Page 1 of Sins Of Her Sister

Prologue

They always told me, “Ryan, trouble’s going to follow you everywhere.” What they didn’t tell me was that trouble would come in the shape of my 5’6, raven haired, bitch of a step-sister. She loves to put on this innocent act, but, I can see straight through her facade. The fake smile she shows off or how her eyes lose their light sometimes. It seems the more I hate her, the more obsessed I become. I want to combine our fires and blow her life up in flames. I bet she’d be so pretty when she cries. If I had only known the hell she was going to unleash when I least expected it.

Chapter 1

Layla

Eyes coming back into focus, I realize I’m on the edge of the woods by the playground me and my best friend, Julie, used to play at daily. I check my phone and I realize it's eleven at night. I don't know what’s been happening to me lately. I keep blacking out and forgetting everything that happens. Last thing I remember was tonight, me and my mom got into it. She called me a worthless piece of shit and said I was the reason my father was dead. I don't understand why she would say that. Mom never talked about his death. I just remember bits and pieces of attending his funeral. After our argument and crying for a good thirty minutes, I went and laid down around nine and dozed off to sleep. Looking down at my clothes, I notice my jeans are covered in mud and there are scratches running down my arms.

These episodes are becoming more and more frequent. I don't know how to control them. The one thing I know for certain is that no one can ever find out. I learned a long time ago that showing any type of vulnerability is showing weakness. I know one person who would take every advantage to destroy my life–my step-sister, Ryan. My mom married her dad when we were eight years old and she has hated me ever since, doing everything she could to make sure I am miserable.

Sneaking back into the house so my mom and step-dad don’t hear, I tiptoe up the stairs to my room. As I round the corner, I’m suddenly slammed into a wall. I timidly look up to find my stepsister glaring at me with her icy blue eyes and a sinister smirk on her pretty face.

“Layla, Layla…sweet little Layla. What could you possibly be doing, sneaking in the house so late at night?” she asks, slightly tilting her head. I freeze on the spot, trying to come up with a believable answer.

“Julie needed my help with a project due tomorrow,” I stutter. My stuttering would normally be a dead giveaway, but Ryan has always made me stutter with nervousness.

Her long, blonde hair is as white as snow. She really is beautiful–she’s just a bitch. Too bad I’d never have the balls to tell her that. Ryan pushes her body further into me, making me take a step back.

“What would dear old Mommy say if she knew her sweet little angel was breaking curfew?” Ryan drawls.

It’s no secret that my mom has high expectations, and anything less is unforgivable in her eyes. Ryan is trying to get under my skin and I’m allowing her. Growing tired of her taunting and the way this night has unfolded, I shove past her and go to my room. As I close my door, I can hear Ryan silently cackling at her relentless taunting.

After showering and crawling into bed, my heart has calmed down and I am able to relax. It’s going to be fine, I try to convince myself. I turned eighteen in July and it’s my last year in high school. Our first day of school is tomorrow. All I have to do is get through this year; then I can leave this shithole of a town and my nightmare of a step-sister behind. I just have to survive the year, I tell myself. One damn year, Layla. You can do it.

Chapter 2

Ryan

Whoever said school should start so fucking early can go straight to hell. Of course, it doesn't help that I stayed up late working on the senior art project I was assigned over the summer for college applications. Luckily enough for me, I was up to catch little Miss Perfect sneaking in past curfew. Was I going to rat her out to her mom? Well, no. Snitches get stitches, after all. Although, taunting her as panic washed over her face was worth all of the sleep I lost last night. The way her green eyes go wide with fear and the nervous stutter when she speaks. It makes my heart palpitate. It’s our last year together and I am going to make sure it’s the best year we’ve ever had. Torturing her will be the cherry on top.

Throwing on my black Converse, ripped jeans, and black crop top, I head downstairs. My dad looks up from the kitchen, eyeing my choice of clothing. He’s never been shy about expressing his disapproval of how I dress because I’m plus-sized. I feel confident in my curves. I believe that if you got it, flaunt it.

“Ryan, I’ve said this before. Don’t you think you should cover up more?” He looks up from over the top of his glasses. I sigh heavily, rolling my eyes.

“Careful, Dad, your fat phobic issues are starting to shine through,” I reply sarcastically, grabbing my backpack and water. He scoffs loudly as I walk out thefront door.

Once outside, I see Layla’s boyfriend pulling up. Carson King. 6’3, built, blonde haired, blue eyed, and captain of the football team. Also the hottest guy at our school. As he gets out of his car, I smirk when his eyes roam my body.

“What’s up, Ryan? Need a lift to school?” he excitedly asks as I walk up to him, dancing my fingers along his chest.

“I don’t think your little girlfriend would like me riding along,” I tease, playfully poking his pecs with every word. I don’t have a particular interest in Carson, but I love riling Layla up. He bites his lips, watching my fingers skitter across his chest. At that moment, an idea forms into my head. I lean in to whisper in his ear, purposely taking my time, until the front door slams, making Carson jump back. Silently laughing, I turn around to see Layla stomping toward the car.

“Did you need something, Ryan?” Layla asks as my best friend, Blaze, pulls up, his music blasting too loud for this time of day.

“Nope, my ride’s here!” I skip to his blacked-out Jeep and jump in, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. We have been best friends since we were in diapers. Though my feelings are strictly platonic, Blaze is good at helping me relieve some stress as needed. As he pulls out of the driveway, I blow Layla and Carson a mocking kiss and flip them off as we drive away. The scowl on Layla’s face was enough to make my whole day.

“One of these days, that “I don’t give a fuck” attitude is going to get you into loads of trouble,” Blaze says, shaking his head.

“But my attitude is why you love me.” I bat my eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet, but very fake smile.

“That’s very true.” Blaze shrugs. Anyone who didn’t know Blaze and I would think we were a couple. We have always been affectionate with each other and never gaveany fucks what anyone had to say. I don’t know why I can’t see past our friendship. At a buff 6 '5, he has beautiful hazeleyes that any girl could get lost in, brown curly hair, a perfect dimpled smile, and a badass personality to go with all of it. Did I mention he’s great in bed and at giving head? My best friend is the total package, just not my type of package.

Chapter 3

Layla

“Babe, it was nothing! I promise,” Carson explains on the way to school, switching his eyes back and forth from me and the road.

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