,” I said, but it came out as a whisper. “You learned how to love from her.” I turned my eyes back out my window, staring at the grave. “This is what it looked like.”

My parents raised me, but so did Martin. He shaped me.

No wonder I couldn’t give Will what he wanted.

Tears finally hit my eyes until everything was so blurry that I couldn’t see.

Damon took off, and I didn’t know where we were going, but when he pulled into the school parking lot, I was a little relieved.

I didn’t want to go home.