Home > Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3)(13)

Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3)(13)
Author: Penelope Douglas

“I look like her.” I heard Rika say. “Don’t I? That’s why you’ve always hated me.”

I hesitated.

Like her. Like Winter.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, same age, same wild purity… Like the innocence of a tornado or a raging hurricane.

“I hate all of you,” I mumbled. I don’t even blink saying the words.

I hate all of you. Hate all of who? Their little group I was once a part of? Women? People, in general? Who knew, and she didn’t ask.

But part of me wanted her to understand.

Jesus Christ.

We needed to get back to business.

She reached for the door, but I called her back.

“Erika?”

I saw her stop out of the corner of my eye as I walked for the cabinet and pulled out one of the two handguns I had stored there. I ejected the magazine from the Glock and checked the chamber to make sure a bullet wasn’t loaded and then held the gun and clip out for her to take.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“It’s untraceable,” I said.

I wasn’t allowed to own firearms, being a felon and all, but oh well.

Her eyes shifted side to side, and she looked confused.

Impatient, I closed the distance between us and pushed the shit into her hands.

“Learn to use it.”

“Why do I need this?” she asked, still holding the handgun like she was debating on whether or not to drop it and run.

“Because my father is smarter than we are. He’ll be onto us eventually. You might need it.”

“So if your dad comes after me, you’re giving me a gun to kill him?” she asked, sounding sarcastic. “So he doesn’t kill me instead?”

I let out a sigh. “Fuck, you’re dumb,” I said. “Like he’d come after you himself. That’s for the guys he’ll send. If anyone kills him, it’ll be me. Now get out.” I jerked my chin toward the door, pulling another cigarette out of the pack. “I’ll call you when I have your shit.”

I lit the end and tossed the lighter onto the table in front of me. “Unless you want to stay,” I said, softening my voice and letting my eyes fall down her body. “Your fiancé is out of town, and it’s my wedding night. We could…play chess.”

And by chess, I meant…

But she just shook her head. “That’s how I know you’re not half as dangerous as you pretend to be,” she said. “You only ever threaten.”

I tapped the cigarette into the ashtray, my mood turning solemn as the smoke streamed into the air. “Sometimes,” I nearly whisper. “And sometimes I mean exactly what I say.” I looked up at her. “So trust me when I say you’ll never escape me. None of you will.”

I watched her, trying so hard to look defiant, but the barest hints of awareness, fear, and doubt still seeped through. She knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

Without a word, she turned and left, leaving the door wide open and letting the music pour in as she disappeared.

Fuck you. This won’t go how you think it will go.

You won’t change me. I’ll change you.

My phone rang, and since Rika just left, there were only two other people who had my number. My father and my security.

“Fuck,” I breathed out as I picked up the phone.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Well done today,” my father said. “I thought for sure I was going to have to strangle you at some point.”

I took a drag and set the cigarette in an ashtray as I blew out the smoke. “I’m sure it would’ve been difficult.”

“Yes, I don’t really want to kill you,” he added. “You’re my only son, after all.”

“No, I mean I’m not eleven anymore.” I grabbed a clean T-shirt and hoodie out of my duffel bag and kicked the door closed again. “I’ll be more difficult to strangle now.”

Prick.

He was silent for a moment, and I could just imagine the look on his face. My father was a master at not losing his cool. He rarely did.

But it would be in his eyes. That hint of aggravation. The distaste for my childishness.

If I weren’t his blood and sole heir, I have no doubt he would’ve killed me long ago.

“The town is buzzing with the news,” he continued, changing the subject. “I want to capitalize on the momentum. The Crists are having an engagement party for Michael and Erika in a week. You’ll go with Ari, and bring the other two, as well. They’re your family now, too, and their reputation needs repair.”

“And they’ll achieve that by showing up with me?” I thought out loud. The irony of my presence helping anyone’s reputation was not lost on me.

“I have to go.” I cut him off. I’d do what he asked, so no argument from me on this one. I wanted to go to the party because everyone would be there.

“Just a heads up…” he told me. “Luka and Dower stopped Winter and some guy on the road tonight. She had a bag packed.”

I stopped, waiting for the rest. “And?”

“And she’s back home where she belongs.”

I relaxed, knowing she wouldn’t have gotten far, but I still needed the confirmation. I knew she would try, though. I hoped she’d try again.

Some guy...

Ethan Belmont. I fisted my hand on instinct. I hope she’d done him. Done him a lot and was still doing him, so I could get an eye full. It would give me one more reason to hate her and to hurt her. It was all the fun I was going to have in this marriage to her sister.

But my father chimed in, as if reading my thoughts. “Let’s make something perfectly clear,” he said. “I want Arion pregnant before the year is out. You know the rules. Do your chores before you play.”

I cocked an eyebrow. I’d never done chores in my life.

“And we need to talk about you taking on some responsibilities with Communica. It’s time you start earning what you’re going to inherit. I need you to come—”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up, tossing it down on the couch. Communica was one of his companies, and nope. He’ll be angry I hung up. He’ll call back later or tomorrow or have his guys drag me back to him for a face to face to finish the conversation, but I didn’t care about any of it.

I’d always had tunnel vision when it came to things I wanted, and it was always one thing at a time. I couldn’t concentrate otherwise.

The choices I made probably wouldn’t ensure me a long life, but it was like I’d always known that, and I’d accepted it. I would die young. I had never thought about working, and the idea of walking into one of Gabriel Torrance’s offices every day made me want to puke.

Maybe I was lazy.

Selfish.

Self-absorbed.

Or maybe my head just wasn’t built for a long life of no consequence. It was “hard and fast” on everything, and I didn’t have the discipline for anything other than a one-track mind.

I changed my clothes, pulling on jeans, a T-shirt, and black hoodie, and then walked over and picked up the black wooden box Rika had held and noticed there was something stuck under the lid, preventing it from closing all the way.

I opened it, nudging the razor blade back inside and hesitating as I surveyed the rest of the items. An assortment of desserts that had been constant and reliable during a time when I was a kid, and they were the only things I could trust.

A paperclip, sewing needle, push pin, pocket knife, scissors, tiger tooth, small animal antler, and a bird skull for the sharp nostril edges. Most of them were sterilized, having not been used in a long time, but my gaze dropped to the lighter, and I absently rubbed my thumb over my index finger, feeling the raised skin from the old burn.

I looked at the push pin. I could sleep tonight. If I really wanted to.

I tapped my fingers silently on the box, indulging in the thought of the temptation, but then I heard a knock on the door, and I blinked, inhaling a deep breath.

“Sir,” Matthew Crane, the lead security detail my father had given me, said behind me. “The extra equipment you asked for is at the site.”

I nodded absently, closing the box and fastening the clasp. “You can go home,” I told him. “I won’t need you for a few days.”

Tucking the box back in the duffel bag, I walked to the sofa and finished getting dressed, lacing up my boots and grabbing my bag, stuffing my suit inside.

“You’re going tonight?” he asked, probably noticing my attire. “You won’t have much light, and it’s supposed to rain, sir.”

I shot him a look as I finished gathering my shit.

He didn’t press further, simply dismissing himself. “Congratulations,” he said. “On your nuptials, I mean. We’ll wait for your call.”

I followed him out the door, he and the other man both flanking me as we descended the stairs and left the club.

They may as well get their rest while they can. When the shit hit the fan, they’d be getting some sleepless nights.

Just like me tonight.

It was time to head back to Thunder Bay.

I’ve done so much more than what I went to prison for—and far worse. Winter has no clue how bad this can get.

Winter

Seven Years Ago

“So you could probably just be homeschooled, huh?” Erika—or, Rika—asked as we treaded down the school hallway slowly.

She led me as I held onto her arm, just above her elbow.

“The textbooks are on audio,” she went on. “And then the teacher sends you the lecture notes, and the computer reads them for you, so…”

“Yeah, my parents would prefer it,” I admitted. “Actually, they would’ve preferred if I’d stayed in Montreal. But I need to learn how to be around people.”

I’d been attending and living at Penoir, a school for the blind in Canada for over five years now, and while I enjoyed it there, comfortable around others who had to live life like I did, I wanted to come home. I wanted to learn to live here again and cope with being who I was now in an average environment. I missed the smell of the sea around our house and the ballroom at home where I always danced.

   
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