Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

My eyes watered, and I couldn’t even open them, but I felt one of them pull off my belt, and I barely realized what was happening as I was dragged to the wall, catching glimpses of the girls struggling to move us.

By the time I came to and was able to open my eyes, my arms were secured, and I couldn’t move.

I looked up, seeing my right wrist tied to the treadmill with one of Aydin’s neckties, and my other wrist bound to his wrist with my belt. I looked over at him, seeing his left hand was also tied with his belt to the hook holding back the drapes.

I belted out a growl, yanking my arms and grunting as I glared at the girls.

“What are you doing?” I yelled. “What the fuck!”

They walked about the room, doing things and ignoring us, and I stared at Em, who wouldn’t even look at me. I wasn’t the one out of control here.

“Hey!” Micah said, Rory, Taylor, and him all rushing to the doorway. “What the hell’s going on?”

But Emmy charged over and kicked the door shut, propping a chair underneath it.

“This is bullshit!” I shouted.

But Aydin just laughed, shaking his head. He wasn’t threatened by them.

Emmy poured herself another glass of bourbon and then pulled off her T-shirt, leaving herself in Rory’s cut-offs and a bra.

She tried to look over her shoulder, and I could see a red spot forming on her back. Did she get hurt in that tussle? I remembered them on us briefly, but I didn’t know she’d fallen.

She took a sip of the drink as Alex inspected the damage.

“I’m okay,” Em assured her.

But Alex spun around, fire in her eyes as she glared at us like she wanted to kill us. “None of this is okay!”

She wiped the sweat off her face and walked into the bathroom, turning on the faucet while Emory downed the alcohol and poured herself another shot. She stood there quietly, and I continued to yank and pull on the six-hundre

d-pound treadmill like I’d actually be able to free myself. What the hell was the plan here? What were they going to do? Take control? Enlist the others?

Emory looked over at us—or me—through her glasses and hesitated a moment before bringing her glass over and sitting down on the carpet in front of us, just far enough away that we couldn’t reach her.

I held her eyes.

“The time you drove me home from the away game,” she said, “and we stopped at the Cove, I had a thought that night.”

All she did was think that night. She overthought everything.

“Part of me resisted you because I didn’t want to bring you into my horrible life,” she told me. “I was embarrassed and full of anger and without hope. I couldn’t give you anything.”

I tipped my chin up, remaining silent.

“But a part of me also resisted you because I feared I’d just be trading one abuse for another,” she explained. “How you coerced me, pushed me, wouldn’t leave me alone when I told you to… Tried to scare me.”

My gaze twitched as I studied her. I wasn’t abusive. I was a little spoiled and cocky, but I never wanted to hurt her.

She dropped her eyes, taking a sip. “The thought left me as quickly as it came,” she added, “because I wanted you, and deep down I held so tightly to the hope of you. I needed that.” She raised her gaze again. “But now, I wonder if I was right. Here I am, covered in bruises again. Maybe your world is just as bad as mine.”

I shook my head, but any protest I wanted to offer back died in my throat.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, as if Aydin and Alex weren’t in the room. And then firmer, “Huh? What do you want?”

Alex dropped down behind her, peering over her shoulder as both women sat there, challenging us.

“Who put me here?” Emmy asked. “Who thought I should be here with you? Damon, maybe? Michael?”