Page 17 of Sinister Legacy
“At first, it was just your mouth, then your cunt. Until one day, he demanded to fuck your ass.”
“Please…” My voice crackles with pain as I hug my arms around myself and stare up at him through my damp lashes. “Leave me alone.”
“But that’s not the worst part,” the distorted voice says, back to dragging the knife over the stall doors. “A sick, demented part of you looks forward to your weekly visits with Mr. Byrne. It revels in the sting when you sit down in class, and your ass burns with pain.”
My chest racks with sobs, and I press my hands over my ears to tune out his cruel words.
“Such a filthy little whore.”
I scream when he launches himself at me, then kick out with my feet. I don’t stop kicking, and he falls back with a heavy grunt. Jumping to my feet, I run for the door, but he tears the headphones from around my neck and grabs me before I can get there. Leather-gloved fingers dig into my throat from behind, bruising me.
I elbow him in the waist as hard as I fucking can, dashing for the door. It’s locked.
It’s fucking locked…
“No. No. No.” My fingers tremble too much. I finally manage to flip the lock, but it’s too late. The sharp blade sinks into my shoulder, and a searing pain steals my breath. He grabs my neck, pulls me away from the door, and shoves my head into it full force. My teeth rattle from the impact, my temple exploding with pain.
Dazed, I slump to the floor, vaguely aware of my headphones abandoned a few feet away. The monster crouches down in front of me and parts my hair with the knife.
The devil’s mask grins at me.
“If it’s any consolation, I admire your fighting spirit. It will be an honor to include you in this.”
Swallowing through my dry throat, I wince. My head throbs and the dirty floor is sticky beneath my fingers. “Go to hell!”
He presses the knife to my throat, causing me to whimper as I push myself against the door. My heart has ceased to beat, and my stomach has dropped to the floor.
Loud, masculine voices echo through the hallway outside, and the monster in front of me shoots his head up to listen.
I don’t hesitate. I scream, “IN HERE! HELP ME!”
Silence. Then the thunder of heavy footsteps on the floor.
The monster in front of me tears himself away, cursing loudly behind the mask.
Behind me, the door slides open, forcing me to drag myself across the sticky floor away from the entrance. I don’t know how much blood I’ve lost, but it’s pooling on the brown tiles.
When I push myself up to lean against the stall, the masked man is gone, and the window near the roof is wide open.
There’s a cop car parked outside my house when Liam drops me off.
It can only mean one thing.
The past has come back to haunt me.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come inside?” he asks, one hand on the steering wheel, his body half-turned toward me.
My head shakes as I slowly unfasten my seatbelt. “No, it’s fine.”
It has started to rain, and the sickly scent clogs the back of my throat as I place my hand on the door handle.
Before I can push it open, Liam stops me with his fingers on my arm. “Babe, I’m here if you want to talk, okay?”
I look at him over my shoulder, then nod once before stepping outside into the drizzle. The walk to my porch feels like it’s miles long. I try not to think back on that night when the police barged through the front door with their guns drawn, shouting for my father to drop to the floor. I also try not to think of the things they unearthed behind the shed when they dug up the yard.
Why the fuck did we not move?
According to Mom, we can’t afford it.
