Page 153 of Sinister Legacy
I know we live in an imperfect world where all sides have two stories. They will always know him by his heinous crimes. Never the sides of him that I saw.
“Let me start by saying sorry to the families. I know nothing I say tonight will ever remove their pain, and I don’t expect forgiveness. Nor do I ask for it. My actions caused unimaginable suffering, but they also ruined my own family. And for that, I’m endlessly sorry.”
His words are meant for me. His eyes drill into mine, glassy with tears as if he wants to imprint his final words on this planet into my heart.
“To my sweet, beautiful daughter, who I lost because of my actions, I am sorry. I’m sorry you’ve had to live with my tainted surname. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, but I need you to know…” He strains his neck as far as his strapped limbs will allow him. “Ineedyou to know that you’re not me. Whatever the world may throw at you, whatever darkness you encounter, you’re not me. Do you hear me, sweetheart? Don’t let the burden of my legacy break you down. I don’t want you to feel guiltyaboutanything.You can always talk to me. Even when I’m no longer here. You hear me? Because I get it. Igetit!” His intense eyes send shivers down my back. He’s talking about my darkness, the monster that’s growing stronger inside me. The urges threatening to rule me. “I get it, okay? But you’re strong. You’re my little girl, and I will always love you. Always root for you. But today, I have to pay for my actions. You must promise me you will be strong. Promise me.”
I nod softly through my cascading tears, and he sighs contentedly as if he’s reassured.
“Good. And remember that I love you. I willalwayslove you.”
With that, he nods to the warden, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, shaking my head almost violently. “No, Dad…”
Seconds tick by as he stares up at the ceiling while I fight desperately not to break down. King was wrong all along. I’m not the biggest apex predator. The criminal justice system is.
My father inhales a ragged breath. I jump off my seat, watching him roll his head, his eyes finding mine.
And then he simply stops.
His eyes flutter shut, and that’s it.
The poison is slowly killing him, immobilizing every muscle in his body, fooling us into believing he has simply fallen asleep.
I stand with my hands pressed to the glass as the minutes tick by, praying for a miracle that won’t come.
The warden eventually walks back in, pressing his fingers to his wrist before announcing his death. The curtains slide closed, and I wait.
I wait for some sense of justice to be felt.
Can they feel it on the other end? Is their anger, hurt, and thirst for revenge quenched? Is this it? Are they happy a supposed chapter has been closed by another death?
I’m fatherless.
And motherless.
An orphan.
Rubbing my fingers on the window as my breath steams up the surface, I close my eyes and press my temple to the glass. I don’t want to go back out, broken and ruined, only to be photographed by cold, soulless reporters and paparazzi.
The last couple of months have been an endless nightmare, with so many people dead. And now it’s all over.
I dreaded this day for so long. I feared losing my only connection to the happy memories of my past. The only light of my childhood, no matter how tainted it was. Now I have to maneuver this maze alone. To come to terms with the decisions I made along the way. Now I need to learn to wrangle the monster inside me, or it’ll be me strapped to that gurney one day. I have to adapt, blend in, outsmart. Stay one step ahead.
The door creaks open to reveal King in all his handsome glory. He watches me carefully as if he’s unsure if his presence is welcome or not. “They let me come see you.”
“He’s dead,” I whisper, steaming up the glass with my shaky breath. “He’s really dead.”
Striding up to me, King lifts me by my hips and guides my thighs around his trim waist. He holds me to him like he’s worried I might break. He’s so strong and solid and everything I need at this moment. He’s my hero now. The only person who knows what I need, who’s attuned to me.
“You should have let me be here,” he whispers into my hair as he rocks us. “I hated being so far away when I knew you were hurting.”
“He looked at me the entire time.”
“Shh, don’t cry. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”
“When we graduate,” I whisper, breathing in his smell at the crook of his neck, “I want to move somewhere. Change my name.”
“Start over,” he finishes for me. “How do you feel about being a Knight?”
