Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked.

He must be on the phone, but I didn’t look away from Alex.

“Okay, got it,” I heard Michael say in the distance. “Yes, we’re all right. Send an attendant to check the rest of the cars. Thank you.”

The V of Alex’s gray T-shirt hung open as I gazed down the tunnel between her breasts. I dug my nails into the carpet.

“The trip stop engaged,” someone said. “We were going too fast. It won’t take long to get the railyard to throw the switch and get us going again.”

But no one responded to him. Something pulled at me, and I looked over, seeing Will leaned back in his seat, arms slung over the back of the sofa, and his eyes locked on me.

Alex grabbed my foot, and I sucked in a breath, turning my eyes on her.

She stared at me, and then slowly…slid her other hand up my ankle, held my leg, and pulled her shoe off my body.

Heat rushed in my veins.

The eye of the storm. The eye of the storm.

I drew in a breath and gently exhaled, calming my breathing as I leaned back on my hands and let her take my other leg, pull it up, and slide off the other sneaker.

Rain hit the windows, the forest silent outside under the cover of night, and Michael lit a candle, everyone in the room looming in the background as the hairs on my body stood on end.

Everyone was silent.

There. Filling the room.

Watching us.

She gripped my ankle.

“I don’t want to fight,” I murmured.

But she retorted, “I still want my shirt.”

Will didn’t move, but I heard his intake of breath.

The pounding in my chest grew harder, and I felt his eyes and the heat pooling between my legs. I couldn’t think about anything.

No fear. No doubt. Just the moment.

There was nothing about me to lose that I wanted to keep.

Slowly, I pushed off the floor, Alex rising with me, and I wasn’t going to run.

I unbuttoned my shirt.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Alex whispered, closing the distance between us.

“No.” I moved my hands down, unfastening one button after another. “You know he’s not.”

Aydin had destroyed his life over her. He was too single-minded to die yet.

Slipping the shirt off my shoulders, I handed it to her, and she took it, letting it immediately drop to the floor.

“That’s my favorite corset,” she told me, not breaking eye contact.

I swallowed, my stomach dropping a little. I could feel six pairs of eyes all over the bare skin of my arms and chest.