Corrupt (Devil’s Night Book 1)

Present

FLOATING.

My head was swaying, and for a moment it felt like it was lifting off my body and drifting up into the air. A seed of pain sat in the side of my head but quickly bloomed, spreading and searing across my skull as I grunted.

“What the hell?” I blinked my eyes open, putting my hand to the sore spot above my temple and hissing, “Shit.”

I checked my hand, not seeing any blood, but the spot was definitely tender.

Damon. I stilled, remembering that he’d been in my apartment.

“Oh, my God,” I breathed out, fumbling as I sat up and the room came into focus.

Where was I?

Planting my hands on the soft fabric under me, I quickly looked around, noticing the beige and wood furniture and fixtures, the glass doors leading to a wooden deck, the paintings and gold sconces in the walls, the carpets, and the impersonal but very familiar feel of the room.

And then I felt the hum underneath me. The hum of engines below.

Pithom. We were on the Crist boat.

I’d only been on it a handful of times growing up—parties and day excursions down the coast—but I knew it well.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I heard behind me, and I jerked my head around.

Damon stood on the other side of the couch from where I was lying, leaning a shoulder on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his black eyes fixed on me.

“I was starting to worry,” he said in an eerily calm tone.

He was dressed in black pants and a white button-down that was loosely tucked in and open at the collar. His black hair looked tousled like he’d just woken up, but his eyes proved the contrary. They were fully zoned in on me, alert and ready. He didn’t look at all like he’d just been stabbed and bloody a week ago.

“I never really thought about it before, but watching you sleep—here and in your apartment…” He dropped his eyes for a moment, looking serious. “You’re very beautiful. Long, blonde hair, full lips…You have this innocent calm about you.”

I stared, my heart racing, feeling sick. He’d watched me sleep in my apartment? God, how long had he been there before I’d woken up?

I shifted my eyes, stealing glances around the room again. I needed to get something in my hands. I wished I had the Damascus blade.

“Yeah, so clean and perfect,” he mused, pushing off the wall and walking around the couch. “Just like he wants you.”

I narrowed my eyes, slowly standing up and backing away as he approached. “Who?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Who wanted me clean and perfect?

My head throbbed, and I felt dizzy, but I held out my hands, trying to keep him away.

“Only you’re not so clean anymore, are you?” he gloated, ignoring my question. “Michael got his hands on you, and you’re only good for one thing now.”

“What are you talking about?” I stumbled backward, my fists curling as fear coiled in my gut.

“Don’t worry, he’ll get some fun out of you.” Damon inched toward me, a sick smile in his eyes. “But he’d never marry his brother’s whore.”

Marry…what?

And then Damon’s eyes flashed behind me, and I swung around, seeing Trevor standing right behind me.

He stood tall and imposing, dressed in jeans and a navy blue Polo. His blonde hair was still cut close to the scalp, military-style, and his blue eyes pierced me, looking smug.

I shook my head. “Trevor?”

And I only had a second before his hand came down and whipped across my face. I stepped back, trying not to fall as my head jerked to the side and fire blazed across my cheek like a million needle pricks under my skin. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I held my face as the pain in my head exploded and everything became blurry.

Damon grabbed me and spun me around, throwing me over his shoulder.

“No!” I cried, pushing at his back and squirming. I coughed, feeling the bile in my stomach rise up into my throat as he carried me off down a dark passageway.

“Damon!” I choked, feeling the heaves rumbling through my stomach. “Damon, please.”

He carried me through a doorway, and I grabbed hold of the frame, stopping him as I kicked and struggled. “Let me go, you sick piece of shit!” I screamed, because I was sick of being afraid. “You’re nothing! You hear me? You’re nothing but garbage, and I hope you die!”

He yanked hard, and I lost my grip, my arms shooting with pain from being nearly pulled out of their sockets.

I flew through the air, my breath catching in my throat as I landed on a bed. I immediately shot up to a sitting position, but he came down right on me again. Grabbing my wrists, he pulled me up the bed and planted his knee in my chest, holding me in place.

“Damon!” I barked, but my lungs emptied with his weight on my chest, and I couldn’t take in anything but short breaths.

“Don’t talk,” he growled.

I thrashed and pushed my body up off the bed, choking and coughing as I tried to suck in air and get him off me.

“Fuck you!” I tried to yell, but it came out strained.

He pulled something brownish out of his pocket and wrapped the itchy fabric around my wrists.

“No!” I tried to yank my hands away, to swing at him or throw him off or anything, but he just held me tighter.

I tried sucking in a breath, despite the weight on my chest, but it was ragged. He tied me up, securing my hands to the headboard.

Looking around quickly, I noticed an entire wall of windows behind Damon, showing a vast blackness outside and stars in the night sky. There was nothing on the bedside tables I could use as a weapon, but if I could get free, there was no doubt something in one of the drawers or in the bathroom.

“Where are we?” I demanded, my skin burning under the knots he tied.

“Two miles off the coast of Thunder Bay.”

I slowed, staring up at him. We were out at sea? Why?

I thought maybe we were docked in the marina, where the yacht was usually kept, but there could only be one reason to take it out.

There wouldn’t be any help out here.

“Michael…” I said quietly, not sure what I was asking.

“He’ll be here soon,” Damon said, sounding like he was saying, it’ll all be over soon.

A shiver ran up my spine, and I sucked in a welcome breath as he took his knee off my chest.

But the freedom from his weight didn’t last. He came down on me again, forcing my thighs apart as he nestled his waist between my jean-clad legs. Every muscle in my body tensed as he propped himself up with both arms, staring down at me.

“Now that I have you to myself,” he taunted, his gaze turning heated.

I jerked, pulling at the restraints and letting out a growl. Tears spilled down the sides of my head in my hair, and I heaved breath and breath, trying to yank my arms free.

“Such a fighter,” he commended. “I knew you were going to be a lot of fun.”

I pressed my bare feet into the mattress, squirming and trying to arch my body off the bed, but he only laughed, pressing his hardening cock between my legs.

I cringed, turning my head away and trying to sink into the pillow to get away from him.

“Keep doing that,” he begged. “It feels so good, Rika.”

And then he lowered his mouth to my cheek. “Come on,” he breathed out, his tongue flicking my jaw. “You know it’s going to happen. I think you’re afraid you’ll like it.”

I shook my head and turned to meet his eyes, glaring at him. “You won’t do this. I know you.”

“You don’t.” His voice turned threatening.

But I pressed forward. “You’re mean and you’re sleazy, but you’re not evil,” I gritted out. “I thought you and Kai—or Trevor—were going to hurt me that night, even for just a while. I didn’t know if it was a joke or if you were for real, but I didn’t feel safe. I was scared out of my mind.”

He watched me, hovering his mouth over mine.

“But you didn’t let him,” I shot out. “You didn’t let him hurt me. It was a joke for you, but once you realized Trevor was carrying it further than you’d planned, you stopped him. You’re not bad.”

His tongue flicked my chin, and I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest shaking with sobs as he trailed it down my neck and to my breast, over my blouse.

“You’re not bad,” I said, pulling against the restraints and feeling his tongue circle my nipple through the fabric. “You’re not bad.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, hovering over my breast. “I’m nothing. I’m a piece of shit. I’m garbage.”

And then he pushed up, climbing off the bed and looking down at me, his eyes now ice cold. “And I’m going to be your nightmare, Erika Fane.”

He turned around and walked for one of the chairs to my left and sat down, looking disturbingly calm.

There was a shield over his eyes now, and I forced the hard lump down my throat, fearing he was done talking.

He sat. And waited.

“So what?” I argued. “Trevor’s in charge of you now? Did you learn how to be somebody’s bitch in prison?”

He smirked, leaning back in the chair with his forearm resting on the table to his right.

“If you do this,” I bit out, “you’ll lose them forever.”

“Who?”

“The guys,” I clarified. “They’re your family, and they’ll never forgive you for this.”

He shook his head, looking away. “It’s too late anyway. Things will never be the same now.”

He stared off, a look of solemn resolution crossing his face, as if nothing was ending.

It was already over, and Damon was already lost.

“Do you know why we took you out there that night?” Damon asked. “Normally, I don’t care who Michael fucks unless I like the look of her and want my turn, but you were different. I knew it that night. He wanted more from you than just pussy.”

I tensed my arms and pulled at the rope, the course threads digging into my skin. “Why did that bother you so much?”

“Because when it comes to women, there is nothing more than just pussy,” he snapped. “You were going to come between us. Change us and ruin what we had.”

The creases in his forehead dug in deeper, and he glared at me. I didn’t understand what he was talking about. How would I come between them?

“When I ran into Trevor,” he continued, “we thought we’d mess with you. Scare you off. I’d get what I wanted, you away from Michael and the rest of us, and dickless little Trevor, who was always jealous of his older brother, would get you back on a leash.”

He licked his lips and continued, “Will was easy. He was three sheets to the wind, and even sober, that fucker can’t add two plus two, so once we got Kai’s mask on Trevor, the rest fell into place.”

“But when we got the clearing,” I cut in, “you realized Trevor had a plan you didn’t know about. You wanted to scare me, freak me out, maybe fuck me in a moment of weakness if I let you, so I’d feel too ashamed to ever face Michael again, but you didn’t want to hurt me.” And I took a deep breath, finishing, “And you don’t want to hurt me now.”

He absently picked at something on the table, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, meeting my eyes. “I do want to hurt you. I want to fucking kill you, and then I’m going to kill Trevor.”

“Trevor?”

He nodded. “Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Now that I know he stole the phone, oh yes. You’ll be just because I’m fucking angry, and I’ve got nothing to lose. I already lost everything, because just like a woman does, you fucked everything up. You came between brothers.”

I didn’t come between them. I never made Michael choose, and I never wanted to ruin what they had.

I wanted to be a part of it. I was curious, and I wanted to have some fun, but I never wanted to change them or stop them or…

And then I paused, dropping my eyes as I remembered the gazebo. The way I’d protested when I didn’t agree with what Will was doing. The way I’d walked off when Michael told me to stay. The way I’d looked down on what they were doing.

Maybe Damon was right.

I didn’t regret backing out of that prank. It was shitty and stupid and wrong, but while Michael may have stayed by his friends’ side that night, maybe there would’ve come a time when he didn’t.

Maybe, eventually, after more pranks and more nights of careless decisions they’d make that I’d want no part of…maybe there would eventually be a night when Michael would choose me over them.

I’d done nothing wrong, of course. This wasn’t my fault, and I knew that.

But now, seeing it through Damon’s eyes—him knowing I’d eventually get into Michael’s head and knowing that none of this—none of this—would have happened if I hadn’t gone with them that night, maybe I needed to acknowledge that I was, at least, part of this. Like Will had said…I was already involved.

“We were all hurt by what happened,” I said, locking eyes on him. “I’m not the one to punish.”

He remained still and quiet for moment.

“Maybe,” he finally answered. “Maybe you’re just a victim like the rest of us.”

Something crossed his face, a weariness bubbling under the anger and hate he tried so hard to keep on like a mask. There was something playing behind his eyes, a scene or a memory, but I couldn’t figure it out.

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” he said in a quiet voice.

But before I got a chance to ask him what he meant, a shadow fell across the floor, and I twisted my head right to see Trevor standing in the doorway.

“Are you two bonding?”

His voice sounded so smooth and light, as if he hadn’t just hit me.

I narrowed my eyes, noticing that he looked thinner.

Annapolis.

Wait, he wasn’t supposed to be here. He couldn’t just leave the Academy whenever he wanted. Had Damon gone to him after the blow-up at Michael’s parents’ house? He had to have.

Trevor had loose ends to clear up, and he had to fear Michael would come after him. He was beating him to the punch.

Damon rose from his chair and left the room, and I tensed, realizing he was leaving me with Trevor. For some reason, I felt in more danger.

“He’d never help you,” Trevor stated, stepping into the room. “He hates women.”

He approached, and I wrapped the slack of the rope around my fist and inched up the bed, away from him. My hand hit the mirror of the headboard, and I stopped, tapping it with my nail.

Glass.

“Did you know that he was twelve when his mother started fucking him.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned my eyes on Trevor, horror wracking through me.

What?

“And when he was fifteen,” Trevor continued, “he beat the shit out of her and threatened to kill her if she ever came back. I overheard my father talking to his a few years ago.”

My bottom lip quivered, and I didn’t know if he was telling the truth, but why would he lie?

It would explain why Damon hated women, I guess.

“His father swept it under the rug and never talked about it again. The guys were all he had, and you took that from him.”

“You took that from him,” I growled, tightening every muscle as he sat down on the bed.

Trevor’s hand trailed up my leg, and I kicked, shoving him off, but he only smiled and gripped my thigh harder, making me cry out.

I can’t believe I ever let him touch me.

Last year, I’d given in to the years of pressure of being pushed together for dances, parties, and pictures, and I stopped fighting the constant assumptions that were together and finally just let it happen. Trevor gave me stability, he wanted me, and I was too stupid to believe I deserved better. But most of all, he was a distraction from Michael. I thought he would make me move on and forget.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that Trevor gave me nothing. In one night, Michael had showed me that I wasn’t weak. That I was beautiful, wanted, and strong, and even though that night was short-lived, I knew what I felt for Trevor didn’t even compare to everything that Michael was for me.

Trevor only claimed me as a prize. He didn’t see me.

“How can you do this?” I demanded. “What do you want?”

“I want to see you both lose,” he retorted. “I’m done being in Michael’s shadow, and I’m done watching you pant after him.” He raised his eyes, looking at me. “I want to see you both hurt.”

I ground my teeth together, jerking at the rope again and again. “Let me go.”

His hand slipped under my shirt, and I tried to twist away, his touch making my skin crawl.

“As for Damon? He just wants everyone to hurt,” he pointed out. “He and I make a great pair.”

“Why would he cover for you?” I demanded. “He knew it was you in that mask that night. Why would he let me think it was Kai?”

Trevor shrugged, watching his hand slide over my stomach. “You’d already been kicked to the trash by Michael. It served our purpose if you didn’t think you had a friend out of them left. Plus,” he said with a smile, “he doesn’t give a shit about you. After he and the rest of them thought you outed them, I think he got off on the idea that the only real threat to you was right under your nose.”

Meaning Trevor. Always there. Just one room away. Lurking, waiting…

“But you knew they thought I took the phone and uploaded the videos. You had to know they’d come after me.”

“Which wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t decided to leave Brown,” he shot back. “I could’ve kept Damon at bay, and he could’ve kept the rest of them waiting.” He sighed and then continued, “But you left my protection, and maybe I just decided to let it play out. If they hurt you—if Michael hurt you—before they realized their mistake in blaming the wrong person, then maybe you’d give up on him once and for all.”

And then he got up on his hands and knees and crawled over me, hovering his face over mine. “Maybe you’d finally knock him off that pedestal you always put him on and see him for what he really is.”

“Which is what?” I bit out.

“Lesser than me.”

And then he popped his head up, as if hearing something. He shot off the bed and walked around the room, gazing out the windows.

“The only mistake I made,” he commented, peering out into the night, “was quoting my father that night in the forest. Otherwise you may never have figured it out.”

My body shook with fear, and I tilted my head back, squirming as I pulled against the ropes again.

“So what’s your plan now?” I demanded. “What could you hope to accomplish by this? Michael has everything that belongs to me—the house, the deeds, everything— and you’ll never get me back. I’d rather die than let you near me again.”

“You think I want you back?” He turned, folding his arms over his chest. “My brother’s whore?”

He chuckled to himself and walked over to me.

“Oh, no,” he replied, looking smug. “I can do so much better than you. And as for Michael having everything, that’s easy. The dead don’t own property.”

The dead? Did he mean…?

If Michael were dead, everything would revert back to Mr. Crist. And if Trevor no longer wanted me to get at what was mine, then, for him to get everything, I would also have to be…

Michael.

I jerked at the ropes, trying to pull my wrists free. “Fuck you!” I cried out, feeling the burn of my tears fall across the spot on my cheek where he’d hit me. My wrists stung from the layer of skin I’d probably worn away, but I growled, thrashing and pulling at them harder and harder.

“Listen,” Trevor chirped. “Do you hear that?”

I didn’t stop, but I heard it. It was a high-pitched motor, and it was getting louder.

Nearer.

A speedboat.

I stilled. No.

“He’s coming,” Trevor said, excitement in his eyes.

And then he held up his wrist, checking his watch. “It’s eleven oh-eight, baby,” he announced and then leaned down, close to my face. “By eleven-thirty, you both will be on your way to the bottom of the ocean.”