Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3)

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Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3) Page 4

by Penelope Douglas


  I cocked an eyebrow, angry and knowing I had no good reason to be. There was a reason I kept her a secret. A reason I didn’t let any other girl in my room and forced her to wear my old clothes, bind her body, and would never tell my friends my sister was the only woman who would ever sleep in my bed.

  I knew I was fucked up.

  I just didn’t care. As long as I was happy, I didn’t explain myself to anyone.

  When she turned away, I knew she’d given up the argument, and I continued into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I stripped out of my pajama pants and climbed in, washing and shampooing. I rinsed under the hot spray, bending my head forward and letting the water run down the back of my neck.

  I closed my eyes, my fingers pressing into the wall. It’s only a matter of time, though. My senior year just started last month, but it was my last year at home. Next summer, I’d be leaving for college, and Banks wouldn’t be going with me. I should let her set up her own room. Get us both used to the space. We had plenty of empty bedrooms for her to choose from, after all.

  And I had no doubt she’d adjust easily and even love having her own room.

  No, the problem was me. She was mine. She was the only person who knew everything, but we were growing up, and I knew she was going to leave me eventually.

  I dug my fingers into the wall, feeling a face—anyone’s face—fill my hand as I tried to crush it in my fist. The familiar burn crawled up the back of my neck, into my head, and I could feel heat rush through my dick, every inch of my skin begging not to feel anything I was feeling right now.

  I needed to get out of here.

  Finishing rinsing, I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the shelf to my left. I dried off, pulled on my jeans and T-shirt, and walked back into the bedroom, drying my hair on the way.

  “I did the math problems and updated your research log,” Banks told me, sifting through papers on a desk I never used and slipping folders into my bag. “You need to recopy the math in your handwriting, though, and don’t forget to do the reading in Physics for your test today. At least absorb enough to pass.”

  I tossed the towel down and picked up my black hoodie, sliding my arms through. “I always pass. Ever notice that?” I shot her a look before pulling the hoodie over my head. “I could piss all over that test and still pass.”

  I heard her laugh under her breath. “Yeah, it’s almost like they don’t want to do anything that will keep you at that school longer.”

  Nope. I would never fail a test, much less a class. The administration was practically counting the days until I was gone. They would never hold me back.

  I did whatever classwork I was inclined to in order to keep people off my case, but Banks did the homework, projects, and papers. It wasn’t that I was lazy—I worked my ass off for the basketball team—I just didn’t care. And it was too damn hard to force myself to do anything I wasn’t invested in. I was selfish and completely fine with that.

  Taking the bag from her with my uniform inside, I slung it over my head and stuffed my wallet, phone, and keys into the pocket. I walked out of the room and closed the door, not even half-way down the short, hidden staircase before I heard the click of the lock on the other side of my door behind me. She knew the drill.

  It normally didn’t occur to me to care that my house wasn’t exactly a safe place for pretty, young girls, but I didn’t want anyone messing with Banks. That door stayed locked until she was dressed and had her guard good and up.

  Swinging around the bannister, I headed through the foyer, down a few more steps, and into the dining room, straight for the table.

  “Good morning,” someone chirped.

  I blinked, aggravated. Some girl stood just out of the corner of my eye dressed in the standard white button-down the servants wear, but she must be new. I grabbed a slice of bread from the tray and began piling it with some eggs and bacon, then stuffing some water bottles from the rows on the table into my bag for the day.

  Our cook, Marina, placed a silver bowl of fruit on the table.

  “When is my father back?” I asked, tearing off the crust on the bread.

  “Tomorrow evening, sir.”

  “Would you like something in particular for dinner tonight, Mr. Torrance?” the girl piped up again.

  Jesus Christ.

  I folded the bread in half, keeping everything tucked inside as the girl waited for an answer. I took a bite, shot Marina a look, and walked out, hearing her scold the new girl as I left.

  Life felt like hell, because we expected it to feel like heaven. The quote I read years ago went something like that, but I never understood it. When you’re in the thick all your life, living in ways you eventually figure out no one else is, you learn to sleep well in heat and eat fire. Until one day it’s all you need.

  It was heaven I didn’t trust. High hopes and false expectations…

  No, I needed the trouble.

  I pinched the cigarette butt between my three fingers, feeling my phone vibrate for the second time in my back pocket as I brought my hand up to my mouth and took another drag. The faint sizzle of the paper burned to the end, the hot smoke being pulled into my lungs, and I blew it out again as I leaned against the column next to the bulletin board.

  The school was still mostly empty, at least forty-five minutes to the bell.

  And the third floor was my favorite place. The bustle of the cafeteria and gymnasium were far below, and there were very few classrooms up here, so it was quiet enough that you could hear every footstep. Every door. Every pen drop… You knew when you weren’t alone.

  And she wasn’t alone. I wondered if she’d noticed that yet.

  I turned my head and peered around the edge of the column, seeing the blur of her through the glass, across the open air, which allowed for the courtyard below, and through another set of windows. She’d gotten a little too big for her britches, but that was common with new teachers, especially the young ones. They thought college prepared them for this, and even if it did, it didn’t prepare them for Thunder Bay. Things worked a little differently here, and she wasn’t the boss, because I couldn’t be handled. It was time to educate her that teachers fell in line, not the other way around.

  She moved in the room, making her copies at the machine, and I licked my lips, my mouth going dry. Come on. Go somewhere quiet, or I’m taking you right there.

  Images of her loose, little bun coming down. Those legs in heels as she was bent over a table…

  My phone vibrated again, and I blinked hard, swallowing through my parched throat. Goddamn him.

  Gritting my teeth, I dug out my phone, swiped the screen, and held it to my ear. “Fuck off.”

  “Well, top of the fucking morning to you, Grouch,” Will said. “What’s your problem?”

  I swallowed again, raising my eyes to the prize once more. “Nothing my dick can’t solve if you leave me alone for ten minutes,” I told him, staring at her. “What do you want?”

  “To make you smile.”

  I frowned. To make me… Jesus, fuck. I rolled my eyes. But just like that, I almost gave in. He had a gift for smoothing out my edges and really fucking quick, too.

  “Haha. I can hear you smiling.” I could hear his amusement. The laughter always present in his voice.

  “You can hear me smiling, huh?”

  He was the only one—the only one—who didn’t walk on eggshells around me, and I damn near killed him for it a few times, but now I barely did anything without him. “I told you,” he pointed out. “We’re connected. It’s spiritual and shit.”

  I let out a little grin he couldn’t see. “I fucking hate you.”

  Idiot.

  Will, Michael, and Kai were my friends, and I’d walk through fire for any one of them. Will was the only one, though, who I was sure would walk through fire for me.

  “So, what is she wearing?” he asked.

  I kept my eyes on her, following her as she left the copy room and
started down the hallway. “An engagement ring.”

  “Kinky.”

  I laughed to myself and took a step and then another, matching her pace as she walked down one hallway and me another. “Be even kinkier if she were wearing the wedding dress, too.”

  “I’ll take a piece of that.”

  “You’re welcome to it. I’m good about sharing.”

  And sometimes sharing was necessary. When it came to women, I didn’t always keep my promises. Will finished them off if I lost interest.

  She was approaching the corner and would turn left. It was almost time.

  “Gotta go,” I told him. “Meet you in the parking lot at seven-thirty.”

  “Yeah. I left my gym bag in your car, so I need to get it before practice. See you—”

  I didn’t let him finish. I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up, never taking my eyes off her. She rounded the corner and reappeared through the windows perpendicular to me, making her way closer and closer. Pulling to a stop, I slid my phone back into my pocket, leaned my shoulder into the wall, and slipped my hands into the center pocket of my hoodie, waiting for her.

  She took another left, briefly disappeared from sight, and reappeared again, stopping as soon as she spotted me.

  “Mr. Torrance,” she said.

  I nodded once. “Miss Jennings. You wanted to see me?”

  She took a step back, looking around her. I wasn’t sure if it was instinctive or if she was confused, but it amused me. She wore a short-sleeved, black V-neck dress that hugged every curve, far from the little cardigans and floral, knee-length skirts she wore at the beginning of the school year. A first-year teacher who started out looking very much wife-of-the-town-pastor seemed to like the lustful eyes of her teenage male students on her and couldn’t help but dress for it now. She still wore her glasses and her hair in tight, little buns, though.

  She swallowed, a blush crossing her cheeks. “Um, during school hours, yes. I’m, uh…” She dropped her eyes, shifting in her black heels, and I held in my smirk. While she dressed sexier now, she was still shy.

  And I loved that. Confidence annoyed me. I didn’t like being hunted.

  “Well, you’re here, I suppose,” she said, giving me a curt smile. “Come in.”

  I followed her into the classroom, feeling the blood suddenly pump a little warmer through my body.

  This was what it took for me.

  There were any number of girls downstairs right now. Girls my own age. The cheerleaders, the gymnastics team, the work-study students in the cafeteria… I could get laid in five minutes if I wanted to, but sex for me had little to do with my body.

  It was right here. With my eyes on her back. With the door I closed and locked behind me. With the fear and the attraction and the danger I felt rolling off her at being alone with me. With the idea that she’d have to look at me every day for the rest of the year until I graduated, knowing what she’d let me do to her today and the panic that she let it happen but also the desire of wanting it to happen again.

  Sex for me was in the head. Almost entirely.

  She set her little pile of papers on her desk and turned around, her eyes darting to the door she just realized I’d closed. A heavy pause followed, and I saw her body go rigid, but she pressed on.

  She threaded her fingers in front of her body and put on her stern face. A pretty cute attempt for a twenty-three-year-old who thought the seventeen-year-old guy in front of her who was broader—and half-a-foot taller—actually saw her as an authority figure.

  I took the two steps to reach the first desk in the front row and planted my ass on the edge.

  “Look, I’m not skilled at beating around the bush,” she said, “so let’s just cut to the chase.”

  I stared at her.

  “There is a significant difference between the work you complete at home and the work you complete in class,” she continued. “And I notice the difference in the handwriting, as well. I’m not going to ask you to defend yourself, because we both know what’s really going on, and I’m not going to waste either of our time.”

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  She paused, licking her lips and clearing her throat. “All I’m going to say is ‘stop’.” She tipped her chin down at me. “Do the work, or you won’t pass.”

  Uh-huh. I kept my eyes on hers, but I could still see the hard, little points of her nipples jutting through her dress. Maybe it was cold. Maybe it wasn’t. I just wanted to see them.

  My breathing quickened and my cock started to swell with the image of her undressed, and I ground my teeth together to keep my urges in check for as long as possible.

  When I didn’t reply, she prompted me. “Do you understand?”

  I cast my gaze upward again, imagining her glossy red lipstick smeared all over my pillow from being ‘face down, ass up’ in my bed all night. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

  She stood there, looking confused like she didn’t expect it to go that smoothly, but then nodded and offered me a goodwill half-smile. “Okay, then. Have a good day,” she said, dismissing me.

  I almost snorted. We weren’t done.

  My turn.

  “May I ask you a question?” I said, pulling up a picture of her on my phone. “Is this you?”

  I stood up and strolled over to her, not stopping until I was close enough to look down at her. Her eyes shot from the phone in my hand up to me and back down again in our suddenly intimate space, trying to take a step back but only meeting her desk.

  I held it up, speaking softly. “You don’t look a lot different.”

  She swallowed again. It was one of many pictures I found on her social media, apparently from after her junior year of high school when she was away at summer camp. She posed with friends on her bunk, smiling and innocent, hair down, tan legs in cute jean shorts, no makeup and braces…

  She pursed her lips. “I know how to use mascara now.”

  Turning her back to me, she lifted the chalk and began writing on the board.

  “You’re blushing,” I commented. “Are you embarrassed?”

  “That’s enough.”

  Young Miss Jennings was a dork, but she had potential. I let my eyes wander down the curve of her waist to her ass and sexy legs. Obviously.

  “You see, I’m not lazy or dumb,” I said, coming up behind her, just out of reach. “I’m just not interested in doing anything I don’t enjoy. But things I love doing?” I lowered my voice, playing with her. “I could go all night, Miss Jennings.”

  She twisted her head to the side again, her hand paused mid-sentence on the chalkboard. Her mouth opened and closed twice before words came out. “I have work to do.”

  I shot out my hand, planting it on the board in front of her and leaning in so close, her hair tickled my lips. “Guys like me didn’t go for you in high school, did they?” I taunted in a low voice. “No one ate you out in the backseat of a car. No one took off your panties and dry-humped you on your parents’ couch while they were in the next room.” I slowly ran my finger over the zipper at the back of her dress as her body went rigid and her breathing turned shallow. “No one sucked your tits and made your pussy wet on someone else’s bunk beds in a room upstairs at some party in a house you didn’t know.”

  She whipped around, her teeth slightly bared. “I’m going to report you.”

  “Please don’t.” I smirked. “If I were there, though, I would’ve broken your cherry.” I dropped my voice to a whisper, leaning in. “I like the quiet ones.”

  She shook her head, the brown of her eyes warm and dark. “I was warned about you boys. This won’t get you an A. Someday you’ll learn the world will make you work for something you want.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind working.” I planted my other hand on the board at the side of her head and looked down at her.

  My little Lit teacher was only six years older than me, and while every guy in school loved to look at her, I was the one who would have her, because nothing else would d
o. I was bored. So bored all the time with the brainless twits downstairs who never said ‘no’ and couldn’t satisfy the sordid need inside me to be deviant in everything I did. I didn’t want to fuck. I wanted to get dirty, and I wanted to get her dirty. I didn’t want to be the only one who…

  I couldn’t finish the thought. My friends—as much as they liked to play at being bad, they were still always clean. Their desires were normal, getting off was physical, and fun was just around the corner.

  But for me, everything was harder. I couldn’t detach from my brain, and I wasn’t happy unless it was a mindfuck. I didn’t want Miss Jennings to enjoy it. I wanted her to hate that she enjoyed it.

  I inched in, holding her eyes and moving in for her mouth.

  But she planted her hands on my chest, halting me. “Stop it.”

  I let the weight of my body slowly press into hers, the heat of her breath falling on my mouth as I shook my head.

  She breathed faster, her eyes dropping to my lips, and I could see that look on her face that I’d seen a hundred times before. Everyone lets themselves indulge in a moment of consideration.

  “I don’t need an A, and I’m not afraid of what you can do to me,” I said, flicking her top lip with my tongue and hearing her whimper. “I just want you to slide up your dress, lie down on the desk, and spread your legs like a good teacher who just wants her student to eat his breakfast.”

  She growled, raised her hand, and fucking slapped me.

  But I barely moved, the sting of her hand filtering down into my neck within seconds.

  Grabbing both of her wrists, I held them against the chalkboard at her side, trying to hold in my grin. “You just hit a minor. It hurt, Miss Jennings.”

  Her chest rose and fell hard as she seethed and tried to squirm out of my hold.

  “I know you want this.” I let my eyes fall down her body. “Your skirts are getting tighter. Your tops lower cut. You’re not my first rodeo. I know how to keep this a secret.”

  “No matter what a woman wears, she’s not asking for it.”

  “So that’s not you then?” I gestured my head toward the windows. “Peering down from the window when the team’s exercising on the field? Watching me?”

 

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