Page 111 of Sinister Legacy
I know I’m sick. Even my therapist told me as much before Allen stopped sending me. I’m a spreading disease, infecting everyone I care about.
After packing a backpack, I throw on my denim jacket and toe on my Chucks. It’s too fucking cold outside for what I have on, and my toes are soon frozen as I head down the snowy sidewalk. I don’t care if I freeze to death at this point. At least, I’d finally get some mercy from my own fucked up mind. Faulty people like me shouldn’t be alive.
As I walk down the sidewalk toward town with no direction in mind, a black Hummer slows to a halt beside me. The passenger window slides down, and Miles flashes a smile. Chris is driving, one hand hanging over the steering wheel. He doesn’t look at me, though. Simply stares straight ahead.
“Where are you heading?” Miles asks, his blond hair hidden beneath a red, backward cap.
I shrug, coming to a slow stop. “Nowhere.”
“Jump in the back. It’s warmer in the car than it is out there. We’ll drop you off somewhere.”
Uncertainty makes me hesitate. I’m not friends with Miles and Chris. We know each other through Liam, sure, but friends? No.
“We’ll drive you to Madison’s.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I scuff the crunchy snow with my shoe. I suppose I could always ask Madison if I can stay for a night or two. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. “Sure, okay.”
“Cool,” he replies, rolling his window back up.
I open the passenger door, toss my backpack inside, and slide in. The heat is on, which is a welcome change from the freezing temperatures outside.
“Psychosocial” by Slipknot blasts through the speakers, and Miles moves his head in time to the beat. Chris still says nothing, but his eyes land on me in the rearview mirror. His brown hair is kept short at the sides but longer on the top, and his eyes are dark brown with specks of hazel.
“Where’s Sienna?” I ask Miles over the top of the music.
“Not here,” he replies with a smirk, turning the music up even louder.
I look out the window and stiffen when I realize we’re driving in the wrong direction. Madison doesn’t live this way. “You’re going the wrong way,” I call out, but my voice gets lost in the music.
Chris takes a right turn, his eyes sliding to mine in the rearview mirror. The hazel specs in his eyes are nowhere in sight now. His eyes are dark, almost black in the fading light.
We turn down a dirt track, and I begin to panic. Something is very wrong. I try the handle, but it’s locked.
Chris lowers the volume, spinning the wheel. There’s a sadistic drawl to his voice when he says, “You can’t unlock the door from the back.”
My eyes fly up to the rearview mirror, and my heart stalls in my chest for a brief moment while I stare at him. Lashing out at the door, I push and shove and pull, but it stays locked.
The boys laugh and bump fists at my futile attempts.
Outside the car, the trees grow denser, and the weeds on the dirt road grow thicker. Chris pulls over at a clearing and cuts the engine.
Without hesitation, I push open the door and tumble out of the car with my heart in my throat. I sprint back down the dirt road, but I don’t get far before Miles’s muscular arms band around my waist. With a dark chuckle, he carries me back to where Chris leans against his Hummer with a cigarette between his lips.
I’m dumped unceremoniously on the cold ground. Scuttling back on my ass, I blink up at Chris, who smokes in silence, his black jacket rustling in the quiet.
The snowy ground is icy cold beneath my palms as my eyes dart around the clearing. My shaky breaths puff out in a big cloud in front of me, and my nose and ears burn from the sharp bite of cold in the air. I should at least have worn my scarf. “Why did you bring me here?”
Miles checks his phone, while Chris crushes the cigarette beneath his sneaker. “You’re gonna tell us where Liam is, beautiful.”
My eyes widen. “What? I don’t know where he is.”
Stalking up to me, Chris grabs my chin so hard that I whimper. His fingers will leave marks on my skin. I can feel it. “You know exactly where he is, and it’s time to fucking talk.”
“You can’t make me,” I hiss, wrenching free of his grip. “I don’t know anything.”
“No?” His chuckle is cold and cruel. “You’re so damn innocent, right? Fucking King behind Liam’s back. We watched the videos. All of them.”
Miles releases a loud laugh. “Jerked off to them, too.”
