Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

“Hell yeah,” Damon replied. “That’s all you had to say.”

I shook my head, remembering what our real priorities were. I rounded the bend, climbing toward the cemetery, but just then, blue and red lights flashed in my rearview mirror, and I spotted headlights charging me from behind.

“Ugh, fuck,” I growled. “That son of a bitch.”

Dammit.

Pressing the brakes harder than necessary, I jerked my truck over to the shoulder and halted, hearing the gravel kick up underneath.

“Will…” Kai started.

“I’ll hold my tongue,” I assured him, already knowing what he was going to say. I pulled the weed out of the center console and slipped it to Damon. “Get rid of this.”

“Dude, what the hell?” Kai barked.

But I ignored him. “Get rid of it now,” I told Damon again, turning off the engine. “And don’t toss it out the window. His dash cam…”

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, stuffing it into the glove compartment and slamming it closed.

“Lock it.” I threw him the keys.

“You think he knows?” Damon looked at me as he quickly locked my glove box.

I peered into my side mirror, seeing Officer Scott walk up to my side with his flashlight beaming.

“I think Em is smarter than that,” I said.

She wouldn’t complain about last night and the lock-in. Tattling would dent her pride. Not sure how I knew that about her, but I did.

“Think he knows what?” Michael pressed. “What did you guys do? Dammit. You’re always pulling shit when I’m not looking.”

“We didn’t hurt her,” Damon assured.

“Just made her pee her pants a little,” Kai added.

I bit back my smile just as Scott tapped on my glass.

I rolled down the window and flicked the butt of my cigarette out onto the highway, missing him by just a hair.

He stopped, turning his eyes toward the cigarette burning its last embers and back to me, flashing his light inside.

“Here to see that picture of me again?” I teased.

But he wasn’t laughing. “License and registration, please.”

I hesitated a moment for good measure, and then reached into the console, pulling out my registration and insurance card holder, and then my license out of my wallet.

I handed him both. “I promise you, they haven’t changed since last week, Scott.”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he flashed his light on my license like he hadn’t seen it a dozen times in the past three months, and then my registration and insurance as if he didn’t already know that they don’t expire until my next birthday.

“You know how fast you were going?” he asked, studying my insurance card.

“It wasn’t fast.”

“Have you been drinking?” he inquired, unfazed.

“No.”