Page 24 of Sinister Legacy
She played to win, and she didn’t care who she hurt in the process.
Liam puts his hand on my cold leg, and the warmth of his skin burns through the thin layer of my skirt. My gaze slides away from the coffin to Liam’s tanned, veiny hand and then over to my right.
King is watching me across the church, where he sits in a pew opposite, a few rows in front. He didn’t know Jessica, but his father is close to hers. We may not move in the same social circles, but King’s family is still one of the wealthiest families in town.
When I die, he’ll be here, too. Pretending he gives a shit.
His lips tilt upward in a sinful smirk, the kind of smirk that brings back memories of last night, when he hauled me out of bed and fucked me against the window, in full view of the cop car. The icy glass licked at my bare tits while I came on his cock.
Again, and again.
King hides a monster behind those dark eyes. I have to admit, he looks hot in a suit and skinny tie, with his hair styled. Gone are the destroyed jeans, black T-shirts, and backward caps.
Liam’s warm arm wraps around my shoulder as he leans in to place a kiss on my temple. It’s for show more than anything.
Poor Jimmy Hill’s daughter, who can’t catch a fucking break from death and destruction. Isn’t she so lucky to be doted on by the perfect, charming quarterback?
I can’t read the look in King’s eyes when he cuts them to Liam by my side, but I don’t miss the shadows that flicker in their depths.
The girl by his side, Hayley, dressed in a black dress with white bows on the shoulder straps, leans in to whisper in King’s ear. It’s intimate, the way her lips curl back into a seductive smile despite the white coffin a few yards in front.
Something ugly rears its head inside me. I’m never possessive around Liam, but I don’t like how this girl looks at King.
Not one bit.
I’m torn from my thoughts when Liam squeezes my thigh. He’s staring straight ahead at the coffin, his fingers digging into my thigh as if he wants to hurt me.
I like pain.
It keeps the demons at bay.
As I shift in my seat to look behind me, my eyes collide with Mom’s. She’s emotionless. I want to fucking shake her, if only to crack her mask enough for a single tear to spill out. I know there are emotions buried deep inside her. Somewhere.
I face forward again, listening to Cassie’s soft crying. Madison should be here too, but she’s recuperating at home. It’s been so quiet without her this week, and I’ve missed the ruffle of her pink puffer jacket and the fruity scent of her strawberry bubblegum.
Reaching out, I grab Cassie’s hand and squeeze gently. She responds by interlacing our fingers. We both know it could be us next. The days have seemed grayer, and the wind has felt colder ever since Madison was attacked at school. The icy breeze slithers beneath my clothes like a whisper, but my winter coat remains at the back of my closet. I welcome the icy bite that has my teeth chattering every time I walk outside. Or as I pull my jacket closer to my body for a reprieve but get none.
* * *
The wake afterward is muted in both sound and color. The hum of conversation lulls my senses. It’s late afternoon, and the sun has almost settled beyond the trees outside the tall windows. It’s windy, but the rain has stopped for now. We’re seated at one of the circular tables in the hall. Jessica’s house is still a crime scene, so the wake is held at the local country club owned by Jessica’s father. Luxury, rose-gold curtains frame the large windows that overlook a lake and the forest beyond. Waiters and waitresses, dressed in black and white, bring out the food while a projector screen at one end of the room plays a series of photographs of Jessica on repeat.
I’m seated with Liam to my left and Hazel to my right. Cassie sits on Liam’s other side and, much to her chagrin, the seating plan put her between him and Marcus.
Hazel is quiet. Out of everyone at this table, she was the closest to Jessica. Amanda, Chris’s on-and-off girlfriend, reaches out to squeeze her hand. “It’s not the same without her.”
Hazel nods, her bottom lip trembling. “I miss her.”
Sitting across from us, Sienna and Miles watch her with soft, sad smiles.
I feel out of place amongst Jessica’s friends. Sure, I fuck the quarterback, but I wasn’t anything more than a hindrance to Jessica.
As if Liam can sense my thoughts, he slides his hand beneath my hair to massage my neck.
I seek out King in the room. He sits with his parents at a table near the windows. Hayley is there with her family too, and so is their friend Ava.
“I’m scared,” Sienna admits, and Miles wraps his arm around her. She’s beautiful tonight, with her curled, auburn hair and her lips painted a dusty rose color.
“We all are,” Amanda replies before sharing a look with Chris.
