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Nightfall: Chapter 36

Emory

Present

“Emmy, wake up!” someone called, shaking my body.

My eyes popped open, and I startled, turning over. “What? Who is that?”

It wasn’t Will’s voice.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes as someone turned on the lamp, and I looked up, seeing Rory and Micah walking around my room.

I reached for my new glasses and slipped them on. “What are you guys doing?”

“Will’s been arrested.” Micah tossed me some clothes. “He started a fire at the Cove.”

Huh? “The Cove?”

I held the clothes to my chest, trying to make sense out of what they were telling me, my chest slowly constricting.

He started a fire at the Cove? And he was now sitting in jail?

Son of a bitch. I growled, shooting off the bed. “One day! Not even one day back in town and he’s back in a cell!” I unhooked my overalls and pulled on the black, long-sleeved shirt. “Ugh!”

They spun around, and I dropped the overalls, slipping into the jeans and pulling on Alex’s sneakers before I tied up my hair into a ponytail.

In jail… Tears welled. Not again.

“Do you know who arrested him?” I asked.

“We don’t know this town,” Micah snapped, tossing me a jacket. “Damon is going to try to get him out, but we told him to wait. We wanted to get you.”

I shook my head. “I’m going to kill him. What the hell is wrong with him?”

I zipped up the jacket and headed out of the room with them, jogging up the stairs.

I should let him sit there. This one was on him. An endless cycle of not being accountable or controlling his behavior. This wasn’t a choice. It was a habit, and I didn’t need this shit in my life.

He was a man? He was going to be a father someday? Yeah, right.

I kicked the door open. Motherf—.

“Let’s go,” I told them, running out of the house and into the driveway.

Damon stood next to a G-Class that looked a lot like the one Michael drove in high school, and I had no idea where everyoneelse was, but he saw me and immediately straightened.

“No way in hell. She’s not coming,” he said.

I grabbed the keys out of his hand and walked around the front of the car. “She’s driving, actually.”

“Nah-uh. No.”

I looked at him over the hood. “What are you going to do?” I challenged. “I sent him to jail. You tried to kill him. You really gonna argue with me right now?”

If I didn’t have a right, then neither did he.

He twisted his lips to the side, giving me that “eyes-falling-down-my body-to-inspect-the-competition-with-a-side-of-judgment” look, but he shut his damn mouth.

I wasn’t any worse for Will than he was, so he could stow it.

We all climbed into the car, and I started it, punching the gas and swerving around the driveway.

Would Martin be there? I knew he didn’t live or work in town anymore, but he still maintained a presence here, and if his police had Will Grayson in a cell, that would almost certainly get him out of bed at this hour.

Shit. I didn’t want to see Martin. I didn’t need to face him. We’d been done.

Will, you’re such an asshole.

I raced through town as Micah filled me in on where they’d all gone tonight and what Will had decided to do. I was tempted to jerk the wheel right on over to the cathedral and disappear—stay somewhere he couldn’t find me— but…

I should’ve gone to him years ago. I was going to show up for him once. At least once before this was over.

Stopping in front of the police station, I looked across the street, seeing a figure behind the desk inside, the neighborhood quiet and not another soul in sight.

“We need a distraction,” I told Damon. “Any ideas?”

He stared out the front window, ignoring me, but then…he dropped his eyes and exhaled, giving in.

He turned his head, speaking to Micah and Rory. “Get out.”

What?

“Hell no,” Rory said. “We’re going in.”

“Get those cars started,” Damon told Micah, turning and meeting his eyes and then pointing to the vehicles parked down the street behind him.

Micah’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

But Damon didn’t explain. Taking out his phone, he dialed and held it to his ear, the other line ringing.

“Mayor Fane?” he teased to Erika, I assumed. “Two idiots are drag racing around Thunder Bay. Can you call the station and tell all units to report to Delphi heading east?” he asked and then clarified. “Alllllll units.”

I heard her voice on the other end. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but it sounded like an angry ferret.

“Don’t be a douche,” he said, picking at the cord of his hoodie. “What else do you do all day anyway?”

More angry chatter.

“Suck me,” he mumbled, and then she said something else, and then he said, “Yeah, your mom…”

He hung up and then looked over his shoulder again at Micah.

“How did you know I was the one who knew how to hotwire a car?” Micah asked.

“Because you’re the one with shit to prove to your loser old man,” Damon retorted. “We can smell our own. Now, both of you, hurry up.”

I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing both of their mouths curl into grins. Yeah, who were they kidding? They liked trouble, too.

Damon withdrew a Slim Jim from under the seat and handed it to them, both of them hopping out of the car and running down the block.

In minutes, headlights illuminated behind us and both cars, a Mustang and a Jeep raced past, disappearing down the avenue.

“What’s the plan?” Damon asked.

I stared at the officer inside the station house. “I don’t know.”

To my surprise, excitement bubbled up from my stomach, and I almost smiled. I had zero clue what the hell I was doing, but I felt like it would work.

“As soon as I get out of the car, slide into the driver’s seat and make sure all doors are unlocked,” I told him. “Got it?”

He nodded, and after a moment, we spotted two police cars exiting the lot from behind the station, their sirens activating as they pulled onto the street.

Erika made the call. Third shift was always light, unless it was Devil’s Night.

“And here we go,” I said.

They headed the opposite direction as Micah and Rory, toward Delphi, and I stepped out of the car, pulling up the hood of my jacket, but then I stopped, and yanked it back off again.

Martin would know I was here. No hiding.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I ran across the street and up the walkway, opening the door and diving inside the station.

The burly officer with a gray buzzcut and glasses looked up from the counter and immediately smiled, seeing me.

“Germaine.” I greeted him first. “Hi.”

“Emory Scott.” He cocked his head, returning the grin. “Wow. How are you doing, honey?”

“Pretty decent,” I told him. “Is my brother around?”

“Uh, no.” He chuckled. “He maintains an office here, but he stays in Meridian City now. Did you not know he was appointed to police commissioner? He oversees all the departments in a hundred-mile radius. Most of his work keeps him in the city now.” He slid some papers into a file folder and stuffed the folder into a drawer. “But he will be here first thing in the morning. He has a prisoner to attend to whom he’s only too delighted to let sweat for the night.”

I bit back my groan. So he knew Will was here.

“Sounds like him,” I teased, trying to hide my unease.

At least he hadn’t dragged himself back to town tonight to deal with it. That worked for me.

“Okay, I’ll try back in the morning,” I sighed, “but just on the off chance I miss him, may I leave this note on his desk?”

I reached for the message pad and the pen next to the computer, but he waved me off.

“Take it back yourself,” he said. “You know the way.”

My eyebrows shot up. Really? I thought I was going to have to try to sneak past him when he took the note back himself, but here I was, getting a hall pass.

I walked around the counter, toward the double doors. “Is he in the big office now?”

“Sounds like him, doesn’t it?” Germaine grumbled.

Yeah. I didn’t think Germaine thought much of my brother, either. Martin was only thirty-four, and he’d quickly risen through the ranks of Thunder Bay and then Meridian City, shrewd in playing his cards, but I suspected he had help and endorsements along the way. Germaine was easily in his fifties and still…manning the desk.

“Thanks,” I called out. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.”

I pushed through the doors, finding the entire precinct empty, a radio playing somewhere, and computers paused on screens.

Making my way toward the holding cells, I grabbed a ring of keys off Bruckheimer’s desk and looked up, making direct eye contact with the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

I clenched my teeth. This better work. If he came after Will, he’d have to come after me, too, now that I’d been seen, and that would be embarrassing for him.

Pushing through the door, I saw Will standing in the cell, alone in the room with his arms draped through the bars.

I dropped my eyes, finding the key, my heart thundering in my chest. We just had to get out of here.

I didn’t want to know if he had a cell to himself in prison, or if Kai or Damon were with him. I just wanted him out.

I stuck the key in the lock, my hand shaking as he stared down at me, and I twisted it, yanking the door open.

But Will pulled it closed again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Dammit. I twisted the key again and pulled the door, but he fisted the bars, holding it closed.

“I have a meeting with your brother in the morning,” he stated.

What the hell? I shot my eyes up to him and fixed my glasses, wanting to yell at the jerk, but we needed to get the hell out of here.

I pulled at the door again, growling when it didn’t give.

“Who let you out of your room?” he asked.

“Will!” I begged. “Please!”

We could talk later, for crying out loud.

I tried to pull at the door again, but he reached through the bars and grabbed me by my jeans instead, yanking me in. His mouth crashed down on mine, and for a moment, I was lost in how good he felt.

God.

My nerves were on fire. I wanted him out of here. I wanted him away from Martin.

I wanted him…

I wanted him.

I whimpered as his tongue caressed mine, and I barely even registered what he was doing until cool air hit my breasts and his hand slid down my jeans, between my legs.

He stroked me, his head dipping down and sucking my breast into his mouth through the fucking bars.

“We’re going to get caught,” I said.

He wasn’t listening, though. He came back up, and I held his face as he hovered over my mouth and slipped his fingers over my clit.

“I’m glad you didn’t visit me in prison,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand staring at this through a piece of fucking glass for over two years.”

I kissed him, feeling the goddamn torture of the bars between us.

Never again.

“Breaking me out of jail?” he taunted. “He’s going to hang you for this.”

I kissed him again, panting, “He has to get through you first, right?”

He smiled, his ego liking the sound of that. “Yeah, he does.”

“Please, baby.” I pulled at the bars. “Please?”

I kissed him again, moaning, and finally, he released me. “Fuck him. Let’s go.”

I stumbled back, righting my clothes again, and he swung open the door, taking my hand and pulling me.

We ran back into the office area, and I tossed the keys back onto Bruckheimer’s desk as we raced through the rear door and out into the night.

Digging in our heels, we hurried across the street, darts of cold rain hitting my head as we made our way to the waiting car.

“Get in!” Damon yelled. “Hurry!”

We jumped into the backseat, slamming the door, and Damon hit the gas, speeding off down the road. I dove into the third-row bench seat, looking out the back window for any sign that we were seen, but there was no one coming after us. Lightning pierced the sky as droplets wet the ground.

I whipped around, no longer sad or soft or panting after Will. I was mad. “What the hell were you thinking?” I growled.

Damn him. I may have gotten caught up in that kiss inside, but sex was never our problem.

“I had a plan,” he explained.

“Did you?”

He twisted around and looked at me. “I’m going to have face him at some point, Emmy,” he shouted. “May as well have fun while I’m at it.”

“We still don’t know who put you in Blackchurch!” I shouted, growing angrier. “If you get into any more trouble, who knows what will happen? You’ve learned nothing! Absolutely nothing. You don’t have any idea how to plan your moves and keep your shit quiet until it’s time to strike. You’re like a bull in a China shop. When are you going to grow up? Demonstrate some patience?”

One fucking night back, and he was already in jail again.

I lost it. “This is why I don’t love you!” I screamed.

And he turned on me, a scowl and piercing glare lighting him on fire.

He jumped into the back seat, pushing me down and coming down on top of me.

“Hell yeah, you love me,” he said, sucking my lips into his mouth. “You’re crazy about me, and you may not be blonde or eighteen or named Heidi, but you’re fucking mine, little trouble.” He pushed up my shirt, yanked down my bra, and covered my nipple with his mouth, sucking hard. “And you can still walk my dogs someday if you want, but I’ll for damn sure be peeling down your panties on my desk and letting you pretend like you don’t love every second of it right before I write you that little check.” He gripped my neck, his other hand trying to rip down my pants as he kissed me. “You’re never getting free of me.”

I pushed at him. “Will…”

“Never.”

He thrust between my legs, sinking his tongue into my mouth, his hot body covering me and making the world spin.

I whimpered.

“Um…” someone said, and I blinked, noticing the car had stopped. “Okay, wow. I…um…I’d love to watch this, actually,” Damon called out, “but Winter will consider it cheating if she’s not here, too. I’ll go ahead and walk home, and you fucking owe me, Will.”

Damon opened the door, the rain coming down hard now, and got out, closing it again.

I shoved at Will, crawling out from underneath him. “I’m walking, too.”

Opening the back door, I jumped out of the G-Class, seeing that we were in the village, and raced in the rain toward the cathedral.

“Oh, surprise, surprise,” Will shouted behind me. “She’s running again.”

I spun around. “It’s called being dumped, Grayson! Watch. I’ll show you what it looks like again.”

I ran harder, glancing up into the little park and noticing a new gazebo where mine once stood.

I narrowed my eyes. What…?

But then arms caught me and whipped me around, Will picking me up. I pounded his chest, feeling him lose his footing, and both of us fell to the ground, the pavement and our clothes soaking as the rain streamed down my face.

I swatted at him again, pushing my glasses up onto the top of my head. “You burned up the Cove!” I yelled.

How could he do that? The gazebo and now that? It was like he was determined to self-destruct and leave nothing of us to remember.

He hauled me into his lap right there in the middle of the street, people sitting under the awning of the White Crow Tavern gasping and rising from their seats to see what was going on.

He sat up, and I straddled him, gripping his collar.

But before I could fight, he said, “I still have the bus.”

The bus.

Our bus?

I paused, looking down into his glistening, sea green eyes as he blinked up at me.

“I don’t need the Cove,” he said over the rain. “I need more memories with you.”

I breathed hard, but I couldn’t move as tears filled my eyes.

“Memories that aren’t tainted with all the years apart right afterward,” he explained.

Everyone watching us from a distance faded away, and I looked down at his hair matted to his scalp and temples, droplets cascading down his cheeks and over his lashes, and all I wanted in the world was to stare at him forever.

“I build with you now,” he whispered to me, the heat of his mouth on my lips. “We make Thunder Bay together, Em. I love you.”

I love you.

I closed my eyes, my face cracking and my eyes filling with tears. God, I was exhausted.

So tired that I longed for the days when Martin beat the shit out of me, because those were also the days I saw Will laughing at school and playing basketball with his friends.

The day he sat with me in the theater and joked around, and the night he took me to ride roller coasters and we were a couple, holding hands. For just a couple of hours.

Sliding off of him, I sat at his side, his words coursing their way through my heart as I wondered where the hell we were going to go from here.

“You came for me,” he said.

Yes. Yes, I did.

I didn’t need to search for an excuse. I knew why.

“I couldn’t lose you anymore,” I told him, staring at the street ahead.

I drew in a deep breath and tipped my head back, letting the rain cool my skin as I thought about my future and all of the things I thought were going to work out for me without him.

I fucking loved Will Grayson. I wanted to eat every meal with him, have that damn Mission: Impossible marathon with him, and let him knock me up as soon and as much as he wanted.

He stood up, standing over me. “I love you,” he said again. “But I’ll let you go.”

He started to walk away, my heart ripping in two, and I shook my head.

No.

He couldn’t let me go. He couldn’t move on without me. Everything we’d been through—everything—meant something. It all meant something.

Didn’t it?

This wasn’t where we ended.

Nothing was over.

“Will you marry me?” I asked, breathing hard and my heart hammering.

Slowly, I climbed to my feet and turned to face him, seeing him stopped.

He stood there, frozen, not turning around, but that was okay. I wasn’t sure I could do this if he looked at me.

God, my mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow.

“I love you,” I said, and I could see people filming us with their phones out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t care. “I’m wild crazy for you, and I’m sure I’ll kill you at some point, but… God, I love you so much, and I want you to marry me.” More tears streamed down my face as I choked out the words. “Marry me, Will Grayson.” I rushed up and hugged his back, wrapping my arms around him. “Can you marry me? Can I marry you?”

I held him, my cheek resting against his back and water catching between my lips.

He was going to laugh. He was probably freaked out or maybe angry I asked him instead of letting him ask me—if those were his intentions anyway.

Shit…

But then, he spun around, picked me up off my feet, and kissed me, pressing his lips to mine and backing me into a parked car.

Laughter went off around us, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, reveling in his strong mouth and the warmth of his body.

I moaned, kissing him again and again. “Is that a yes?”

He chuckled and dropped me to my feet. I blinked against the rain, watching him dig into his pocket for something.

He pulled it out, pinching a vintage Victorian ring with a teardrop diamond and a platinum band encrusted with more jewels, encased by an ornate setting above and below. It was almost like three rings in one, and nearly an inch in width.

“It’s very old,” Will said, slipping it onto my finger, his hand shaking.

“It’s your family’s?”

“It’s yours now.” He met my eyes. “It’s been yours for nearly ten years.”

I stared up at him, tears blurring my vision. He was going to ask me himself?

I took his face in my hands and looked into his eyes, our noses nearly touching as our life up, until this point, played through my head.

The pool at school and the feel of his body in the movie theater.

Dancing at Homecoming and him sweeping me into his arms and carrying me to his bed at Blackchurch.

The intoxicating scent of his truck, and the rain on the bus windows, hiding us inside.

There was so much more than the fights and the pain.

“I’m marrying you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “’Bout time you caught up.”

I started to laugh, diving in and kissing him, cheers going off at the tavern.

Will chuckled against my lips. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

I took his hand, pulling him along. “Come on.”

I knew just the place.

Running toward the cathedral, we splashed through puddles, turned right, and raced into the patch of grass between the church and the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” he called out.

“Hiding us away.”

The main doors would be closed now, but I’d found out years ago that Father Behr never really locked the basement door, so old Mr. Edgerton could sleep off the whiskey here instead of facing his wife hammered.

We dove in, ran down the narrow hallways, and up another set of stairs, entering the nave of the main church. I led Will up to the gallery and hurried to the windowsill, prying up the piece of wood I’d nailed down years ago, picking out that old key with the thurible key chain.

“What is this?” Will asked, looking around for any sign of witnesses.

But I didn’t answer him. I led him through the door, up the concrete stairs, and slipped the key in, opening the door to The Carfax Room.

I quickly looked around, inhaling the musty scent of rain and wood.

Dark, no sign of life, and the bed was still there. I didn’t care about anything else.

Throwing the door closed, I dropped the key and wrapped my arms around Will, nibbling and sucking too fast, because I was too hungry.

“I love you,” I panted, unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down my legs.

He pulled off my shirt, my glasses dropping to the floor with it. “You better.”

Not leaving his mouth, I stripped off my underwear and bra, completely naked as I pulled the rubber band out of my hair and he lifted me into his arms again.

I wrapped myself around him, my cold hair draping across my back as he walked us to the bed.

“Hurry,” I begged.

I throbbed. I wanted him in me.

He let me fall to the bed, tore off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and stripped off the rest of his clothes, his tight abs and black tattoos making my thighs rub together with need.

Mine.

He climbed onto the bed, coming down on top of me, and I just spread my legs as he reached between us, fit inside me and thrust, sheathing his cock. No more waiting.

Ah,” I moaned, arching my back.

“Don’t sleep tonight,” he gasped, pumping his hips and hovering over my mouth. “Don’t break this. Don’t break the spell.”

I rolled into him, heat pooling in my belly as I devoured his shoulder, his neck, and his mouth, unable to get enough.

“I loved you last night,” I told him. “And I loved you this morning. I’ll still be here. I’ll still be me tomorrow and every day after.”

He lifted up, not breaking pace in the least as he stared down between us, watching himself enter me.

“I’m sorry about everything,” I said.

“Me, too, baby.” He kissed me. “I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry I walked away. I’m sorry I left you that day in the hallway at school.”

He hit me deep inside, and my eyes started to roll into the back of my head.

“You and me against the world,” he whispered, picking up speed and going harder.

“Always,” I said.

And I held on as he slipped inside of me again and again, thrusting between my legs, both of us lost for the rest of the night in the warmth and frenzy of finally being together.


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