Page 48 of Buried Beneath Sin

“I’ll just make myself at home for a bit,” he says with a boyish smile.

He reallyispretty. With wavy blond hair that’s just long enough to tuck behind his ears, pouty lips that shine with gloss, and manicured brows—Knox certainly stands out. Especially in a place like Chasm, a small town set in its traditional views and values. You’d never find a man in town wearing the sheer, lacy long sleeve shirt and designer pants Knox wears so casually, nor would anyone drop the amount of money on those Italian leather shoes on his feet or on the plethora of gold bracelets on each wrist. He’s a perfect balance of masculine and feminine. Knox must know he stands out. He didn’t seem all that surprised by Trevor and Sebastian’s cruelty. In fact, he’d looked more amused than worried. I can’t help but admire his courage.

As I leave him, I wonder how old Knox is. He can’t be much older than me. At least he doesn’t look like it.

With a sigh, I head to my room. In my closet, I grab a shoebox from the top shelf and pull it down. I open the lid, throw it to the ground, and grab the light pink cable knit sweater inside. I lift it, letting the rest of the box follow the top to the floor.

The sweater is old and smells a bit, but I bring it to my face and breathe in its scent.

Long ago, it smelled like my mother. Well, like her during a time when she cared about her hygiene. I can still see her wearing it, smiling down at me as she braided my hair. Thememory is a bit hazy now, but it’s one of my favorites. One I’ve been clinging to the longest because during that time my mother had loved me. I used to be able to feel that same love whenever I held this sweater close. But that feeling is gone now, just like her.

With a sigh, I drop the sweater away from my face and carry it out of the room. I head up to the third floor next and grab Patrick’s wallet and favorite shirt. This stuff holds no sentimental value for me, but it did for Patrick. The rest of their belongings can be trashed. But this stuff? It can burn.

When I return to the first floor, I head for the door and throw the stuff in a pile beside it.

“Hey, Starr Girl, can I open a bottle of wine?” Knox’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

A brief moment of annoyance comes and goes. While I’m not thrilled he’s poking his nose around, Ididtell him he could go in there.

In any case, a glass of wine sounds nice. I haven’t had one in so long—too afraid being tipsy would leave me vulnerable around the others that lived in this house. I guess I could enjoy a glass before heading down and taking care of erasing my mother and her husband from the face of this earth.

Rather than call back, I enter the kitchen to find Knox sitting on the counter having already opened a bottle of red. That was one of Patrick’s favorites. He’s not around, so I suppose he won’t miss it. Knox lifts the bottle as he finishes pouring his own glass.

“Want me to pour you one?” he asks cheerfully.

I stare at him for a moment. There’s something about Knox that is endearing and cute. Under the gaze of his bright blue eyes, which are striking and seem to take in all of me at once, I feel a little flustered. He’s no Chase, who was tall, dark haired, and handsome. But Knox has this energy and charm about him, and he radiates friendliness. I’m strangely drawn to him.

With a half-nod, I concede. “Sure.”

Knox reaches behind him, opens the cabinet, and pulls out another glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I've opened this. The texts I’m getting from my friends are stressing me out.”

I stroll over and take my glass once he’s filled it. Leaning my back against the island, I study him over the rim as I lift the glass to my lips. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, they just… They want to move today. Like I have the energy to dothat.” His eyes widen incredulously as before he winces. “First they get me up early for a funeral they don’t show up to, and now this? They must be crazy.”

I wouldn’t say ten o’clock in the morning was early, but maybe Knox is on a different schedule than I am. I tip the glass back and the wine slides across my tongue. It’s not great stuff, but I appreciate it all the same.

“Where are you moving to?” I ask curiously.

“Here to Chasm,” Knox says before tipping his head back and downing half his glass. I blink in surprise.

I scoff. “You want to movehere? Why?”

“Eh, it's complicated.” Knox rolls his eyes dramatically. He looks at me pointedly then, his pupils narrowing. “Have you been here your whole life?”

My stomach knots uncomfortably. I don’t want to talk about my life. It’s not a great one. Instead of replying, I simply nod and take a sip of wine. Knox doesn’t take the cue. He presses.

“Why? Judging by the conversations I overheard, there’d be no love lost if you were to leave.”

At this I can’t stop my wince. Knox shoots me a look that appears a lot like pity. I wave a dismissive hand and look away.

“Well, there’s no way you stayed because of your parents,” he continues. “Judging by the lack of makeup running down your face and by your dismissal of my condolences, you’re not upset they’re dead.”

It’s not a question, but Knox is prying. I don’t like it. He's a stranger and I… I don’t want to have a pity party. I’m in a new chapter of my life, one where I don’t have to dwell on the negative people who are no longer here. Rather than continue this line of conversation, I shift the topic back to him.

“Life is what kept me here. In any case, I hope you end up liking it here.” I doubt he will though. Not only will the people of Chasm make him feel very uncomfortable, but there’s not a lot to do around here.

Knox raises a brow. “You’re not going to ask me any more questions? Like what I’ll be doing here for work, what house I’m moving into, and what I did before coming here?”

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