Page 12 of Sinister Legacy
She bites her plump lip like she always does when she’s horny. It’s her calling card. But for once, I’m more intrigued by the girl across the room than Hayley’s poor attempts at seduction. But then again, when she strokes her hand over my cock through my jeans, it hardens. I keep my eyes locked on Keira while she stares at nothing, deaf to the conversation around her.
“Wanna go somewhere?” Hayley whispers, dragging her long nails over my rock-hard dick.
I don’t look away from Keira. “No, you can touch me here.”
She squeezes me, and I stare intently at the girl with the dead gaze. Those empty eyes flick up to mine, causing my dick to jump inside my jeans.
Hayley rubs me firmly, her calculating eyes following my line of sight. “You like her.”
“You talk too much.”
“You’re never this hard with me.”
Keira gets up from Liam’s lap, whispering something in his ear, before walking out of the cafeteria.
I shove Hayley off. “That’s enough.”
Her smirk is cruel as she watches me leave the cafeteria. I’m pent-up and frustrated.
Maybe I should think this through.
Have a plan of some kind.
But the restless monster in me wants to sniff out her darkness. I don’t even think as I set off after her.
She enters the bathroom, and I follow her inside, my boots soundless on the dirty floor. The air stinks of cheap, citrusy air freshener and damp walls. Keira has shut herself in the bathroom stall closest to the wall.
I stop outside the door and listen to the tinkling sound of her peeing, followed by the flush of the toilet. Strangely, I like to be this close to her while she does something as intimate as using the toilet.
The power I hold over her now, alone in a dirty toilet with Jimmy Hill’s daughter—the girl with the dead eyes—has my dick throbbing.
Moving my hand down to my pocket, I palm the handle of my knife, anticipation curling around my heart.
She slides the bolt back and opens the door.
I step out of the cubicle and swipe at my wet cheeks. I’m angry with myself for crying at school. Jessica is dead. The papers call it a home invasion, but rumors claim it was something more sinister. In the meantime, there’s nothing we can do but wait for the police report.
I’m shaken up and assaulted by memories at every turn. I wish my brain had an off switch, but it doesn’t.
Stepping up to the sink, I switch on the tap and let the ice-cold water ground me. I keep my hands there until I lose feeling. Only then do I switch the tap off and reach for a paper towel.
My eyes widen as I look in the mirror. King stands behind me with his dark hood pulled low over his brown eyes.
I start to whirl around, but he’s faster. My hipbones dig into the sink as he puts a sharp blade to my throat and fists my hair.
It hurts.
“One word,” he whispers, watching me in the mirror. “One word, and I stop.” The blade digs into my throat as he breathes me in. “What’s it going to be?”
“Reaper,” I reply, unsurprised by the pulsing in my pussy. Looks like a bigger predator than my stepdad found me, after all.
“Good choice.” He spins me around, forcing me back with the sharp blade pressed to my throat. The sink digs into my lower back, and it hurts to bend this far.
Shoving his hand inside my jeans and panties, he rams two thick fingers inside me. It burns like hell, but I widen my stance like a whore.
“There she is,” he breathes out, finger-fucking me so hard that I’m struggling to catch a breath. The sharp knife digs into my throat as warm blood trails a slow path down my chest and between my breasts. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
“Fuck you!” I hiss, and he pulls his hand out and slaps me hard across the cheek. Hard enough to stun me.
