Page 39 of Sinister Legacy
Stepping closer and tilting her head to the side, she studies me with a small smile. “The day I was attacked. Where were you?”
“What? I was on the grass, watching the football practice. You know that. We talked.”
Madison hums, lowering her voice as Hazel nears. “Don’t you think it’s an interesting coincidence that I told you I knew about your little secret with Liam and then ended up stabbed in the bathroom while yousupposedly,”she makes air quotes, “stayed outside to watch the football practice?”
“Hi, Cassie. Where’s Keira?” Hazel asks as she joins us, out of breath and smiling big.
Shaken up, I look between them both before getting myself together and addressing Madison. “Fuck you! I didn’t hurt anyone.”
Smirking, she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “If you say so.”
With a disgusted snort, I enter the car, put it in drive, and step on the gas.
Fucking bitch.
Who the hell does she think she is? Accusing me of murdering people?
Hot water runs over my tender skin, soothing my sore muscles. I tip my head back and open my mouth to catch the shower water. Between my stepfather’s brutal fucking and King keeping me up all night, I’m aching everywhere.
I take my time as I wash my hair with my favorite apple shampoo. The others have left, and blissful silence has settled over the locker room. I shouldn’t stay here this late, but my mom is still away, and I can’t possibly face the monster at home two days in a row. I’m supposed to meet Liam, but I’m not in a rush to spend an entire evening with him.
The logical thing would be to dump him, but something stops me. He’s the closest thing to normal that I have in my abnormal world. I don’t want to lose that. What I have with King belongs to the night. That side of me, like a vampire, can’t exist in the daylight. There’s no room for my inner whore to externalize my emotional pain while the sun is up.
I need facades to help me survive.
The good girl.
The serial killer’s broken daughter.
The perfect girlfriend.
The whore who comes out to play after sunset.
They all make up a part of me, like an individual piece of the tapestry. Without one, I’m an unfinished patchwork quilt.
As the door to the locker room creaks open, I stiffen and brush the water from my eyes. “Hello?”
Nothing else happens. No monsters dart out from the shadows to devour me whole. I turn the shower off and ease open the cubicle door. It’s eerily silent without the chatter of girls and showers running.
Squeezing the excess water out of my hair, I walk up to the bench but stop short.
My things are gone.
“What the hell?” I turn in a circle, scanning the room.
They’re gone. The towel is nowhere to be seen, and neither are my clothes.
My wet feet move across the floor as I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm. What the hell am I going to do? My clothes are gone. The school is empty.
I check each locker, causing them to slam shut while I open the next in line and repeat the process. They’re all empty.
Every single one.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, pausing as I slowly turn around. There, written in red on the closed changing room door, are the words:
“Guess who’s next, Keira?”
My hand flies up to my mouth, and I stumble back against the lockers. Releasing a sob, I squeeze my eyes shut, but they fly open just as fast. What if the killer is still around? He was in here while I showered. He was feet away from me…
