Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

And I couldn’t like this. I needed to find some clean clothes. The clock on the dash read 2:02 a.m.

Damon drove around the school, to the rear, and parked between the buses and the field house.

He killed the engine, reached into the back and pulled out a baseball cap, and threw it at me as he pulled up his hood.

“Put it on,” he said. “And let’s go.”

I hesitated, my natural inclination to argue or demand answers, but…he seemed to have a plan, at least, and I couldn’t even remember my own name at the moment.

I slipped on the hat and exited the car, following him to the door as he pulled out a set of keys.

How he had keys to the school, I had no idea, and I didn’t give a shit.

He unlocked the door, and I hurried inside, following him through the boys’ locker room. He grabbed two towels and led me into a huge shower with multiple heads, slinging the towels over a divider.

I looked around as he started the water.

The girls had separate stalls. Some privacy, at least.

“Clothes off,” he told me. “Now.”

He pulled off his sweatshirt and started undoing his pants, and I opened my mouth to protest, but I clamped it shut again.

He wasn’t killing me, I guess.

He stripped off his clothes, and slowly, I did the same, just running on autopilot now.

I unhooked my overalls, pulled my sweater over my head, and discarded everything—my shoes, socks, and even my underthings, too scared of the slightest evidence.

We both dipped under our respective showerheads and rinsed, blood dripping off his body and down the drain. I spied a black rosary hanging around his neck and down his chest. Did he wear that all the time?

I closed my eyes, shivering under the water.

“You know who my father is, right?” he asked.

I nodded.

“And you know what will happen to you if you breathe a word of this.”

I opened my eyes and looked over at him, meeting his eyes through the locks of hair in my face.

“I know better,” I mumbled. “I don’t have your money to get out of this.”

He regarded me for a moment and then dipped down, rubbing at his legs and then arms.

I couldn’t stop shaking, my stomach churning as the water ran over the cut on my eyebrow, stinging.

“Maybe I’ll return the favor someday.” He stood back up. “When you’re ready to deal with him.”

His eyes fell down my body, taking in all the bruises he’d already seen.

“I’m a loose end,” I pointed out. “Why didn’t you kill me when you saw me see you there tonight?”

He looked like he was thinking about it.

But instead, he asked, “Why didn’t you run when you saw me?”

He was right. I’d willingly inserted myself.